Hey!

So, as announced, this is the last chapter of the Cycle of the Stranger and it comes with a huge change at the end of it. I don't think any of you saw it coming and I would understand if you don't like it (Though I would prefer if you did x)).
This is also the last chapter that will happen fully in Winterfell until the sixth or seventh cycle (I have not decided yet).

Thank you to all those who reviewed, followed and favourited.

Enjoy!

Part I.7: Cycle of the Stranger

The Stranger takes the life away,
 when us men have done our day.
His sweet kiss leads us on his way,
 and he kills the little children.

Now that the betrothal was announced, Joffrey did all he could to get her attention. He was as courteous as a boy like him could be, he asked for walks around Winterfell and complimented her every time their paths crossed. It made Sansa feel sick, she saw now how false he sounded. His mother must have instructed him on what to say. She realised it now. Yet, she was sure that, in his early teenage years, he desired her, how could he not? It did not help with her discomfort to know that.

She did her best to avoid him, pretending to have lessons or other engagements. Lady Dustin was a great help in that. She was the only 'adult' around Winterfell who understood Sansa's uneasiness and helped her in a way. She was glad to pretend to give Sansa extra lessons – in truth, they were extra lessons – so that she would be free of the tyrannical Prince.

"Have you thought about what you would do once you leave for King's Landing, my dear?" The older woman asked her under the weirwood tree once.

"I don't think I will have a chance to escape him then Lady Dustin." Sansa sighed as she answered. "I will do my duty and walk arm in arm with him… pretending to listen to whatever lie he will want to tell me. Gods, I fear it will be hard not to get sick in front of him." She added dramatically.

Lady Dustin laughed. "You won't get sick Sansa, he is a southern prick but let's not exaggerate." She told her. Even though the woman understood that Sansa did not want to marry the Prince, she was mistaken as to the real reasons. Joffrey was not just a prick, he was a monster, but no one could see that until he became King. There were signs, but they could easily pass for royal arrogance.

Sansa had let the subject drop, but she remained miserable as ever… and she made the people around her somewhat miserable as well. Robb kept apologising for his comment a few days earlier and he worried since he did not understand why she looked so sad all the time. Her father tried to talk to her of the opportunities her marriage would bring her, but she could not help snapping at him whenever he did so. How can he be so blind? Well, coming from a man whose best friend is Robert Baratheon, it should not surprise me, I guess… And her mother tried to do the same as him, only, it was worse, because she made no effort to try and understand her daughter. Theon, Arya and Bran avoided her. She thought it was because they feared upsetting her. So, she could only count on Jon, once more.

"Have you considered telling your father the truth? Of your previous life?" He asked her that afternoon in the crypts.

"What good would that do? He would not believe me." She replied. He looked like he was going to protest, so, she explained further. "If I told him now, he would be convinced that I am making the story up to get out of the betrothal." She reasoned. "I am still a little girl in his eyes, I have always been… and I fear he does not know me well enough to know when I am serious." She paused. "Last time, when we arrived in King's Landing, after he had killed Lady, he offered me a doll. I had not played with dolls since I was eight. He did not know me then, and he does not know me now."

"But maybe if you told him things that there is no way you could know otherwise?" Jon suggested tentatively. She raised a brow. "Like the truth of my parents…"

"You told him you knew someone who could tell you. You could just have told me." She countered.

"I would back you up!" He protested. "Or you could tell him things that are going to happen in a few days or week and when they come true, he would trust you." He seemed in deep reflexion. "You could tell him that Daenerys will soon marry a Dothraki horselord. Or that the Queen and the Kingslayer are having an affair."

Sansa scoffed and he looked hurt by her reaction, she immediately regretted it and placed her hand on his arm warmly. "Jon… I have no way of knowing if the same things will happen across the Narrow Sea in this reality… As for the Queen, such a truth would be very hard to prove and extremely dangerous to reveal to anyone. And events have already started to change... Take Domeric Bolton for instance, he's still alive." She explained. "I thank you for your help, but I think there is no way out of this betrothal."

"There is always a way out Sansa!" He insisted. "Look at my mother. Sure, it did not turn out as she had planned, but she got a way out of the betrothal she dreaded." He pointed at his mother's statue.

"I don't have a Prince Rhaegar to rescue me, Jon…" She replied softly. "And I'm not sure I want to see the kingdoms bleed for me."

He gave her a sad smile. "You don't need a Prince Rhaegar, Sansa, you're strong enough on your own." He told her.

She laughed. "I am still a thirteen namedays old girl, Jon. I don't think I would be physically capable of running away. Besides, where would I go?"

Sansa could not avoid her intended forever, especially when Cersei Lannister wanted to get her way. Sansa remembered how confused she had been when the Queen suddenly turned her back on her, she had not understood yet then that she would always be judged according to the family she had been born into. She had been so eager to please Cersei and Joffrey… well, not anymore. Now, she wanted nothing to do with them. Yet, as the daughter of a Great House, she had little choice. When the Queen 'invited' her for tea with the Princes and Princess, she could not refuse. An invitation from Cersei was really a summon after all.

Yet, she wanted to make as little effort as she could. She asked her handmaiden to put her in a simple purple woollen dress and to style her hair in a northern braid. She knew the Queen would frown upon such a simple attire without jewellery or embellishment.

Sansa did not expect her mother to have been invited, however. She was surprised to discover her in the royals' company when she entered the room. She hid her surprise well though and fell into a perfect curtsy. "Sansa, come join us, little dove." Queen Cersei said, voice sweet as honey. She gestured to a chair next to Joffrey. The disgusting Prince wore his usual unsufferable smirk. How she hated that smirk! If only I could make him lose it. Better still, I wish I could carve a new one with a knife. She had discovered that imagining making the boy suffer eased her discomfort. When she sat, she creeped as far from Joffrey as possible without being offensive.

"So, you see, your Grace, for my youngest, we had a bassinet brought from the South. Rickon slept way better than any of the others. I think it's the weirwood…" Sansa fought the urge to roll her eyes. Apparently, her mother and the Queen had been deep in conversation already. She had to say she was impressed that Cersei did not show any sign of boredom. Her son though, did nothing to conceal his.

As should have been expected, he started the conversation with her. "Lady Sansa, my mother tells me you've never been out of the North." She was under no illusion that he was actually interested in her answer. He was only repeating what small talk his mother had taught him to get the conversation going.

She would not help him. "I have not, my Prince." She replied, face and tone neutral.

"You will like it there, my Lady. A beauty like you should not be hidden in such a faraway country." If it had been the first time she had met him, she would have agreed with him and she would have missed the disdain in his voice.

"Winterfell is my home, my Prince, I like it here." She had realised while he talked that their mothers had stopped talking.

"One day the capitol will be your home my dear, but I'm sure you will do well there." The Queen intervened with a false and slightly concerned smile. "Once you marry Joffrey and you have children of your own, Winterfell will only be a vague memory." She took a sip from a cup which clearly did not contain tea. "Wouldn't you agree, Lady Stark?"

"I do, your Grace, married life tends to change a woman." That's wrong, you never changed, not truly, Sansa wanted to tell her mother, but she knew it would be unfair.

"Yes, one day we will be married in the Throne Room of the Red Keep, and all the lords and ladies of the Realm will come, from the Last Hearth in the North to the Saltshores in the South." Joffrey announced grandly.

"Aren't the Dornish still at odds with the Crown, my Prince?" She asked innocently, it was hard not to laugh at his silly shocked face.

"Sansa!" Her mother reprimanded.

"It's alright Lady Stark, a bit of interest for matters of politics is always good in a future Queen." Cersei interjected but her eyes threw daggers at Sansa. "We do hope though, that by the time you wed, the matter with the Dornish will be settled."

Sansa was about to ask about Gregor Clegane, but Joffrey was quicker. "Yes! Lords who rise against the Crown should not be allowed to keep their title, or their heads." He spat. Catelyn Stark looked uneasy and turned her head to the two younger children who were playing together on the floor of their royal mother's suite. Cersei wore an expression of annoyance and preoccupation.

"I had not heard that the Dornish had taken arms against his Grace." Sansa feigned ignorance. In fact, she knew that if he could, Prince Doran would die without sending his men to war ever again, he loved his peace too much. He had died in some uprising last time, if she remembered correctly, but he had had his wish. The Dornish army had only entered the war after his death. Before they were crushed by the Ironborns.

"They have not… but they disrespect us!" Joffrey seemed embarrassed and furious that she had trapped him into default.

"Of course, my Prince." She sipped her tea and remained silent. No one talked for a few minutes, it was as if the two older women had lost their tongue. When they resumed talking, Sansa was left in peace.

It was only later when they were alone that her mother reprimanded her. According to the Lady, she should have made more efforts to talk to the Prince and she should not have mentioned 'irritating' topics. Catelyn Stark looked seriously upset and she had apparently not noticed the Prince queer behaviour, his aggressivity and the hints of cruelty that were already in him.

"You and Father might force me into this betrothal," Sansa retorted, "but you cannot force me to like him!"

Her mother looked taken aback by the venom in her voice. "Sansa… becoming Queen is an honour greater than anything we could have dreamed of!" She cried.

"We? I did not ask for any of this! I would be perfectly happy with the honour of being a northern Lady!" Sansa shouted.

"Look Sansa, I know you might be frightened. When I married your father and came here…" Her mother started.

"You were marrying Father!" Sansa interrupted. "Father never tried to kill his brother's kitten, he never insulted your own brother, and he did not look at you home with arrogance and disdain!" She countered.

"What are you talking about?"

"I talked with Prince Tommen, I talked with Robb and I opened my eyes." She kept shouting. "None of which you even considered doing…" With that, she turned on her heels. Ignoring her mother when she called after her was becoming a habit it would seem.

She went straight to her room. The dinner was to be a private family affair, she would not bother to go. She could not face her mother, nor her father just yet. Instead, she would just go to bed early. Maybe, if she fell asleep quickly enough, the hunger would not bother her at all.

Eventually, she fell asleep, but she could not say that it was a restful sleep. It was rather troubled by a confusing dream.

She anticipated the nightmare coming back, waiting to see the man with a bird's head or the dog one. They did not come, instead, she saw a familiar face. She had to admit, she did not remember his name, actually, she thought she had only ever known him as the butcher's boy. Arya's friend whom the Hound had killed on the King's Road. She frowned, confused.

"Are you satisfied with your new chance?" When he spoke, he did not have the voice of a young boy, he sounded ancient. His voice was gloomy and old, threatening almost.

Sansa pointed at herself, uncertain that he had spoken to her. He nodded. "I… I don't understand."

The face of the boy morphed into Ser Hugh of the Vale's, but the voice did not change. "I gave you a second chance at life. What have you made of it?" Sansa was still confused. Who was this man? He changed again, to depict her father this time. "Are you satisfied?" A new face once again, this time, it was Jory Cassel.

"You're… you're the Stranger?" She asked. Jory's face smiled and nodded. "You gave me a second chance at life…" She repeated. Thankfully, the god was patient and nodded. "I… I tried to change things; my siblings are better prepared than ever. My parents are more careful, even though… well, never mind."

"What about you, girl?" It was highly disturbing to hear this voice coming from Septa Mordane. "Are you happy?"

Was she? She did not even know. Her fate had not drastically changed yet, not like Robb's or Bran's or Jon's. She was still on a path that would have her go to the capital and marry Joffrey. Or at least be betrothed to him for a time. "I… I don't know." She revealed. The face changed again into Joffrey's.

"It has not changed much, has it?" He did not wait long, and she did not answer. She was somewhat ashamed. "You've done everything you can to prevent the deaths of your family and yet you've neglected your own happiness. Is this why I've brought you back to life, girl?" He became Dontos as he said the last words.

"Stop torturing the poor girl, Brother!" An old woman Sansa had not seen was approaching. She was dressed in dark clothes and rested on a wooden cane. In her free hand, she held a candle. Sansa could not see her face, it was hidden behind curtains of white hair. "What my brother is poorly trying to say, Sansa, is that you don't have to suffer the same events as last time. You can forge your own path."

"I'm not sure I understand…" Sansa's lips trembled. "Who are you?"

"Come on, girl, you're smart enough to figure that out." The Stranger took the body of Lysa to answer her. She was smart enough to figure it out… Well, it was obvious, but Sansa was not sure she wanted to have guessed correctly.

"How can I change the events? My father decides for me… I have no choice." Sansa protested.

"We always have a choice, girl." The Stranger – who had morphed into Ramsay – told her.

"Follow me, child." The old woman said. Sansa turned to the Stranger, she did not really know why, but he seemed less dangerous than his 'sister'. Several faces alternated as he waved her goodbye. First, he was Roose Bolton, then Littlefinger, then Theon, then Lyanna Mormont followed by Jorah Mormont, and finally, he was her.

She quickly turned to go after the old woman. They walked in silence for a time and finally arrived in the Godswood of Winterfell. It was night-time and the red leaves of the heart tree took a blood-like colour in the dark. Sansa saw a girl, a few years older than she currently was running into the sacred place. She looked a lot like Arya, prettier though. She paused before the heart tree and looked behind her. Sansa could see conflict on her face, it was as if she wanted to leave, but at the same time wanted to stay. Eventually, she stopped looking back and walked to a place along the walls, hidden behind bushes and thorns. There was a crack in the wall, one Sansa had never seen, she slipped through it and disappeared into the night.

"It was… my aunt Lyanna?" Sansa asked uncertainly.

"A brave girl." The old woman confirmed. "She chose her own path, she chose and made a great sacrifice when people around her stopped listening to her, stopped understanding her." The woman sounded admiring of the young she-wolf of Winterfell.

"But she died!" Sansa protested. "Her choice led to her death and the death of her family!"

"Did it?" The woman replied mysteriously. "She died indeed, but she died a death worthy of her, as for her father and brother… their own choices brought them to the grave. We all have a choice, Sansa Stark, we all have a choice. What will you choose?"

Behind the woman, it was as if the world had been split in two. On her left side, Sansa saw King's Landing and herself surrounded by white cloaks floating in the air, there was a menacing lion cub, biting her at the ankle. On the right side, she was running with two wolves whom she identified as Lady and Ghost they were in a field of snow, an endless one.

Sansa woke up and immediately felt the need to go to the crypts. She quickly put on a simple blue dress and tied her hair into a bun as neatly as she could in her precipitation.

It was morning already, judging by the number of servants who were already out and about. They all greeted her, and Sansa did her best to answer to them all, but she was in a rush. After what seemed like an eternity, she reached the wooden entrance to the crypts, and took a torch pushing the heavy door before her. The darkness of the cave engulfed her, but she saw a flicker of light before her. Jon, she thought.

She was wrong, it was not Jon she discovered kneeling before Lyanna Stark's statue but her father. Lord Eddard did not cry, he only had a sad expression on his face. No, not sad he realised, guilty. She had never understood before, why he so rarely spoke of her with them. She had thought it was because of grief. But the Warden of the North did not only feel sad of his family's death, but he also felt guilty. He had been the one to arrange the betrothal between Robert and his sister. He had ignored her pleas to call it off. He had not stood up to Robert when he dishonoured Lyanna whoring his way through the war. He had failed the pack. Then why is he doing the same to me?

"Sansa? What are you doing here?" He frowned when he noticed his daughter.

"I wanted to pray on Aunt Lyanna's grave, I find it brings me comfort." She lied, in fact, she had hoped that coming here would help her understand what the Crone had meant. Helped her make a choice.

"It brings you comfort?" Her father repeated incredulously. Sansa nodded. "Well, you're free to come here whenever you want, but for now, I think it is time to break our fast. We would not want your mother to worry." Since Sansa had made it a habit to skip meals, she doubted her mother would worry. She let her father guide her out, nonetheless.

Sansa quickly understood that the time for the hunt had arrived. It was really when things had started the last time, even if she had not understood it immediately. It was during that hunt – during the first hours, in fact – that Bran had fallen from the tower. While Sansa had no doubt that Jaime Lannister would still fuck his sister in the tower this time, she was sure that Bran would not catch a glimpse of them. Brandon Stark in her new reality did not climb since the squirrel incident. Therefore, there was no way he would end up a cripple like last time. He would leave for the capital with their father and the girls. Where he might become a cripple because of the cruelty of some… She added sombrely to herself.

The fact that Bran would not fall meant that this time, the hunting party would be gone for two days and a night, as was originally intended. When she was done with her morning meal, she caught Jon by the wrist and pulled him into the crypts. "Sansa!" He hissed once they were away from unwanted ears. "Did you really have to do that?" She had indeed taken him without much decorum, and she was sure that if one of the boys had caught a glimpse of them, they would make fun of Jon for being 'captured' by a girl.

"I had a new dream last night." This statement calmed him instantly. He was now focused and alert. "With the Gods… I think I'm on the verge of making a very important choice."

"Sansa, you're not making much sense." Jon told her.

"I know, I'm not sure I understand it myself." She sighed. "Basically, I've seen two alternate realities. One where I suffer in King's Landing and one where I'm free in the snow." She paused trying to see if Jon understood what she meant, he was just frowning. "They also showed me your mother escaping from Winterfell."

"Why would you see that?" He asked clearly confused.

"I think it's a message. I think they wanted to tell me that if I go through with going South and this betrothal, I will never be happy. I think… I think we have to escape." She breathed out.

"Hang on, Sansa, when I said you could find a way out… I did not mean follow everything my mother did. I mean, yes, maybe at the time I meant that but… Would you really abandon Winterfell and your family?" He looked at her with concern. "And what is this 'we' I hear?"

"I know it sounds scary, but really you were right!" Sansa countered. "The only way out is out of Winterfell. I will miss them all dearly, but I have given them everything I could to survive." She paused. "And, in my dreams… in the snow… I saw you with me." She revealed. Well, she actually saw Ghost, but that could only mean that Jon was with her.

"I was with you?" He asked. She nodded. "Hang on, what exactly are you trying to tell me?"

"I want us to leave. Tonight. While Father and the King are away. By the time they come back and discover we have gone, it will be too late." She explained.

"Sansa… surely your mother or Septa Mordane or Lady Dustin will discover that you've gone before that." He protested.

"I doubt it for the first two and Lady Dustin will be on the hunt, I heard her say so to Robb this morning." She countered.

"But Sansa… the kids… your parents…" He started stuttering.

"I know…" She took him by the arms. "I know it will be hard and I know it will hurt to be away from them. I know we'll make them suffer. But Jon, I have this weird feeling that if we don't leave, they will all suffer like they suffered in my previous life. If leaving is the small sacrifice I can make to save them then I am willing to make it." She stopped. "And I won't be alone, you will be with me. Won't you be with me?" She asked full of hope and anguish.

"Of course, Sansa. Of course, I will stay with you." He took her in his arms. "But where would we go?"

"Somewhere they would not think to search. Somewhere even Varys cannot trace us to, maybe." In truth, she had not really thought about it and Jon could not help her. She needed the knowledge she had from her first life.

"Essos?"

"Varys has little birds there. He would find us eventually. No, we cannot go there, not at first at least." She answered.

"Do you know where this Varys has no spies?" She realised Jon had little idea who Varys was.

"He is the King's Master of Whisperers. He has little birds in all of the civilized world and even in the Dothraki Sea… but not North. Not beyond the Wall." She said.

"Sansa! You want to go beyond the Wall? Sansa, we will die there!" He protested vehemently.

"No, we won't." She replied. "Not with the wolves. Not when I know where we should look…" Jon shook his head in disbelief. "Do you trust me?" She asked, cupping his face in her hands. He nodded. "Then trust me when I say we will be fine."

"I just… I think of your family. They might think the worst has happened to you or to me. Or even worse, that I did something to you." She understood his distress. Of course, her mother would be quick to blame the bastard if she were to disappear.

"I think I have an idea." She told him. "I will need paper and quill."

"Where do we meet? When? What do I bring?" She knew he was starting to panic.

"Meet me in the Godswood at the hour of the wolf tonight. I will have horses ready for us, I'll find a way. Bring a change of clothes and some food, a sword too. I'll bring my bow. Don't pack too much though, no more than a saddle bag, we'll have to make do on the road." She explained. Jon nodded, before letting him go, she kissed him on the cheek. To give him courage, she told herself. Truthfully, she needed courage as much as he did.

Sansa found herself in the Godswood in the afternoon. She wanted to pray, but most importantly, she did not want to have to watch them go. Father, Robb, Theon, Lady Dustin… It would be too much of a goodbye and she was not sure she could bear it. So, she stayed kneeling in front of the weirwood tree. It was strange now that she thought of it that she still prayed mostly there and not in the sept. She had met two of the Seven already. She knew they existed and still she stubbornly remained faithful to the gods of the North. Where I'll go, the Seven have no power, she thought for reassurance. Maybe they did, maybe they did not. It mattered not anymore, she had taken her decision, she had made her choice.

Arya Stark

"Jon and I are going to leave for a little while. We cannot take you on this adventure, sweet sister, but one day we will take you on all the adventures you want. You just need to grow a little more. Father, Mother, and the King will probably be very upset when they realize we are missing, but you have to remember, you cannot tell them anything, little wolf. You have to keep the secret, can you do that for me? In a fortnight, you will give this letter to Father and to Father alone, no one else can see it, do you understand? You cannot open it, you have to give it to Father a fortnight after we've left. Will that be okay? I love you little wolf." Sansa's words were engraved in her memory. She had cried the following morning when she had realized that Sansa and Jon had indeed left, but she kept her promise.

She had said nothing when Father and the King came back from the hunt. It was easy at first, no one noticed they were truly gone until the next morning, almost three days after their departure. Only Robb had inquired about their whereabouts and Arya had shrugged when she was asked about it. She hated to lie, but it was important to Sansa, so she did as she had promised.

It was weird, how much they all panicked. Father sent men out, when they came back without Sansa and Jon, the King sent his own men. They did not succeed where the northerners had failed. Even Queen Cersei, in all her passiveness, got angry. She ranted about the Starks always causing trouble whenever Arya's father was not around. She also blamed Robert for betrothing Sansa and Joffrey.

Mother shouted a lot and cried a lot. Most of her anger was directed at Father… and Jon. She cursed Jon day in and day out. Rickon became so frightened by their mother that he stopped following her around and instead clang to Arya. At first, she wanted to send him away, but she soon realised that her little brother was suffering, and she accepted his company. In fact, all the children turned to Lady Dustin for comfort. Once, she even saw Bran crying in her arms. He was very upset when he realized that Arya had seen him with tears in his eyes.

Robb, Wynafryd and Theon sulked. They refused to talk to her, they refused to talk to anyone. She had heard some of their conversations over the days. They were angry and confused at Jon. Arya did not understand why. Jon had done nothing wrong. He and Sansa had left on adventures…

But she could not say that. More than once, when she saw her siblings or her mother cry, she had almost given them the letter from Sansa. But she could not, she had promised, Sansa was counting on her and she did not want to disappoint her sister. Sansa was her pack, she loved Sansa. So, she remained silent. The royal party was supposed to leave five days after her siblings' disappearance, but they could not. The King announced they would stay in Winterfell until 'Lady Sansa was found safe and sound'. He was not drunk when he said that, and it frightened the little girl that she was even more.

She waited until a fortnight had passed. That night, she prayed in front of the heart tree, begging the gods to allow her to be brave. Then, she walked to her father's solar. She knew there was great chances that he would be there. He spent most of his time sitting at the desk when he was not with the King. He did not even go to his chambers to sleep because Mother would not let him.

So, when she knocked, he opened the door, as she had thought he would. "Arya?" He was understandably surprised to see her. She had avoided him more than anyone else in the last weeks. She feared that if she saw him she would tell him everything she knew.

"Father… I have something to show you." She said. "It is important." She added.

"What is it, little wolf?" He closed the door and petted her hair. She gave him an uncertain side look and produced the letter from behind her skirt.

"Please don't be mad." She told him as she gave it to him. "Sansa said I could not give it too soon, and I could only give it to you." At the mention of her sister, Father started opening it frantically. His eyes widened in horror as he read it. Suddenly, he turned toward the hearth where the fire was starting to die out and he threw it in. "No!" Arya shouted and lunged toward the fire. She had waited weeks to see what Sansa had to say. He could not destroy her words.

Ignoring the flames, she retrieved the burning paper. The fire had not eaten all of it yet and she managed to extinguish it. "Arya!" Father shouted. But she ignored him, she was focused on the paper.

… could not stay. Rest assured that I know you have always done your best when it came to our education and upbringing. Only your best is not the best and I wish you could have seen that.

I know my decision will cause you pain. For that I am sorry. I do not make this choice happily, only because I do not think there is any other one for me. If I had my way, you would not have become Hand of the King, none of us would have had to leave for the capital. But your honour dictates it. I ask you this question: what is honour compared to the lives and happiness of your children? Unfortunately, I believe I know the answer.

I have always wondered what Aunt Lyanna told you when she was forced into a betrothal with Robert. Now I think I understand her.

Please, do not search for us. One day, the Gods be good, we will come back and bring Fire and Blood to our enemies.

Your d…

The top had burnt away, as well as the signature. Arya did not understand a word from the letter. It did not sound like Sansa. It sounded like… she did not even know. Like an adult, maybe.

"Arya!" Father's voice brought her back to reality. "Arya your hands!" He shouted. She turned them and gave them to him, letting the letter fall on the ground. Her fingertips and her left palm had been burnt as she retrieved the letter. She did not even feel it. "You have to see the Maester." He lifted his face to her and paused.

Arya felt the tears running down her cheeks. "What does she mean? When will Sansa and Jon come back?" She cried. "I'm sorry Father, I'm sorry." She buried her nose in his shoulder and circled her arms around his neck. She realised now – even if she did not understand everything – that she should have given the letter to her father right away. Somehow, she knew her siblings were not coming back for a long time.

"Shh… It's alright Arya. I'm not mad at you." He stroked her back. "We will go see Maester Luwin and then we will find Sansa and Jon. Everything is going to be alright, my little wolf." She did not know if he had ever done that before, but that day, Arya knew Father was lying. Everything was not going to be alright and Sansa and Jon would not be found. Worse, they did not want to be found.

So, now you know, Sansa fled with Jon. Where do you think she'll go in the future? Will she stay beyond the Wall? What do you think she'll do?

Next chapter: The journey to the Wall. Guest POV: Tyrion

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