Chapter 34

There was a rational part of Tyrion's mind that knew Grey Worm was no longer in the dungeons, but as he searched the area he couldn't help but see him in every shadow. It wasn't often he relived that part of the Wolfswood, but when he did the hatred burning in his former friends eyes hurt as much as the spear thrust that had carved him open.

Tyrion forced himself to continue searching the dungeon. Sansa had been reluctant enough to let him leave their chambers when the bells rang and if she saw the slightest sign something was bothering him she would worry more than she already did.

In truth there wasn't much to search. For a castle of this size the dungeons were small; containing only a few cells set out side by side in the standard fashion. Heavy metal gates covered each cell and the only sources of light were the torches that burned during the day in the short corridor.

"Why are the Winterfell dungeons so small?" he asked, pushing his hand against the heavy gate that hung open on Grey Worm's cell

Sansa turned to him, her blue eyes drowning in worry "We had a couple of tower cells too, but they were destroyed during the Long Night"

"There's only one way in and out?"

"The stairs we just came down" she said, eyeing the empty chains lying on the floor.

His stomach twisted at her words. There were two guards on duty last night and neither had seen or heard anything suspicious. It was only when one of the guards had gone down to light the torches at dawn Grey Worm's disappearance was noticed. The alarm had been raised and Tyrion's blissful sleep in Sansa's arms was cut short.

"We should speak to the guards again"

Tyrion jumped as Arya's voice suddenly appeared behind him on soundless feet.

"They've told us what they know" said Tyrion

"Grey Worm couldn't have escaped without help"

Sansa moved out of the cell to join them "You mean there's a traitor"

Arya nodded sharply "The only way out is past the guards and no-one heard or saw anything. Grey Worm had help - the locks weren't picked on his chains or cell door either"

"Who would help him? The unsullied are deeply disliked in the North" said Tyrion

"I don't know" said Arya "but if there are traitors in the castle we need to find them"

"Um, Tyrion I think you should see this" called Cayn, his voice drifting through the dungeon

Wordlesssly they followed the voice to find the young man stood opposite a piece of wall between the stair case and the first cell. Tyrion didn't understand what they were looking at - it was a flat piece of wall positioned awkwardly between the steps and the cells. Someone might use it to hide in the shadows but they'd soon be discovered.

"What exactly am I looking at?" said Tyrion, joining his friend

Cayn nodded to Lyon. The golden wolf appeared to be growling at the wall, one paw scratching at it.

"What's he doing?" asked Sansa, looking over their shoulders

"I don't know" said Cayn "I was checking the other cells when I heard him scratching at the wall"

"Lyon, it's only a wall" called Tyrion

The wolf turned to him with sharp green eyes, barking in what Tyrion could only assume was disagreement. It was strange behaviour – even for Lyon. They'd brought the little wolf with them in the hopes he might get Grey Worm's scent and track him down but after getting him to sniff around the cell he'd merely wandered around.

"Did you find anything Cayn?" asked Tyrion

"No, everything's exactly as it's supposed to be" he said

Tyrion nodded, moving past his friend to join Lyon who was still scratching at the wall.

"There's nothing there" said Sansa

"The guards must have been in on it" said Arya "where are they?"

"Brice is acting captain with Alec gone" said Cayn "he's confined them to barracks for now"

"What do we know about the guards?" asked Sansa

"They're loyal your Grace, I don't think they'd help the enemy"

The conversation carried on but Tyrion focused on the wall before him. Lyon seemed oddly fixated on it and Tyrion was inclined to trust him – the direwolf had an uncanny sense for things. Tyrion crouched down, his ankle protesting the movement somewhat until he was facing the stones Lyon had scratched at. There was nothing unusual about them. They were just as age worn as the rest of the dungeons and seemingly fixed into place.

"Lyon, I do hope you're not playing a trick on me" he said, pushing his hands against the stone

The direwolf whined, lifting his nose as though offended.

Tyrion ran his hands over the stones, pressing carefully along each crack. It was only when he got to the very bottom stone that something budged. He pushed again, moving the stone back several inches until it stopped. Despite the circumstances a thrill of excitement went through him and he eagerly tried the neighbouring stones. The first he tried didn't move, but the other side did.

"Tyrion?"

He ignored Sansa as the second stone moved back several inches before stopping. They were the only two that would move, but it was hardly an escape route. Lying flat on the floor Tyrion shoved his hand into the gap. The floor was made up of large stones which disappeared under the wall, but as Tyrion's hand disappeared into a gap he realised what this was.

"Clever" he muttered, his hand closing around the mechanism buried in the side of the next stone.

He shuffled off the stone directly in front of the gap he made and reached around with his arm to reach the mechanism. Tyrion just about reached it, twisting the lever until the stone he'd just been lying on swung downwards into a passage below.

Arya swore as Tyrion looked back to see their faces.

"Did you know there was a secret passage down here?" he asked

"No" said Sansa, the colour draining from her face

"There are secret passages in Winterfell" said Arya "but I've never known of one in the dungeons"

"Good work Lyon" said Tyrion, reaching across to ruffle his friend's soft fur

"If you didn't know about it how would anyone else?" asked Cayn

Tyrion's heartbeat picked up pace as he looked into the dark passage below. Grey Worm must have escaped this way - he could be lurking in the shadows to kill him. Death had hung over Tyrion all his life and he'd done everything to avoid facing it.

A blend of anger and fear swirled in his chest - he was done hiding.

The voices of Arya and Sansa arguing over the next course of action registered distantly in his mind, but Tyrion was focused only on the newly discovered passage before him.

Manoeuvring upright Tyrion dangled his feet over the edge, casting a glance at his family before dropping into the darkness below.

"Tyrion!"

Sansa's panicked shout reached him as he dropped through the air. The drop wasn't far - no more than six feet - nonetheless his ankle groaned at the impact. Lyon had followed him and both now stood in the passage that continued for several feet beneath the wall before ending. The stone which had made up the floor was connected to hinges controlled by the lever he'd just pulled. There was likely a pulling system hidden in the wall somewhere, but Tyrion's mind was firmly on the path before him and what waited in the darkness.

He wouldn't hide anymore; if Grey Worm wanted to kill him then he'd be on his feet when death came.

He was dimly aware of Sansa calling him back, but for once his rational mind had given way to something more primitive - some baser instinct urging him to action. The passage only went several feet further forwards, but a crumbling archway stood in the back left corner and Tyrion could see the beginning of steps leading down.

The darkness engulfed Tyrion as he reached the arch. He'd made it down the second step when a hand on his shoulder jerked him to a stop.

"Forget something?"

Arya stood behind him; a torch burning in her hand. Her grey eyes looked at him curiously but she said nothing as she handed him the torch.

Scrambling sounded further back indicating Sansa and Cayn were joining them, but Tyrion had already turned back to the steps.

'You are traitor and you will die as one'

Grey Worm's words whispered through his mind. Tyrion had been shamed and beaten when the unsullied captain went to kill him; he didn't want to die like that – cowering on the ground.

The torch illuminated the ancient passage as he followed Lyon down the short flight of steps and out into a much wider space. Glancing around the area Tyrion realised the Winterfell dungeon wasn't so small after all.

Somehow the passage had brought them to an apparently forgotten part of the Winterfell dungeons; not dissimilar to the black cells beneath the Red Keep. The area was completely dark save the torch in Tyrion's hand, but it illuminated a corridor with four cells on either side. Unlike the ones upstairs, these were little more than cupboards covered by thick iron grilles. No dungeon was pleasant, but this hidden place had surely played witness to many horrors in Winterfell's history.

"Never thought this was down here" said Cayn, his sword in his hand as he glanced around the area

"We didn't know this was here - how could Grey Worm?" said Arya

Soft footsteps drew his attention and Tyrion moved the torch to illuminate Sansa's face as she stood beside him. The Queen was doing her best to hide it, but her face had lost all colour – her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Tyrion's heart twisted at the sight. He'd come down here to face his own monsters, but Sansa had hers too. Winterfell may be her home but it had once been her prison. Did she see Ramsay's face in every shadow as he saw his tormentors?

The guilt for scaring Sansa quickly flushed the recklessness from his system. What was he thinking? Charging down here alone – he didn't even have his sword. Armed or not Grey Worm would easily kill him.

Tyrion reached out, offering his hand to Sansa.

The Queen quickly accepted, her fingers shaking as he closed his hand around hers.

"I'm sorry" he said quietly, squeezing her hand

Sansa gave him a small smile, tightening her grip "This must be how Grey Worm escaped"

"How do we know he's not still here?" asked Cayn

Tyrion shook his head "Lyon would have noticed if someone was here"

"True" said Cayn, his face relaxing somewhat "He did bite two of his fingers off"

"There must be another way out" said Arya, turning needle in her hand "how in the seven hells did anyone know about this?"

"When we recapture Grey Worm we'll ask him before he loses his head" said Sansa "let's find the exit"

Sansa never ceased to amaze Tyrion. Despite her unease at entering an unknown part of the castle and the worry he'd caused her, the Queen let none of it distract from their objective. Regal, graceful and highly intelligent – Sansa was truly a Queen.

They proceeded at a slower pace with Tyrion holding the torch in one hand and Sansa clutching his other. Arya had taken up position just in front of them with Cayn dropping behind to guard their backs. The row of prisons wasn't long and if Tyrion had to guess he'd say it had been abandoned for decades if not centuries. The single torch only illuminated so much but Tyrion recognised several sets of old fashioned restraints and torture implements that contrasted sharply with the more modern dungeons they'd just come from.

Fortunately the exit was easier to find than the entrance. After the row of cells the passage curved to the left and an already open door where Lyon stood with his tail wagging. While the dungeon itself appeared to have been untouched for many years the door hadn't fared so well – the lock hung off the door as if it had been forced. As Tyrion brought the torch closer he realised it hadn't been that difficult; lack of upkeep had left the wooden door cracked and rotting.

Sansa nodded to her sister and Arya followed Lyon through the open door and onto a stair case. It was unnaturally narrow as they wound their way upwards emerging into a long passage with a low ceiling.

There was no natural light coming into the passage, leading Tyrion to believe they were still underground. Varys had once shown him some of the secret passages in the Red Keep and they had a similar build to this – long and narrow passages that ran parallel to a normal corridor.

"It's narrow up here, single file" ordered Arya, holding needle ahead of her

Sansa's hand tensed around his at the prospect of letting go, sending a jolt of guilt through his heart. Since coming to Winterfell Tyrion had noticed that Sansa rarely strayed from the same few places. He'd seen first hand how nervous she was when he took her into the village for the surprise dinner. No matter how she tried to hide it behind a stoic mask Tyrion knew there was a pool of vulnerability bubbling just below the surface. It made Sansa's courage in following her reckless husband all the more impressive. Nevertheless it was too late to turn back - all Tyrion could do now was try to ease his wife's fears.

The Queen was forced to crouch because of the low ceiling and Tyrion took the opportunity to kiss her cheek, gently slipping his hand out of hers.

"I knew I'd eventually drag you down to my level" he said, moving just in front of her with the torch outstretched

Sansa rolled her eyes "You couldn't resist"

"It's not often I get to tell tall people jokes"

"Enjoy it while it lasts"

Tyrion grinned at her "I intend to. Watch you don't hit your head my dear - it's rather precious to me"

The flicker of the torch was just enough to illuminate the small smile on Sansa's face.

"Ow" complained Cayn rubbing his head as he crouched down behind Sansa "What about my precious head?"

"Come on" urged Arya "there's fresh air further up"

With Arya in the lead and Tyrion holding the torch behind her they made their way down the passage. While the passage was perfectly sized for Tyrion he couldn't imagine many people making use of it - the awkward access and cramped space was likely the reason it had been seemingly forgotten.

They were about half way along when Tyrion felt the first trickle of fresh air brush past him. As fascinating as he was finding this exploration he could almost feel Sansa's nerves. The Queen made no complaint though her hand hadn't left his back since they started moving forwards. As interesting as the long forgotten passages were the knowledge that Grey Worm had likely used them to escape sobered his enthusiasm.

At some point in time the passage must have opened into a staircase or exit of some kind, but as they reached the end all that met them was a pile of rubble.

"I can imagine a tower once stood here" said Tyrion, passing the torch over the broken stone

Sansa leaned over his shoulder "Winterfell has stood for eight thousand years - there could have been anything here"

Arya nodded "It's been built up a lot over that time. Father always said the castle had secret passages that had been long forgotten. It was a game when we were children, to try and find them"

"I never played that game" whispered Sansa, a hint of longing in her voice

"I did" said Arya, her voice taking a similar tone "Bran and I found one in the crypts once"

The grief of the Stark girls fell over the passage like winter itself; chilling the air so much Tyrion feared the torch may go out. Finding a secret like this in their family home had somehow brought them back to a time when this would have been a game, rather than tracking a dangerous prisoner.

"Um, not that my back is aching or anything, but how do we get out?" called Cayn, shuffling awkwardly in the passage behind them

The question snapped Sansa and Arya from the melancholy that had taken hold of them, returning their focus to the current problem.

"Here" said Arya, taking the torch from Tyrion as she scrambled up the rubble.

They were surely close to some kind of exit - the air was much cooler here than it had been at the start of the passage. Most of the passage was blocked by broken stones and debris, but there was a narrow gap that Arya slipped through – as if someone had already been there. Lyon had beaten them to it and was already sat atop a chunk of stone, his green eyes locked onto a grille set in the wall.

"Lyon's found something" he called, directing Arya to where the wolf was looking

"This must be how Grey Worm escaped" breathed Sansa, resting her chin on his shoulder

"He must have had help" said Tyrion "He was in chains, behind a locked door and somehow found a passage no-one else knew about"

"The question is who" said Sansa "who would have such knowledge of Winterfell?"

"I found it" called Arya, her face grim in the torchlight "I hope you're up for a climb big sister"

It wasn't so much of a climb as it was a crawl.

Faced with the prospect of clambering through a tiny, filthy space Tyrion had offered to take Sansa back the way they'd came. As curious as he was to see this through he was well aware his wife might be at her limit.

No-one could ever say Sansa wasn't a true Northerner. The Queen's nose had wrinkled in disgust as Cayn swung the iron grille open, exposing a tunnel little more than a crawl space - but she'd refused to back down.

It was only when they'd crawled half way along the tunnel, and sweat was trickling down his back that Tyrion realised two things. The first was his curiosity would be the end of him, and the second that he should have been behind and not in front of Sansa as they crawled.

"Cayn, why are you behind my wife?" he called

"Um, because I went last"

"You expect me to believe it's a coincidence you went last with the Queen in such an undignified position?"

"Did you want to go last?" he called back

"How could I possibly go last? I'd have never reached this tunnel without help - it was nearly six foot up in the wall"

"I'm confused" admitted Cayn

Arya's snorting laugh echoed back to them from the front of the procession "Tyrion's just realised you've got one of his favourite views"

"I'm sure Cayn knows better than to look up the Queen's skirts" said Sansa, a hint of threat in her tone

"Of course your Grace" stammered Cayn, finally catching on to their meaning "I can't see anything – I swear"

"Best keep it that way" said Tyrion "or Lyon will be having a large dinner"

The wolf barked further up the tunnel; as if he'd heard the word dinner and taken it as a promise.

Tyrion's body protested every movement as he dragged himself forwards "Forgive me wife, I should have gone behind to defend your honour"

He couldn't see Sansa's face but he could almost picture the smile on her delicate features "Don't worry love I'm rather enjoying my view"

"You like?" he teased

"You're quite alluring from this angle"

"Gods, I think I'm going to be sick" grumbled Arya "Just remember that if I vomit you have to crawl through it"

Tyrion would gladly crawl through Arya's vomit if his teasing had managed to ease Sansa's nerves. The Queen was a formidable woman, but he knew this was well out of her comfort zone. However the years had changed her, Sansa would always be a lady at heart.

He couldn't decide whether the tunnel was long or they were just making slow progress – either way he was immensely grateful when the first strands of daylight appeared ahead of them.

"What can you see?" called Sansa as their line came to a stop. Arya crawled up beside Lyon to examine whatever lay ahead of them.

"There's a grille above us, but it's covered in snow and it's stuck" she replied

He pulled himself forwards a little more to see what Arya was looking at. It appeared the crawl space ended in a short incline with a grille of tightly crossed bars covering the exit. Flickers of light could be seen through the gaps, but snow was obscuring most of it.

"Look for a lever of some kind" said Tyrion "it's possible there's a release switch somewhere"

A few minutes and several swear words later Arya appeared to have found what they were looking for. A stone in the side of the tunnel proved to be their saviour. Much like the ones Tyrion had found in the dungeon, the stone could be pushed back several inches to reveal a lever embedded in the adjacent stone.

"Got it" she said, lying flat beneath the grille as she reached for the lever. With no room to join her, Tyrion could only wait with Sansa and Cayn behind him to see if it worked.

In hindsight it should have occurred to one of them that the grille would open inwards. As Arya freed the mechanism the grille swung downwards, unleashing a torrent of snow on Arya and Lyon.

"Are you alright?" called Sansa, safely tucked behind him as some of the snow splattered against his face and buried Arya

The younger Stark drew in a deep breath, wiping the snow off her face "There better be someone to kill on the other side of this"

"Lyon!" called Tyrion, unable to see his little friend beneath the heap of snow

A sad bark followed by scrabbling paws echoed through the tunnel as the direwolf squeezed past Arya to Tyrion. The direwolf's golden fur was damp, his ears drooping.

"Are you ok?" asked Tyrion

Lyon whined, nuzzling his face with his damp nose.

"You've worked so hard today" said Tyrion, reaching out to awkwardly stroke his friend in the cramped space "I'll get you a nice treat later, ok?"

His tail wagged as he licked Tyrion's face.

"I appreciate your concern big brother" said Arya, shaking out her hair

"I'll get you a treat too"

"Did it work?" called Cayn

"Yes" said Arya, crawling forwards to the now open grille "Let's get out of here"

As Tyrion crawled up the incline, with the snow seeping through his breeches he thought it might be time for a nap. It was only mid-morning but the unexpected exertion had left his ankle throbbing and the rest of him aching.

Arya had lifted Lyon out before following herself, leaving Tyrion to clamber out after them. His mouth went dry as he realised the grille was located just outside the outer castle walls. This had been a direct route out of the dungeons for Grey Worm - but how could he have known about it?

Tyrion squinted in the morning sun as he studied where they'd emerged. The grille was positioned tight to the east wall of Winterfell, with the trees of the Wolfswood covering the landscape in the distance.

It was as Tyrion reached down to help Sansa out of the passage that Brice's booming voice reached him "Bloody hell Lannister, what've ya been doing?"

As Sansa straightened up beside him, he turned to see Brice, Brienne and several guards heading back towards the castle - a man hanging limply between two guards.

"What happened?" demanded Arya, needle already in her hand as she stalked towards them

Tyrion's stomach churned at the sight of the guards, but he turned to Sansa first. The Queen's gown was ripped and filthy - covered in grime, and damp from the snow. Her red hair had fared no better with bits of debris and dirt caught in it. If Tyrion hadn't felt guilty before, he did now.

"Are you alright?" he asked, taking her hand in his and rubbing at the coldness that met him

Sansa's face was weary as she nodded "I'm fine"

Cayn staggered out a moment later looking just as bedraggled as the rest of them "Alec chose a fine time to leave"

"And you thought you would miss all the excitement by staying here" said Tyrion

Sansa slipped her hand from between his, leaving a strange emptiness behind. He glanced up at his wife, searching for her eyes.

"Let's see what they found" she said, offering him a half-smile

It was as they approached the group Tyrion noticed the man hanging between the guards wore a Winterfell uniform.

Arya turned to them, her mouth set in a hard line "It's not good news"

"Your Grace" greeted Brice inclining his head. The other guards followed suit and Tyrion didn't miss the curious glances at the Queen's appearance.

"What happened?" she asked, nodding towards the unconscious guard

Brice shifted on the spot, his face grim "I set men all over the castle looking for Grey Worm and took some outside to search the surrounding area - Ser Brienne joined us"

The lady knight nodded "I was checking the tree line when I heard screaming"

"A group of us rushed over and we found the lad clutching his head and shouting all over the place" continued Brice

Tyrion stepped around Sansa, examining the guard more closely. He knew all of the guards, and Darron was easy to recognise by his red hair hanging in a scruffy bun. Darron was only young - hardly a man grown.

"Was he attacked?" asked Tyrion

Brice and Brienne exchanged glances, and something twisted in Tyrion's stomach.

"We thought that, but the lad's not got a mark on him. He was ranting and raving…and he had these"

Reluctantly Brice withdrew a set of keys from his pocket, handing them to Sansa.

"He freed Grey Worm" said the Queen, her voice lacking emotion

Tyrion shook his head, locking eyes with Brice "That can't be right. Darron's a good lad - why would he help Grey Worm?"

The older man looked pained as he answered "I don't know, but he confessed"

Sansa's eyes narrowed "What did he say?"

"He was talking nonsense, but he kept saying 'why did I do it?' and 'I freed him' - he was crying and shaking. Kept complaining about his head before he passed out"

"I don't think Darron would do something like this" said Cayn "How would he know about the hidden passage?"

Tyrion watched the indecision flickering in Sansa's eyes. Everything pointed to Darron being guilty - he had the keys and several people had heard him confess despite how out of sorts he'd seemed. It was more than enough to sentence the man for treason and execute him. Lyon was sniffing at Darron, his ears back as though confused.

He reached out tugging at Sansa's sleeve "I don't believe Darron would betray you - it's oddly out of character. Cayn is right too; how would he know of the passages?"

Sansa was silent, absorbing all the information they had and coming to a decision. It was situations like this when Sansa's icy detachment was useful. Cersei and Daenerys as well as many lords would have already judged the man guilty, but Sansa was logical enough to see the gaps in their knowledge.

"Take him to Wolkan" she decided "have him checked over and keep him under guard. When he's awake we will find out the truth"

Tyrion relaxed slightly at Sansa's decision. He wasn't sure why, but something about this situation seemed wrong - like they were missing a piece of the puzzle.

"What about Grey Worm?" asked Arya, crossing her arms

"No sign of him" said Brice "but seeing as we found Darron out here…"

"Grey Worm's likely gone" finished Tyrion

"Send out as many guards as we can spare" said Sansa, her hand curling into a fist beside him "The priority is finding Grey Worm"

"Aye, your Grace" said Brice

Brienne was looking between them and the castle "Where did you all come from?"

"It's a long story" said Sansa, grimacing as she looked at her torn gown "Suffice to say we found where they got out of the castle"

"Don't suppose Bran's offered any insight?" asked Arya

"He looked half asleep when I went to him this morning" said Brienne "I asked if we could join the search and he agreed, but said nothing else"

"Typical" said Arya, turning on her heel and stalking back towards the castle

"Pod and Ser Davos have been helping the guards search inside the castle" said Brienne

"Thank you" said Sansa "all of your help is appreciated"

As the group turned back towards Winterfell, Tyrion's gaze turned to the vast expanse of the North that surrounded them. Grey Worm was no longer in the castle – of that he was certain.

A flicker of fear stirred within Tyrion, replacing the recklessness that had driven him to confront his enemy earlier on.

Robin, Gawan, Grey Worm – wherever he went someone always wanted him dead. Now all three of his enemies were out there; free to hurt him and those he loved.


Five minutes - that was all Sansa needed.

The warmth of the bath seeped through Sansa, chasing the chill from her bones and cleansing the filth from her body.

The Queen leaned back against the tub, wishing the bath could so easily relax her mind.

She'd been sound asleep with Tyrion when the bells rang this morning, followed quickly by Cayn banging on their chamber door. Of all the things she'd feared it might be, Sansa had never considered Grey Worm had escaped. The unsullied captain had been their prisoner for two months - in that time he had rarely spoken or moved. Whatever peace Sansa had been enjoying had ended with the bells, plunging her into a nightmare where the man who'd come so close to killing Tyrion was loose in the castle.

Her first reaction had been to confine Tyrion to their chambers with guards until Grey Worm was caught, but her husband had quickly ended that idea.

"There's not a chance in hell I'm hiding in here" he'd said, hurrying to get dressed along with her

"You're his target"

"I'm not afraid of him"

"Tyrion please, just for a little while - until I find out what happened" she'd pleaded "let me protect you"

"I'm the lord of Winterfell, aren't I?" he'd said, gazing up at her "You expect me to hide while there's an escaped prisoner in the castle?"

In the end she'd relented. It was fear driving her decisions rather than rational thought, and Tyrion did have a point - for the lord of Winterfell to hide would be frowned upon by the Northerners. For years Sansa had let fear make her decisions, manifesting in her controlling behaviours - she'd resolved to move past that and that meant doing things differently.

Sansa sank deeper into the bath, bringing her hands up to wash the grime from her hair. Never had she expected to find a secret tunnel in the dungeon, let alone explore it. As soon as she realised Tyrion had gone into the passage she hadn't thought twice about following him. While Sansa suspected there were many contributing factors that had led to her husband's rash decision she knew the main one straightaway. It was the same urge that had eaten away at him during the long night; a desire to prove himself.

Even all those months ago she'd seen his drinking and complaints in the crypts for what it was. Since then she'd become far more familiar with her husband's insecurities.

Sansa's chin dipped to her chest, her shoulders slumping. She knew how insecure Tyrion could be - ordering him to stay in their chambers had likely hurt his pride.

The Queen sighed; she'd spent most of last night trying to convince Tyrion how wonderful he was - only to damage his confidence in her fear this morning. He'd given Sansa free reign over him last night and she'd taken her time to explore him; hoping to soothe some of the self-hatred that always lurked in his eyes when he was undressed. It had taken a while for him to relax and he'd seemed rather embarrassed when she turned her attentions to his private area, but in the end a look of bliss had spread over his face that warmed Sansa from head to toes. She'd fell asleep with her head on his chest and his arms around her. How could such contentment turn into a nightmare so quickly?

It was with great reluctance Sansa left the comforting warmth of the bath. As Queen she had to face her responsibilities, no matter how tempting it was to hide.

With Brice and Brienne taking charge of the prisoner, Sansa and Tyrion had returned to their chambers to freshen up. Their clothes were in tatters, covered in Gods knew what from the filthy tunnels. To make matters worse Tyrion was guilt-ridden for what they'd experienced. Her poor husband had fussed over her all the way back to their chambers; offering to wash her hair, find her clean clothes or anything else she needed. She'd gently declined his offers, telling him she'd take a bath in the other room and encouraging him to do the same. It was impossible to miss the flicker of hurt in his eyes - the fear that he'd upset her and somehow lost her love.

Sansa would never stop trying to understand her husband. There was nothing in the world that could make her stop loving him, nor was she angry with him. So much had happened this morning; she just needed a moment alone to process it. Just five minutes without her crown or expectations. Part of Sansa knew she shouldn't have pushed Tyrion away when he was so obviously lost in his guilt and wanted to help her – but changing her behaviours would take time. Having someone to rely on and confide in was something she'd missed since leaving Winterfell all those years ago and it was something Tyrion had very little experience of himself. Exploring that aspect of their marriage was a learning curve for both of them.

Knowing that Tyrion's anger at himself was likely growing with every minute she was in here Sansa quickly dried herself off, squeezing the dampness from her hair and slipping into a fresh gown. Her eyes fell on the ruined clothes lying on the floor. It had taken years but she finally understood Arya's need for breeches – gowns just weren't always practical.

True to form, when Sansa pushed open the door to their chambers Tyrion was pacing anxiously in front of the hearth. As soon as he saw her he hurried over, his golden hair hanging damply around his worried face.

"Sansa, are you alright?" he asked, gazing up at her

"I'm fine sweetheart" she said, offering him a smile

He nodded, though he didn't seem convinced "I thought you might be hungry so I had lunch brought up"

"Sounds lovely"

Tyrion hesitated a moment before reaching for her hand, but she closed her hand tightly around his hoping to reassure him. When they'd been exploring the passages Tyrion had been upbeat and playful - doing his best to make her comfortable. Now they were back in the safety of their chambers his guilt had bubbled to the surface. She let him guide her to the chaise where two bowls of steaming soup sat waiting along with fresh bread. The hearth was blazing as if it was the middle of the night in the depths of winter, rather than midday in the beginning of spring.

As soon as she sat on the chaise Tyrion handed her the soup.

"Is there anything I can get you?" he asked

"No, thank you"

"Oh, I nearly forgot" he said, his eyes widening as he hurried off to the bed

He'd only taken a few steps when she noticed his limp. It had improved a lot over the last few weeks, but it was far more noticeable now than it had been this morning. She didn't see Tyrion return until she felt a heavy blanket being draped over her shoulders.

"Tyrion…" she started

"It was cold and wet in those passages; you need to warm up"

"I'm fine…"

He hobbled in front of her again, tiredness hanging over his face as he watched her nervously "Do you need to see the Maester? There were stones and all sorts littering that crawl space - if you've any injuries at all-"

"Tyrion!" she said, stopping his rambling.

He flinched at her tone, his gaze turning downwards. As touched as she was by his concern, Sansa knew it was being driven by misplaced guilt. Whatever rashness had taken hold of him in the dungeons had long gone, his rational mind clearly catching up with him. Their underground excursion had taken its toll on Tyrion. It was easy to believe he'd fully recovered from the Wolfswood and his subsequent illness but this morning's activity appeared to have tired him out - his eyes were heavy and his clear limp were tell-tale signs he'd reached the end of his endurance.

"Sweetheart, I'm fine. Please, come eat with me" she said, patting the space next to her

Indecision flickered through his eyes before he picked up his own bowl and joined her. Sansa ate her lunch in silence, hoping Tyrion would start the conversation. There was something weighing on his mind but she didn't want to push Tyrion to share if he wasn't ready. Nevertheless she would need to start the conversation if he didn't. This guilt wouldn't be allowed to cling to her husband. No matter how long he'd been at Winterfell or how close they became, Tyrion seemed terrified of doing something wrong. As if making a mistake or breaking some imagined rule would be the beginning of the end.

It was when they'd both finished eating and put their empty bowls on the table that Tyrion finally turned to her.

"Sansa, I'm so sorry" he said "I shouldn't have gone into that passage. What I did was so stupid – I never meant to put you or Arya or Cayn in danger"

"You've done nothing wrong"

Tyrion shook his head "You told me to stay in our chambers; I should have obeyed you my Queen"

"Stop that" she said cupping his face, and drawing his sad green eyes to meet hers "You're my husband – not my servant. As lord of Winterfell you were well within your rights to investigate a missing prisoner"

"I worried you" he said "I know you're afraid to leave the castle...I never meant to put you in such a situation"

Sansa's brow furrowed "I'm not afraid to leave the castle"

"Of course" he agreed, desperately trying to backtrack "I only meant you're nervous in unfamiliar places"

Was that true? Just the other day Arya had said she was afraid of change. She was Queen in the North and this was her home – she couldn't be afraid.

'I'll always be part of you' whispered Ramsay

A shiver crept down Sansa's spine. This may be her home but it had also been her prison. Her childhood bed chambers had been her married room with Ramsay. The place she'd always felt safest had played host to her worst nightmares. When she'd reclaimed Winterfell with Jon she'd had the room turned into storage. Never again could she feel safe there.

"I'm not making this any better, am I?" said Tyrion

Sansa brushed her thumb over his cheek "No...you're right. I just never really thought about it like that"

The more she considered it Tyrion's words were true. She rarely left the castle and even within it she stayed in the rooms she felt safest – avoiding the lesser used rooms and the lower levels. It wasn't intentional. Sansa hadn't made a conscious decision to hide, but somehow that's what she'd ended up doing. She may no longer be Ramsay's prisoner, but his ghost was still holding her captive. The Queen swallowed thickly; that would have to change.

For now she returned her focus to her husband, leaning forwards to kiss his forehead.

"My love, what's troubling you so?" she asked softly

"Nothing...I'm just worried about you"

Sansa bit the inside of her cheek, considering how to approach this. This wasn't the first time she'd noticed Tyrion's guilt whenever he thought he made a mistake. The few times he'd shown his anger over her bedding of him or spoken up for himself against others he'd been guilt-ridden immediately after - as if afraid he would be punished. At first she'd thought it was simply unease in his new home following his exile from the six kingdoms, but as the weeks wore on the behaviour never changed - no matter how comfortable he seemed.

"You know this is your home, don't you?" she asked

"Of course"

"You know I love you?"

Tyrion's eyes brightened for a moment "As I love you"

"Do you feel safe here?"

"Sansa, why are you asking me this?"

He moved back slightly as if to pull his face from her hands, but Sansa tightened her grip - gently tracing the scar that cut across his cheek.

"I'm asking because there must be a reason"

"A reason for what?"

"Why you're so afraid to make a mistake"

"I'm not afraid" he said, swallowing thickly

Sansa shook her head "Whenever you think you've done something wrong or upset me somehow you're guilt-ridden. Sweetheart, you apologise for everything - no matter how small"

"I was wrong to go into that passage. It was stupid" he insisted

"Tyrion, I'll admit you scared me but it was hardly a major crime. Without you and Lyon we'd have never found that passage - if anything I was wrong to try and keep you in our chambers" she said "I've made so many terrible mistakes with you, and you've forgiven me every time; even when I don't deserve it. As soon as you think you've made a mistake, you act as though I'm going to have you beaten or thrown out. Are you afraid of me?"

"Of course not!" he protested, panic flooding his green eyes

"It's alright, you can tell me if you are; I'd understand"

"I'm not afraid of you" he insisted "You make me feel safer than I ever have in my life"

Sansa's heart fluttered at his words "Good - all I want is for you to be happy. Please let me help you"

Tyrion bit his lip, indecision warring in his green eyes. As much as Sansa disliked pushing Tyrion to share his thoughts, this behaviour couldn't continue. This was their home and she wanted her husband to feel safe no matter what he did.

"The next time you fail me, will be the last time you fail me" said Tyrion softly

"Who said that?" she asked, her brow furrowing

"Daenerys" he said, a haunted look creeping into his eyes "I made too many mistakes. Just before we moved on Kings Landing she said that to me; after she burned Varys alive"

Sansa's blood turned to ice in her veins.

"I failed one Queen, I don't want to do the same again" he continued, his gaze turning downwards "Daenerys turned on me at the end…I don't want to turn you against me too"

"Oh Tyrion" she said, letting go of his face to pull him into her arms "That could never happen"

"Daenerys was my friend; I believed in her and in the end she would have killed me" he said, dropping his head on her shoulder "You were right Sansa - I was afraid of her"

Somehow the truth made everything clearer, shining a light on Tyrion's behaviour. He'd believed in Daenerys and she'd turned on him when things went wrong. How could he not fear the same might happen again?

"Daenerys was unstable my love. You did your best to help her, from what I saw she took no-one's advice"

"I don't want to let you down"

"Never" she promised, kissing his damp hair "I'll never turn against you Tyrion - not for anything in the world"

They stayed like that for a little while, with Tyrion huddling against her as she rubbed his back. It was at her order Tyrion had been banished; losing his home and titles - and any security they'd provided. Coming North had surely seemed like a final chance; that any mistakes here would be his end. It was little wonder he'd feared any misstep.

Eventually Tyrion pulled back, though Sansa gave him a final squeeze before letting him go. His face was tinged red as he met her gaze "I truly am sorry Sansa"

"No more apologies" she said firmly, offering him a smile "This is your home my love; no-one will hurt you here. You can make all the mistakes in the world and it won't change anything"

"Even if I do stupid things?"

"If I punished people for stupid things, Arya would have been dead and buried years ago"

"As long as I'm not as bad as Arya" he said, a smile crossing his face "Thank you Sansa"

"Any time. If anything's bothering you at all, you can always tell me" she said, running her hand through Tyrion's still wet hair "Now, can you tell me something?"

"Of course"

"How much oil did you put in your hair? I can smell it from here"

Redness crept up Tyrion's neck "I know you like it soft, and I was apologising…so I thought more would be better"

"I see. You hoped to win my forgiveness with extra fluffy hair?"

"Lyon thought it was a good idea"

Her eyes wandered to the direwolf lying on a heap of blankets in front of the hearth. Much like her husband his golden hair appeared to be damp.

"Did you wash Lyon?" she asked, scrunching her nose in confusion. Direwolves cleaned themselves.

"Well, he was filthy from the tunnels - tired too"

"How did you find time to have a bath and wash Lyon? You had lunch brought up as well. I wasn't gone that long"

Tyrion rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to meet her eyes "I wanted to be ready in case you needed me for anything…certain tasks may have been combined"

"You shared your bath with Lyon, didn't you?"

"A time saving measure"

Sansa couldn't hide the grin spreading over her face at the image of Tyrion and Lyon sharing a bath. She could almost imagine them both sat in the tub, hurrying to clean themselves - her oil flowing freely between them.

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness my love, but you may need to rub the oil into your hair more" she said, tugging on a sticky curl

"It's possible I got carried away"

She leaned forwards kissing his forehead "Let me handle it"

"Very well" he agreed "I'm in your hands wife"

As they moved from the chaise Sansa searched her husband's face, relieved to find the guilt had left him. Knowing what had happened with Daenerys certainly explained his guilt-ridden behaviour, but it did leave Sansa wondering what had prompted him to confront Grey Worm in the first place. While she was quite sure part of it had been to prove himself she doubted it was the whole reason. However curious she was, Sansa wouldn't push him for more answers. He'd clearly carried what Daenerys said with him for a long time, and Sansa had to have faith he would share when he was ready.

While Sansa was pleased to see that Tyrion's mood had lifted, Grey Worm's escape hung over her like a dark cloud. The Unsullied captain had been one of the few links she had to tie Robin and Gawan to the horror of the Wolfswood. Now all of her husband's tormentors were out there and she had no justice to offer him. The threat against her family had grown and the only possible link was a guard with no obvious connection to Grey Worm. There was something missing that would make sense of things, if only they could find it.

The Queen shook her head clearing the thought. The logical part of her mind knew there was nothing more to be done. Maester Wolkan was sending ravens to their allies warning of Grey Worm's escape and the guards were searching around the castle. All she could do was wait for Darron to wake and hope they could get some answers. Accepting she could do no more wasn't easy, but it was the truth.


"Where would Grey Worm want to go in the North?"

Arya wished she knew the answer to Brienne's question. From what they could gather Grey Worm hadn't left Westeros with the rest of the Unsullied but had somehow made it North where he made a deal with Robin and Gawan.

"There must have been somewhere he was hiding. Tyrion said Grey Worm only came to the farmhouse when Robin and Gawan had gone" said Arya

"It would make sense they didn't want Grey Worm near their slavery business"

The harsh wind chipped at Arya's face as she looked out over the battlements. As far as Arya was concerned Grey Worm was long gone. The tunnel they'd found ran directly out of the castle and the escape had only been noticed this morning – there was no way of knowing how long he'd been missing.

"Grey Worm should have been executed in Kings Landing for what he did. The Unsullied killed men who were on their knees, but it was Jon and Tyrion on trial" said Arya, her hand curling around the hilt of her sword "Grey Worm had a chance to leave with his head but he comes here to kill Tyrion instead"

Brienne nodded "Ser Davos told me about Kings Landing and what Daenerys did"

It had been months but she could still see Kings Landing burning. Arya turned her attention to the snowy expanse of the North spread before them. Grey Worm could be anywhere, but wherever he was the Unsullied captain was a threat to her family.

"He came so close to killing Tyrion" said Arya, anger winding through her "if Lyon hadn't attacked him he'd have killed him in front of me – we were too far away to save him"

"Whatever you need I'm at your disposal" said Brienne, inclining her head "I serve Bran, but my sword will always be yours too if you need it"

Arya nodded her thanks "What I need is someone to stick my sword into"

"I don't understand how Grey Worm knew about that hidden passage - or that guard" said Brienne

"None of us knew about it" said Arya "we only found it because of Lyon and Tyrion"

"I went to see Bran earlier but his guard said he wasn't to be disturbed" said Brienne, her face pulling downwards "it's unusual - he normally doesn't mind"

Arya tried to ignore the pang of concern that went through her. From what Ser Davos and Brienne had told her Bran was acting out of sorts, being unusually tired and brief this morning. Part of her wanted to go to her brother and see if he was ok - ask for his guidance on finding Grey Worm. The larger part of her remembered what he'd said yesterday and it kept her firmly rooted to the battlements. If Bran didn't want to act like family then that was on him - he'd always be her brother.


"Please tell me this is your idea of a joke"

"If only it were" said Bran

Ser Davos ran a hand over his face, slumping in the chair. The King hadn't left his chambers all day, giving only short answers when they called upon him. When the bells had rang this morning and news of Grey Worm's escape had broken, he'd rushed to the Kings chambers followed closely by Brienne and Podrick. Bran hadn't looked at all well for the few minutes they'd seen him. He'd claimed it was tiredness and agreed to Brienne's request to help the Winterfell guards search for Grey Worm.

While Davos and Pod had searched within the castle, Brienne had joined the guards outside - all to no avail. All they had was a guard who had supposedly aided in the escape. When the King had summoned him to his chambers this afternoon he'd hoped it might be good news for a change, but that was too much to expect from the three-eyed raven.

"You do know I'm not much of a fighter" said Ser Davos

"I know"

The older man sighed. This job was going to be the death of him.

"At least tell me you had a good reason" said Ser Davos

"Reasons won't make any difference"

A bit of Bran's colour had returned from this morning, but the young King still looked unwell. His eyes were half closed as if the light of the afternoon was hurting him and he kept rubbing his head.

"We should go Ser Davos" said Bran "better not to delay"

"Aye, your Grace" moving stiffly from the armchair "If our heads end up on spikes, I was honoured to serve you - though it's aged me more than smuggling ever did"

The young King gave a half smile "The honour was mine Ser Davos"


Sansa shifted on her throne, appraising the young man before her.

Darron was quite new to the Winterfell guard. He was just past ten and six, sporting a tangle of red hair and a face that appeared far too young to develop facial hair. Only an hour ago Maester Wolkan had knocked on their chamber door, informing her Darron had woken and he could find no obvious cause for his headache and confusion.

Tyrion knew the guard - describing him as young, cheerful and dim-witted.

"Darron's a good lad" he'd told her "but I don't see how he could have possibly masterminded the escape of Grey Worm, let alone why he'd want to"

She'd spoken with Arya, Wolkan, Brice and Cayn too - all sharing similar sentiments. None believed Darron had the capability to help Grey Worm escape, let alone the motive.

Now the guard was on his knees before her awaiting her verdict on a story that made no sense.

Tyrion and Arya stood along from her with Maester Wolkan. Brice and Cayn stood behind Darron, both looking grim. Brienne and Podrick had joined them as well as a few Winterfell guards spaced around the room.

"Tell me again what happened" she said

Darron bowed his head, his hands trembling "Your Grace…please-I don't know. I was in the barracks just after my watch ended, and then-I don't know why but I…got the keys…"

"How did you know where the keys were?" asked Tyrion, his mouth turned downwards "You're a new, inexperienced guard. You wouldn't have been left in charge of the keys for a dangerous prisoner"

"M'lord, I don't know" he cried, his brown eyes begging them to understand "I'd never seen them before…but I just knew where everything was…like there was something controlling me"

"What did you do exactly?" asked Sansa

"I…I remember walking around the outside of Winterfell and going in some passage by the wall... and then I came out in the dungeon…I let him go-I'm sorry…I led him outside"

"And then?"

"I don't remember much…I had headache" he said, squeezing his eyes shut "nothing was right…like someone split my head open"

Sansa glanced sideways at Tyrion and Arya; both seemed as confused as she was. The young man was at least speaking coherently now, but he apparently still had headache. From where Sansa sat he didn't look particularly well.

"You've admitted to releasing a valuable prisoner" said Sansa, her throat tightening "You've committed treason"

"Your Grace…I'd never" he cried, tears leaking down his face as he turned to Tyrion "m'lord you know me - I'd never betray you"

Tyrion's frown deepened "Is there nothing else you can tell us? Did someone put you up to this? Threaten you at all?"

"No m'lord" he said, shaking his head "I did it…but I don't know why"

The Queen tightened her hands around the arms of the throne. All their evidence pointed to Darron's guilt - he confessed to doing it. Yet Sansa struggled to believe he was guilty. Regardless of her feelings there was no other evidence; a headache and feeling strange wasn't a defence either.

"Is there nothing else you wish to say in your defence?" she asked, her stomach churning

Darron lowered his eyes, his shoulders shaking "No, your Grace"

Sansa drew in a breath, the weight of her crown sitting heavily over her "Based on your confession and the evidence presented, I find you guilty of treason and sentence you to death"

Brice looked like he'd tasted something sour as he seized the young man, though it was nothing compared to the pain on Cayn's face as he took his other arm. Tyrion was staring at the floor as Arya moved to carry out the sentence.

"Wait!"

Ser Davos' shout echoed around the great hall, drawing all their attention to the side door where the older man pushed in Bran's wheelchair. The Kings hand was panting as if he'd run here, while Bran sat slumped in his seat - his expression unreadable.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Sansa, her eyes narrowing at her younger brother

"You have the wrong man" said Bran

"He confessed" said Arya, needle in her hand "he had the keys"

"Darron's body committed the crime, but his mind played no part" said Bran

A trickle of fear crept down the Queen's spine at her brother's words "What do you mean?"

"I freed Grey Worm" said Bran, his dark eyes staring into hers "Darron was merely my legs"

A moment of silence followed the confession before all hell broke loose.

Arya's attention whipped to Bran as the rest of the room hurried to intercede. Sansa sat frozen on her throne as Arya stalked towards their brother, her sword drawn. She was aware of Tyrion and Maester Wolkan trying to stop Arya, even as Brienne and Podrick leapt to defend their King. The Winterfell guards had also frozen with their swords drawn; somewhere in Sansa's mind she realised they were waiting for orders. Bran's confession seemed to have severed the connection between her mind and body, for all she could latch onto was the horrified face of Darron as he stood before the throne. Brice and Cayn still held him, but they appeared totally confused by what was going on.

"Your Grace"

Wolkan's voice drew her back to the present, as the old man's worried face appeared before her.

"Your Grace please, before this ends in blood" he said, turning to Arya and Bran – and the people stood between them.

"Move" growled Arya, trying to push past Tyrion

"Arya please" said Brienne, one hand on her sword; though her face was twisted in conflict

Order. There had to be order.

How could there be when her little brother had betrayed them?

A hollow ache spread through Sansa's chest as the various pieces slid into place. How had she not seen it before?

"Brice" she called, drawing the large man's attention "you and the guards will take Darron to the barracks and remain there until I summon you. Understood?"

"Aye, your Grace" he said, signalling for the guards to follow

Darron's jaw was hanging open as he stared at Bran, his eyes bright with horror.

"Come on" said Cayn, patting his shoulder and steering him out the hall.

Sansa understood his horror; he'd just been moments from death after all.

With the guards out of the way Sansa turned her attention to her family. Brienne and Pod had both drawn their swords to guard Bran, though neither looked happy about it. Ser Davos was stood to the side attempting to reason with Arya as Tyrion gripped her right arm in an attempt to hold her back.

"Arya stand down" she called, rising from the throne

"He betrayed us!" she shouted, her face twisted in anger. This was the most emotional she'd seen Arya since childhood.

"I'm aware" she said "but we will hear what Bran has to say"

Arya hesitated a moment before stepping back from the wheelchair – though her sword never left her hand.

Sansa descended the few steps until she stood between the two parties. Arya and Tyrion stood off to her right while Bran and his council were on her left. Pod and Brienne dropped back to either side of the wheelchair, both keeping their swords out.

She turned to Bran, her stomach churning as she looked at her brother "Explain. Now"

The three-eyed raven tilted his head to one side, his face as emotionless as his voice "I freed Grey Worm"

"Why?"

"He's not supposed to be here"

For the briefest moment Sansa considered slapping Bran. She couldn't take the empty eyes and detached words any longer. He was her little brother but he was a stranger.

"You betrayed us" said Arya, moving forwards with her sword pointed at Bran

Brienne and Pod moved to intercept but Bran held his up, signalling them to hold. Arya shrugged out of Tyrion's grip until she stood in front of their brother – her sword pointing at his throat.

"I did what was needed" said Bran

"You controlled Darron"

"I warged into him" said Bran, folding his hands in his lap

"Why?"

"I needed legs"

Sansa watched Arya's knuckles turning white around the hilt of needle with a sense of detachment, her mind spinning to accept the information that was rapidly overloading it.

"You used Darron like a puppet to do your bidding" said Arya, her grey eyes burning into their brother "You let a dangerous prisoner loose in the castle"

"Outside the castle"

"If you're so clever how did you know Grey Worm wouldn't kill Darron when he was free? How did you know he wouldn't go upstairs and kill Tyrion?"

Bran's voice never changed as he answered "I didn't"

Sansa wasn't sure it was the casualness of the answer or the answer itself, but something inside her snapped along with Arya's restraint.

"I should kill you" said Arya, her sword arm trembling as she shoved the tip of her sword under Bran's chin

"Lady Arya, please..." said Ser Davos

Brienne and Pod had their swords out but if Arya struck it would be too late.

Tyrion moved in front of Arya, holding his hands out "Arya, don't do something you'll regret"

"I don't think I'll regret this"

"Bran's your brother"

"So are you" she said, grief twisting her face "He put you and Sansa in danger"

"We can sort this without bloodshed" said Tyrion "trust me - you don't want to be a kinslayer"

A shudder went through Sansa as she watched Bran. He was one sword stroke from death and still he gave no sign he was bothered by what was happening. As if he hadn't ripped their family apart.

"Enough" called Sansa her own voice devoid of emotion as she looked at the three-eyed raven

"This can't go unpunished" said Arya her wolf eyes flicking to hers

"Bran is King of the six Kingdoms – killing him would start a war" said Sansa

"I don't care" said Arya

A dark part of Sansa wasn't sure she did either.

The Queen moved closer to her family, her eyes finding Tyrion's as he stood across from her. What Bran had done betrayed them all, but none more so than Tyrion - he was the one Grey Worm wanted to kill. If the turn of events had hurt him, Tyrion's face gave nothing away; his focus appeared to be on Arya.

Sympathy rolled through Sansa as she looked at her little sister. Of them all she'd been Bran's biggest supporter - insisting he was different but he was still Bran. Sansa would always love her little brother, but the three-eyed raven scared her. The things he knew, the things he could do - it wasn't natural. She'd been forced to accept that Bran wasn't the brother they'd once known, and now Arya was faced with the same truth.

She turned her attention to Bran, Arya's sword still resting at his throat "You say you warged into Darron - can you control anyone?"

"I can warg into animals, humans are very difficult" he said, wincing as if his own head ached

"Why Darron?"

"He was the most simple-minded person I could find"

"I nearly killed him because of you" said Arya, a snarl covering her face

"That's why I came to stop you"

They needed the details; there were questions that needed to be answered - but Sansa wasn't sure she could stomach it. There wasn't a hint of remorse in Bran's eyes.

"Where is Grey Worm?" she asked

"Gone" said Bran

Sansa's hand curled into a fist "Tell us where"

"I can't"

"Can't or won't?" snapped Arya

"Both"

"How dare you?" said Arya, her sword arm trembling "Tyrion's your brother too - and you put him in danger"

"Arya it's alright…" said Tyrion, moving to her side

"How are you not angry?" she asked, her face tightening "He betrayed you"

"Tyrion's used to being betrayed" said Bran simply

"Shut up!" said Arya, her head whipping back to the King

Sansa wasn't sure whether Bran was purposely antagonising them or whether he just lacked self-awareness. Whatever the case decisions would need to be made, and it fell to her to make them.

"You're leaving tomorrow" said Sansa

"As planned" said Bran

"Not soon enough" growled Arya

"I should throw you out now" said Sansa, her throat tightening "I should punish you for what you've done"

Bran said nothing, his dark eyes studying hers like a bird studies a worm. She hated this. It made sense now and Sansa hated that she was playing her part in it. Bran's distance from Arya, how Grey Worm escaped through a passage no-one knew of - the pieces fell into place and it brought Sansa no comfort.

"You will leave tomorrow as scheduled" said Sansa "and remain in your chambers until then. Ser Brienne, Ser Davos and Ser Podrick are free to make use of the castle as are your guards - but you will not"

"You can't be serious!" said Arya, her grey eyes murderous as her sword edged closer to Bran's neck.

"Arya, stand down" she said "I am Queen and my decision is final"

Her sister's gaze burned into hers, and for a moment Sansa thought she might refuse - that her sword would continue its journey through Bran's throat.

The room froze at the deadlock, until Arya finally withdrew her sword.

"Yes, your Grace" said Arya, giving Sansa a mockery of a bow before turning on her heel and storming from the hall

Brienne and Pod lowered their swords at Arya's exit, both looking uncertainly between Sansa and Bran.

"It was the right choice Sansa" said Bran, dark eyes studying hers "if you banished me now it would have damaged the relationship between our kingdoms"

"Like this already hasn't…" muttered Ser Davos, rubbing his beard

"Out of respect for our parents I won't banish you" said Sansa, narrowing her eyes "but if you threaten my family or the North again I'll take your head myself"

The three-eyed raven nodded as the weight of responsibility grew even heavier over Sansa. Arya may be furious with her, but at least she didn't have to fix this mess - Sansa had no such escape. The Queen's eyes moved to her husband and the distant look on his face. Something had been weighing on him all day, and this morning's excursion had exhausted him. Part of her wanted to take Tyrion back to their chambers and lock the door. They could hide away; just the two of them - and leave all of this to someone else. Yet Sansa was a Stark, and duty was in her blood.


Knocking on Arya's door was a dangerous proposition at the best of times, but particularly when she'd come close to killing her brother.

"Who's there?" called a gloomy voice

"Tyrion" he said "Can I come in?"

"Are you alone?"

"Lyon's here too" he said, glancing down at the direwolf. Him and Sansa had just come out of the great hall when the wolf appeared, as if looking for him.

"Fine"

Tyrion eased open the door, slipping inside with Lyon at his heels. Arya was sat in the window ledge, a collection of knives spread around her. He'd taken only one step in when she sent a blade spinning through the air to land in the centre of a wooden plank propped against the wall.

"Am I disturbing you?" he asked

Arya's face was tight "No, you and Lyon can come in"

From experience Tyrion knew speaking to Arya could be easy or difficult depending on her mood. He made his way towards her, dragging the chair from her desk to join her at the window. The girl was spinning a knife through her fingers as she often did, but her eyes were rimmed with red.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked

"About what?"

"Anything that might be bothering you" he said

"What could possibly be bothering me?"

Tyrion squirmed in his seat "Something with three eyes perhaps"

Arya's jaw tightened as she sent another knife spinning into the target "There's nothing to say"

"I know Bran's actions hurt you-"

"Hurt me?" she said her grey eyes narrowing at him "That thing in Bran's body is a monster"

"He's your brother"

"No, he's not" she said, her lip curling in disgust "He forced his way inside the mind of an innocent man and used him as a puppet to release a murderous prisoner intent on kiling you"

Tyrion's stomach rolled at Arya's words, his heart beat picking up pace. He'd tried to shake it all day, but the feeling of being hunted continued to cling to him.

"Yes, Sansa was going to speak with Darron when I left her. The young man deserves an explanation and apology"

"He deserves Bran's head"

"You can't really mean that"

The glare Arya shot him was enough to terrify a giant, but Tyrion knew her too well to be afraid. Even when she'd lunged at Bran he hadn't thought Arya was really capable of killing him despite her behaviour.

"How can you forgive him?" she asked "You have more right to be angry than anyone"

Tyrion leaned back in the chair considering how to answer "Do you remember when I propsed Bran as King?"

Arya nodded.

"I did so for many reasons, but primarily because Bran is the world's memory. He has access to all of our history; the mistakes and triumphs of the world. In knowing the past you can avoid the same mistakes in the future – it's fascinating"

"I think you mean disturbing"

"My point is, for Bran to take such drastic action there must be a reason"

"Like he's evil"

"I don't believe Bran is evil" said Tyrion, shaking his head "Nor is he a benevolent ruler – I chose Bran as King because I believed he was neutral"

"How is neutral better than good?" scoffed Arya

Tyrion tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair, a hint of regret swirling in his heart "I know what Daenerys was at the end; that she went mad. But Daenerys believed herself to be a just woman – that she was doing the right thing. Even when she did terrible things she believed it was justice; that was a liberator of the downtrodden"

"She's a rather extreme example"

"Alright, take Tommen then. I wasn't in Westeros for most of his reign, but from what I heard he was a kind King. Gentle and well-liked"

"He was weak"

The last time Tyrion had seen his sweet nephew was when he formally began the trial for Joffrey's murder before recusing himself. The news that Tommen had killed himself had broken his heart, and years later his memory still stirred guilt in his chest. If not for that damned trial Tyrion wouldn't have left Westeros, or killed his father. Tommen wouldn't have been alone with Cersei.

"Sorry" said Arya, nudging him "I know he was your nephew"

"No, you're quite right. Tommen was kind but he was weak – easily manipulated" he said, pulling his focus back to the point he was making "There you have two examples of decent people with good intentions. For evil rulers we need look no further than Joffrey and Cersei. Being good or believing you are just doesn't necessarily make for a good ruler. Bran is neither – he simply is"

"What he did was cruel Tyrion"

He nodded "Through our eyes of course it was, but Bran isn't looking through the eyes of an ordinary man. I believe what Bran did wasn't done with malicious intentions"

Having said his piece, Tyrion watched Arya trying to gauge her reaction. When Bran confessed Tyrion had been as confused as everybody else, but it also made sense of things. Who would know of a long forgotten passage in Winterfell besides a man who had access to all of history?

Arya's brows were furrowed as she processed his words. While Tyrion found it difficult to be angry with Bran, there was no denying his actions had wounded Arya who'd always been his biggest supporter. Sansa loved her brother, but didn't trust him the way Arya did – or at least had.

When Arya moved her gaze to him, her expression was unreadable.

"Want to throw some knives?" she asked, holding out a couple

He had no idea what conclusion Arya had come to and knew better than to ask. Instead he picked up a knife, feeling the weight of the handle in his left hand.

"I've been practicing" he said, recalling Arya's instruction on how to throw a blade. The skill was difficult enough, but Arya had insisted he only use his left hand for the activity as a way to strengthen the damaged limb.

"We'll soon find out"

"I sense you doubt me"

"Actions speak louder than words big brother" she said, her eyes turning distant


The path to the barracks didn't seem long enough for Sansa to get her thoughts in order. Not when there was so much vying for her attention. An innocent man had nearly died because of something Bran did. Grey Worm, Robin and Gawan were now all free in the North when they should be dead. Her younger brother had taken control of another human and betrayed them all. To make matters worse, when she'd left the great hall with Tyrion Lyon had been waiting for his master. For the little wolf to seek out Tyrion was a clear sign that her husband's mind was troubled. Not that Sansa had needed the sign. Despite Tyrion's guilt lifting following their earlier talk there had still been something weighing on his mind.

The list of problems to deal with was near endless, but her current task was the most immediate concern.

"Your Grace, you must not worry yourself - the decision you made was all you could have done given the evidence" said Maester Wolkan, shuffling along beside her

Sansa shook her head "Thank you Maester, but it doesn't change the fact an innocent man nearly died because of Bran"

"No-one could have imagined the truth"

"I wish I could forget it"

The Queen wasn't sure what bothered her more; that Bran had betrayed them or how he'd done it. Just the thought of Bran taking control of someone's mind made her skin crawl, but his strange powers proved to be the missing link that made sense of what had happened. What made it worse was her lack of surprise. As shocking as Bran's confession was, her mind had little trouble accepting his betrayal. She'd been uncomfortable in Bran's presence since he first returned to Winterfell but what he'd shown her in the Godswood had resigned her to the fact she would never understand him. It had been days since then and she still had no idea what she was supposed to have seen. All she'd gained from the experience was imagery to haunt her nightmares.

The barracks was a low building next to the armoury, mostly used by guards between watches. No-one permanently lived there, but it contained basic beds and facilities for the Winterfell guards to rest between duties. The Queen rapped on the heavy door, which was opened by a middle aged man a moment later.

"Your Grace" he said, his eyes widening in surprise

"Apologies for disturbing you, but I wished to speak with Brice and Darron"

"Of course, your Grace" the man said, pulling the door open to let them in

While Sansa knew asking to enter wasn't necessary she also had no desire to startle the men - or gods forbid see them undressed.

"They're in the room at the end, your Grace" said the man, bowing his head

"Thank you" she replied, trying not to gag at the smell of sweat that had assaulted her as soon as the guard closed the door

Sansa could honestly say this was a part of the castle she'd rarely visited - and hoped not to again for a long time. Basic beds lined the rooms as they walked through, various pieces of equipment scattered throughout. They passed a mess room where several men were playing some kind of game that involved a knife. Their eyes doubling in size when the Queen walked through - followed swiftly by a frantic bobbing of heads.

"Good afternoon" she called, pushing quickly towards her target. It occurred to Sansa that Tyrion was right - she was afraid of unfamiliar places even within her home. Her husband had offered to join her, but she'd told him to take some time for himself - promising to join him soon. Tyrion had given only a little resistance before wandering off in search of Arya, and Sansa had asked Maester Wolkan to join her. Her husband had looked tired since this morning and with Lyon's appearance she was keen to not let him get carried away with work. Tonight's farewell feast for Bran would be cancelled, so at least she could enjoy a quiet dinner with Tyrion - barring any more disasters.

While it was good to see Brice had apparently locked himself away with Darron to await her, Sansa wasn't enjoying her tour of the barracks. When she passed a door her nose told her contained the privy she considered a tactical retreat.

"How can the men stand it down here?" her nose wrinkling as the rancid smell assaulted her

"I assume they've gotten used to it" said Wolkan, his mouth turned downwards "I'm rather relieved I became a Maester"

"Be glad you weren't the Maester at Castle Black. When I went there to find Jon the conditions made this look like Highgarden"

"I can imagine"

When they finally reached the room at the end of the corridor, Sansa could hear voices on the other side.

"What was it like?" asked a voice she recognised as Cayn's

"I don't know…like a weird dream. I knew what I was doing but I didn't…"

Sansa drew in a breath as anger rolled through her. This was Bran's fault.

She nodded to Wolkan, the older man pushing open the door and leading her in. The Queen stepped into the cramped space, her eyes falling on Brice, Cayn and Darron sat around a battered wooden table.

"Your Grace" they greeted, moving to their feet

"Please, sit" she said. Maester Wolkan pulled out a chair for her and Sansa perched on the edge facing the three men.

Darron was directly opposite her with Brice and Cayn either side. The young man kept rubbing his head, brown eyes darting nervously between her face and the table.

"I owe you an apology Darron" she said "you were found guilty of a crime that you were blameless of"

"I did it your Grace" he said, his shoulders trembling "I never wanted to"

Sansa shook her head "My brother is the three-eyed raven. I don't entirely know what that means, but Bran has strange powers. He used you to free Grey Worm"

"I did it, your Grace" he said "I saw me doing it"

"It was your body, but it wasn't you" she insisted "You're not at fault"

"It was me though" he said, wrapping his arms around himself

Brice raised an eyebrow at her, shaking his head. Tyrion had described Darron as nice but dim-witted, while Bran had called him the most simple-minded person he could find. It was only now she understood what they meant. Despite Bran's confession, Darron couldn't quite grasp he wasn't at fault as he'd seen himself committing the crime. There was a blunt honesty about him that she liked. Just because his mind wasn't particularly sharp didn't mean he lacked the attributes of a good guard.

Sansa decided a different tactic was in order "Who are you loyal to?"

"You, your Grace" he said immediately "and lord Tyrion"

"My husband speaks well of you"

Darron's cheeks flushed "That's good to know"

"He's a loyal guard, your Grace" said Cayn, patting his comrade on the shoulder

"I agree" she said "Darron, I hereby rescind my earlier judgment. You are found not guilty and will not be punished"

The young man looked confused, as if he didn't know why he was innocent - until Brice leaned over to him.

"Accept it lad" he hissed "best not refuse the Queen"

That seemed to snap him out of his thoughts, his red head bobbing up and down quickly "Thank you, your Grace…I won't fail no more"

Sansa gave a tight smile, though anger coiled in her stomach. Who was Bran to use this man as a puppet? From where she sat he held more loyalty to the Starks than her own brother.

"Now that's settled I wish to offer you a reward. You were the victim of Bran's crime and your honour was questioned because of it. As Queen in the North I will not see the innocent punished" she said "Ask for what you wish, and if it's within my power I will grant it"

Darron furrowed his brow at her words and Sansa waited patiently for him to decide. If the perpetrator had been anyone but Bran she'd have taken their head and given it to Darron as justice. That was out of the question however. As murderous as Arya had seemed Sansa hadn't thought Bran was truly in danger, and to her annoyance Bran had sensed the same. The three-eyed raven was callous, manipulative and at times inhuman - but he was family. Though if Bran continued to act against their family that might well test her resolve.

"Have you decided?" she asked, as Darron lifted his gaze to her

"Yes, your Grace" he said, biting his lip "Could I have my job back?"

"Your job?"

"I always wanted to be a Winterfell guard" he said hurriedly "please, your Grace - I won't mess it up again"

The ability to ask anything of a Queen was one many would die for, yet Darron wanted nothing more than the job he hadn't actually lost. The young man before her may well be slower than others, but Sansa thought she might sleep a little safer tonight knowing there was a loyal, honest guard protecting Winterfell.


Bran watched the bird on his window ledge as it walked along, nudging off pieces of snow that tumbled down the side of Winterfell. The King considered warging into the bird and taking flight - the sky was always freeing. Yet his body rebelled against the idea.

The blinding pain in his head had diminished as the day wore on, but it continued to linger. Changing into Darron's skin had been incredibly difficult. Animals were simple, but a human being was a different matter entirely. The three-eyed raven had warned him during training that to enter the mind of another human was to be avoided - that it was an abomination.

He'd done so with Hodor on his journey North. At first it had been difficult, but gradually Hodor had opened to Bran as easily as a door. The power he held both repulsed and fascinated him. Was it cruel to have used Hodor and Darron as he had? Undoubtedly. Somehow Hodor had been easy for him. Wilas had essentially become Hodor because of Bran. Darron had been a different matter entirely. The guard's mind was soft and young - unburdened by the horrors of war the senior guards had experienced.

Bran sighed, rubbing his head. Despite the guard's simple mind he'd resisted. Bran's control over him had been minimal and lasted just long enough to get Grey Worm beyond the wall of Winterfell. Sansa had asked him earlier if he could control anyone and the answer was a resounding no. The effort of controlling Darron had nearly driven him mad. He knew his sister would worry about him trying to go in her mind, or Tyrion or Arya. She had nothing to fear on that count. Going near any of their minds would be the end of him; there was too much anger, pain and misery.

He wasn't all powerful. Bran had spent the rest of the night agonised in bed, his mind shifting through a thousand eyes - Darron's fear seeping into him. When the bells rang this morning he'd managed to feign wellness just enough to appease his council.

"Was it worth it, your Grace?" asked Podrick, standing guard at the door

"It was necessary"

"That's not what I asked"

"Whether it was worth it is of no consequence; it had to happen"

Bran had sought a way to avoid this, but there was simply no other solution. The old Gods likely agreed - he suspected they'd aided him controlling Darron, much like they blocked him from warging into Lyon. This was their territory and they made the rules. The three-eyed raven was a servant and not a god.

"Will the guard be alright?" asked Pod.

The young man wasn't usually so direct but he was as annoyed as the rest of his council. Brienne was friends with Arya and Sansa; Pod was friends with Tyrion - Bran hadn't missed the conflict in their eyes when they stood between him and Arya.

"I hope so" said Bran, his stomach lurching as he recalled the way Darron had resisted him

"You don't know?"

Bran returned his focus to the bird sat on the snowy window ledge, deciding not to warg into it. The bird seemed content enough without his interference, no matter how much Bran longed to fly.


An army would struggle to take Winterfell. The terrain was harsh and the castle well defended - it could outlast a siege that wasn't properly prepared. A single sellsword wasn't as much of a problem.

'The Eyrie. They say it's impregnable'

'Give me ten good men and some climbing spikes, I'll impregnate the bitch'

The echoes of a conversation held long ago, whispered through Bronn's mind as he secured his package to the base of the tree, covering it over with branches and snow in case of curious guards. Bronn had hoped to make it back to Winterfell in time for dinner, but his package had slowed him down considerably.

Moving towards the wall of Winterfell Bronn fell into the skills he'd perfected over a lifetime. The Winterfell guards were attentive and dedicated, but there were always gaps in the defence for a lone man to sneak through. Guards were trained to identify armies and large threats, not a single intruder who knew the castle well - who knew the routines of the guards. With nothing to do but wait for morning, Bronn decided it wouldn't hurt to check how things lay - just to be sure.

He may be a lord, a knight and master of coin - but his sellsword instincts would never rest. Wherever he went he familiarised himself with the layout and routines. Who knew when you may need to sneak away? The discipline had saved his life many times, and tonight it led him to exactly where he wanted to be.

Pulling himself up on the ledge, Bronn pressed himself against the wall as he shuffled around the tower until he was just below the window he wanted. He felt along the tower with his hand, finding a handhold to pull himself up. By the time he drew level with the window to the Queen's chambers, his arms were shaking from the effort - he was getting old. Fortunately there was a light on, casting a glow into the room as Bronn wedged himself beneath the window, using a single stone that stuck out more than the others as a tiny seat. It wasn't much, but it did take the strain of his arms. Glancing warily through the window, Bronn spied Tyrion and Sansa awake in the bed.

"You could have woken me up if you had a nightmare" said Sansa

"You've had an awful day Sansa - I didn't want to bother you" said Tyrion

Bronn risked moving his head forwards, confident the inky blackness of the night was enough to hide him from the small candle burning on Tyrion's side of the bed. The dwarf was sat up in bed, a book spread over his lap as if he'd been trying to read in the middle of the night.

"Sweetheart it's no bother" said Sansa, placing her arm around him "was it the Wolfswood again?"

He nodded "It was Grey Worm. When he came to kill me…I was helpless. I was just lying in the snow, waiting for death"

"You were badly hurt"

"Sansa I wanted him to end it. I sat back so he had a clear target"

The Queen took the book from Tyrion's lap, placing it on the side table before drawing him into her embrace.

"All my life I've been under attack. Someone's always wanted to kill me" said Tyrion, his voice breaking "Even my father said the day I was born he wanted to leave me in the sea and let the waves take me"

"I'm so sorry" she said, brushing her hand through the back of his hair "No-one will hurt you here, I promise"

"What happened this morning…I didn't want to wait for him to get me. I wanted to meet death on my feet - not like a coward"

"You're not going to die Tyrion" said the Queen, kissing his head "and you're certainly not a coward"

Bronn pulled his head back as the two continued talking. The old sellsword rubbed a hand over his face. He'd wanted to be sure and now he was. As different as Tyrion was he clearly loved Sansa - and the Queen in the North seemed to love him too. If it had been different perhaps he would've taken Tyrion south, but the last lion didn't want to leave and Bronn had found no reason to make him.

Creeping away from the window ledge, Bronn made his way back to his package. It had been tempting to simply return tonight, but he could stick it out until morning - and then he would speak to the Queen.