Rise & Fall Chapter 40, a game of thrones fanfic

Chapter 40

Nessa hurried through the village, weaving between the people bustling about in the early morning sunlight. The air was crisp and cool despite the bright morning but that was to be expected in the North. What most Northerners considered a nice day would be cold anywhere south of the Neck.

She'd found it strange at first, how Tyrion would say it was freezing outside but her mother told her it was warming up nicely. People in the village had often called Tyrion an outsider when he married the Queen. They'd say he was from the south, that he was a Lannister - as if it was a terrible thing. Nessa's mouth quirked up at the memory. People didn't say that anymore, and Nessa had never understood it. Tyrion treated her well; far better than other lords treated their servants. Besides, Tyrion lived in the North so surely he was a Northerner too?

She wound her way through the streets, clutching the paper in her hands like a lifeline.

"Watch it" snarled one man as she bumped into his leg

"Sorry" she said, glancing up to see the man's eyes narrowed at her

Nessa veered away quickly, disappearing into the crowd. The village had been on edge since Tyrion left. People were snapping at each other more, and whispers were running rampant around the village. Just yesterday she'd heard a rumour the Queen had fed Tyrion to the hounds like her last husband. Nessa's nose scrunched at the thought. The Queen was scary, but not as much when Tyrion was with her - she smiled more, and Nessa thought her eyes weren't as cold as she originally thought. Still, Nessa had gone to the kennels all the same and Emory had convinced her it wasn't true.

"Don't you worry girl" the old man laughed "the hounds aint been eating any lions"

Queen Sansa had told her Tyrion and lady Arya were away on business, and Nessa had been left nothing to do in his absence. She'd tried to think of what Tyrion would want her to do, so she'd practised her reading, helped the other servants run messages around Winterfell and visited Esther. That was something Tyrion always liked to do, but it wasn't the same without him and Lyon. The days had plodded on since Tyrion left, until this morning - when a knock on the door had roused Nessa from bed to find Esther stood in the doorway.

The old woman was breathing heavily and leaning on a stick she'd taken to using but her eyes were bright as she pushed a small, sealed letter into her hands.

"I got a letter this morning. As the Queen's seamstress they often come from the castle. Not from Queen this one" she'd said, a smile pulling at her mouth "I open it to find a message for me, and this one for you"

"For me?" Nessa had asked, gazing in wonder at her name on the letter

"Aye. The little lion asked me to give you this with all the speed I had"

Excitement bubbled through Nessa as she stopped in front of a beaten wooden door, but she was quick to dampen it down. There was work to be done and Tyrion had trusted her to do it - she wouldn't disappoint him.

Nessa rapped on the door, fidgeting on the spot until it opened.

"Hello Nessa dear" said the woman, her brow creasing "is something wrong?"

"Can I see Lyle please" she said, tightening her grip on the letter "it's really important"

Tyrion flew through the air, crashing painfully onto the ground less than a moment later. He groaned, forcing himself to his knees just as a foot connected with his ribs sending him tumbling away.

"Pathetic"

He lifted his head at the voice to find Robin sneering down at him.

"You really are useless Lannister" said Robin "It's no wonder your wife didn't trust you"

Tyrion struggled to rise, pausing as another voice joined Robin.

"I told you he's much better suited to being a pet than a lord" said Gawan, a grin covering his face

They were stood in an open field, with dark grey clouds gathering overhead and a few flakes of snow beginning to drift to the ground. Tyrion's body protested every movement but he forced his way to his feet, anger filling him as he faced the two young lords.

He opened his mouth, ready to unleash his rage on his tormentors - only nothing came out.

"Aww, what's wrong? Has the little lion lost his voice?" mocked Robin

"Go on Lannister, show us your roar" added Gawan

It was no use, Tyrion's mouth was moving but no words would come out. The clouds darkened as a vicious wind whipped around Tyrion.

"Still you disgrace me"

Tyrion spun around, turning from Robin and Gawan to find his father watching with disgust. His hands were clasped behind his back as he stared down at his son.

"These boys beat you, they humiliated you and still you can't fight back. You're no son of mine"

"Of course he won't fight back" said Daenerys, her voice full of scorn as she joined the circle "When things get difficult he hides. All his cleverness is only useful to save his own skin"

The snow was falling heavily now, as the ghosts of his past and present closed in around him. More soon joined in, until Tyrion was surrounded on all sides by enemies - their words cutting him more than any knife could.

"I wanted this for you" said Cersei, her green eyes like wildfire "I wanted you to know real, true love before it was stolen from you"

Red hair caught his eye, and Tyrion's heart lifted as he turned to face it. Rather than the familiar, comforting face of his wife he came face to face with Catelyn Stark. He opened his mouth to speak, hoping this spectre may be a friend rather than foe. They were family now, were they not? No words would come, and the look in lady Catelyn's eyes soon killed any hope he held.

"Sansa wanted so much as a girl. She wanted a dashing knight or a handsome prince" said Catelyn, sadness crossing her face "Instead she got you. A Lannister. A man without honour"

Tyrion's heart dropped to his boots as the voices grew louder around him. He wanted to protest; to deny their accusations against him, but part of him couldn't. It was all true - he was nothing. The snow swirled harder than ever, battering at him as he stood trapped in a circle. All the fight drained out of him as he stood there.

"Run where you like" said Robin, stepping closer "when the Queen falls I'll come for you - and I'll lay her corpse at your feet before I tear you apart"

'No' he thought, fear ripping through his heart 'not Sansa, please, not Sansa'

Wind rushed at Tyrion, knocking him backwards. As he fell, the ground disappeared beneath him until he was tumbling into a void of darkness...

"Tyrion!"

The voice penetrated his nightmare, jerking him awake to find someone shaking him. Disappointment shot through him as he once again woke to Arya's grey eyes staring down at him. Concern was etched across her face, and Tyrion assumed she'd been trying to rouse him for some time. Lyon was there too, licking at his already damp face and nudging against him.

"Sorry" he said, dropping his eyes to the floor of the small cabin

"Me too" said Arya

There was no need to pretend with Arya; she could see right through him and they both knew whose comfort he really wanted. She sank onto the floor next to him as he pulled himself into a sitting position and Lyon made himself comfortable lying across his legs. It was just them in the cabin, and Tyrion was fairly sure Arya had arranged it that way. Last night he'd had a nightmare and panicked Cayn who couldn't wake him. The young man had run to Alec and Brice for help, before Arya evicted them all from the cabin. By that point he'd woken up, but the crying in his sleep had translated to tears still running down his face as he woke in a panic. His nightmares hadn't been this bad since just after the Wolfswood, but he'd had Sansa beside him then. Even when there had still been distance between them she knew how to soothe him - just her presence was enough.

"Want to talk about it?" asked Arya

"No, thank you" he said, drawing in a shaky breath "I'm sorry I'm like this"

"Like what?"

"Weak"

"You're not weak. Stupid maybe, but not weak"

"The other men shouldn't have to stay out while I sleep"

"If they were in here you wouldn't sleep because you don't want them to see you having nightmares" said Arya, laying out the facts "You need sleep and I don't really give a shit what they think"

It was an unpleasant truth to accept but Arya was right. They needed to sleep in shifts to keep the ship moving towards White Harbour and his ridiculous nightmares had made things even more awkward by requiring him and Arya to be off together.

"They may be idiots but they are your friends" added Arya, as if reading his mind "they understand why you need some privacy. Anyone would after all the shit you've been through"

"Everyone has suffered in some way Arya"

"Not like you they haven't"

Tyrion wound his fingers through Lyon's thick fur, letting the wolf's presence ease some of the fear still running through him.

"I've always had nightmares" he murmured, continuing before he changed his mind "all I heard as a child was how I tore my mother open on my way out of her. It was thrown in my face all the time by my sister, and my father when he was in the mood. Who says that to a child? My dreams were often dark and the experiences of my youth didn't improve things. I took to avoiding sleep or exhausting myself so I didn't dream. Wine, whores and books"

Bitterness tinged his last words. So many years he'd wasted on wine and whores to fill the emptiness in his heart, and all he'd really needed was love. Not the kind that was paid for - not lust and lies, but a deep connection to someone else. His dreams were still vivid and dark in Winterfell but he no longer feared sleep. When his mind turned against him in the night Sansa was there to comfort him - only now she wasn't, and the dark whispers of his mind constantly threatened to take hold of him.

"Your father and sister are lucky to be dead" said Arya, her voice carefully controlled "I would have liked to take my time with them"

"I wanted them to accept me" he admitted. It was like a shameful secret, but part of him had wanted their acceptance. His father's eyes had held such pride for his golden twins; Tyrion had wanted it too - even if it only lasted for a fleeting moment.

"They would never accept you" said Arya flatly "Jon wanted our mother to accept him for years too and she still resented him when he left to take the black"

"I saw that when I first visited Winterfell" said Tyrion, slumping back against the wall "Forgive me Arya, I'm rambling about nothing. My family is dead and my father disowned me with his last breath. The past cannot be changed as Bran often says"

"It can't" she agreed, dropping her head against his "and you're a bigger idiot than I thought if you think your family is dead. Tywin and Cersei were your blood, but that doesn't make them family"

A lump formed in Tyrion's throat as he accepted the comfort he'd always been denied, the kind only a sister could offer. Lyon squirmed closer too, nuzzling his head against his stomach. His nightmare wasn't real. The dead were dead, and he wasn't alone. The men on the ship were his friends, and Arya and Lyon were his family. There was only one piece missing.

"We will make it in time big brother" murmured Arya "then we can tell Sansa exactly how stupid she is"

"I hope so" whispered Tyrion, closing his eyes to make another attempt at sleep as the ship rocked gently beneath them. It would take another two days to reach White Harbour, and until then there was nothing to do but wait.

Lyle winced, rubbing at his side as he made his way out of the barracks. It had taken some persuading but Maester Wolkan had cleared him to return to his duties as long as he reported any pain to him.

"You should probably remain in bed another few days at least" the old man had advised

"I'm fine" Lyle had insisted, nodding towards the main room of the house where his mother sat "besides…it's kind of lonely here"

"Of course" Wolkan had said, understanding sweeping over his face "perhaps returning to some routine is for the best. If it puts your mind at ease, I'm sure Cayn is fine"

His heart twisted at the thought of his brother. If not for his injury Lyle would have gone with them, but instead he'd been forced to stay behind and sworn to secrecy about what was going on.

As soon as Lyle stepped into the courtyard Nessa pounced on him.

"Did you do it?" she asked

"Not here" he said, glancing around the busy courtyard and leading her towards a quiet corner

"Did you do it?" she asked again

Lyle sighed, running a hand through his long hair "Look, it's not that simple. The guards all respect Tyrion, but the Queen's word rules"

Nessa thrust the letter towards him "Tyrion asked us to do this"

"Are you sure you read it right?"

"Yes! Tyrion showed me how to read"

"Ok" he said, knowing arguing was pointless "Look, with Alec and Brice gone Errol is the acting captain of the guards. Have you seen him? Very big, doesn't talk a lot. I told him everything I know and what you told me"

"What did he say?"

"He said 'we'll see' and then he left"

Nessa's brow furrowed "He'll help us?"

"I don't know. Maybe he's gone straight to the Queen and my head will be rolling later today. Maybe he's waiting to see how things play out"

Nessa was frowning at him as though he'd somehow failed to follow Tyrion's vague orders. It wasn't his fault they had so little to work with. When Nessa had visited him this morning she'd practically demanded he get out of his sickbed and follows the instructions in a letter she'd supposedly received from Tyrion. It didn't help that Lyle couldn't read and was wholly dependent on Nessa telling him what to do.

"Tyrion wants me to do what?" Lyle had asked

Nessa had rolled her eyes impatiently "He said he's coming back with friends and the Queen can't know. You need to get the guards to not tell her about any movements towards Winterfell"

Easier said than done. If the Winterfell guards failed to report troop movements to the Queen they would all be guilty of treason. But the other part of Tyrion's letter insisted it was for the best.

'The Queen will trade herself for the people unless the North reaches Winterfell unseen'

The sentence was wordier than the rest of the letter and Nessa had struggled slightly to read it, but Lyle knew the deliberate vagueness was to obscure the meaning to Nessa. Lyle, on the other hand, knew exactly what it meant. He'd been told of the plan to move Tyrion and Arya south, but he'd assumed it was to keep them away from whatever battle came. The letter hinted at a darker game - where the Queen would sacrifice herself to Robin to try and prevent a war. That couldn't be allowed to happen. He'd seen what Robin Flint had done to Tyrion in the Wolfswood - he couldn't be allowed to be King.

Lyle crouched down, ignoring the pull in his injured side until he was eye-level with Nessa "You know we're going against the Queen's orders right?"

"They're Tyrion's orders"

"Yes, but the Queen outranks him" he said gently "I'm happy to do all of this alone. Tyrion won't mind if you keep some distance from this plan"

The girl shook her head furiously "No. Tyrion trusts me to do this and I will"

"Alright" said Lyle "just promise you'll be careful"

Nessa smiled "No one will know I'm doing it"

Lyle wished he could share her optimism. His role to rally the guards was difficult enough but Nessa's was even more dangerous. As willing as he was to try and do it himself Lyle couldn't deny Nessa was better placed for the task, and that was probably why Tyrion had asked it of her. That Tyrion was awake and writing letters was worrying, but the fact he was asking them to commit treason told Lyle all he needed to know about how dire the situation was.

The sound of a dagger hitting the ground was unmistakable to Arya, and her head snapped up at the noise to see Tyrion clutching at his left hand while the dagger Bronn had given him lay at his feet. Pain flickered across his face as he rubbed his cramping hand, with his eyes automatically searching for someone who wasn't there. He couldn't see Arya from his position near the front of the ship, but she could see him - and the sadness he was struggling to hide.

There was nothing new in Tyrion's hand cramping. It was becoming less frequent as he regained mobility but every now and then it would happen, often causing him to drop whatever he was holding at the time - in this case his dagger. As soon as it happened Tyrion had sought out the person who usually comforted him, before reality caught up to him and reminded him Sansa wasn't here. She would be fussing over him if she was; checking he was ok and probably rubbing his hand. The thought made Arya roll her eyes. Of course the balance worked for Sansa and Tyrion. Her sister liked to give affection and was naturally inclined to smother those she loved, and Tyrion needed the regular reminders that he was loved and cared for.

Arya stepped back from her place in the shadows of the cabin and up a couple of steps to where Brice was steering the ship. As much as she wanted to help Tyrion she was all too aware there was nothing she could do. Tyrion was taking Sansa's absence horribly, no matter how much he tried to hide it, and Arya could only imagine her sister was in a similar state. Not that she had any sympathy for her sister. This whole situation was her bloody fault, and once again Tyrion was suffering because of Sansa's decisions.

"Is he any better?" asked Brice

"What do you think?"

The large man sighed "Poor sod"

"I'll assume he's still not talking to any of you"

"Sort of. He answers questions and that, but he don't say much else"

Arya's eyes drifted across the ship to Tyrion, who was now stroking Lyon as he kept watch on the river. Realistically there was very little he could do to help them steer the ship. Cley had given them the quickest, least conspicuous ship he had but the five of them were still struggling to sail it. Alec and Brice were shouldering most of the burden for sailing the ship with her and Cayn helping where possible. Tyrion had taken to keeping watch for any obstacles in their path but it was mostly to keep him busy. Arya could hardly stomach the hurt hiding in his eyes and the mood he was in worried her to no end. It had taken a hell of a lot of work to build Tyrion up after the Wolfswood, and seeing him now was like watching the progress crumble away before it had a chance to set in.

"I can't wait to see Sansa again" said Arya, gritting her teeth

Brice snorted "I wouldn't want to be the Queen"

"No, you wouldn't"

"It was hard for her ya know" said Brice "I never thought I'd see the Queen cry. She had Tyrion in her arms and I didn't think she'd let go in the end - I hoped she wouldn't"

"But she did, and now we're sailing to White Harbour to save Sansa from her own stupidity"

"Can't be easy choices to make" said Brice "If the Queen called the banners some would be accusing her of putting the crown before the people"

"People complain about anything - what's your point? Sansa's supposed to be a Queen, not a martyr. Letting Robin be King isn't in anyone's best interests"

"You know what I think?"

"I suppose you'll tell me"

Brice hummed thoughtfully "I think the Queen felt trapped and made the only choice she thought she could. I think it was a bloody stupid plan, but it was guided by the right things"

"Protecting the North"

"Aye. Love for the North, its people and family" he said, nodding towards the front of the ship "and love for him"

Arya's throat tightened "Sansa forgets there are people who care about her too"

"How many days?" asked Sansa

"Until Robin reaches Winterfell? About a week your Grace" said Wolkan

The Queen nodded, gazing across the courtyard from her place on the battlements. A letter outlining her terms of surrender had been sent to the Dreadfort early this morning. The men holding the castle would ride for the Kings Road to intercept Robin when he was still a few days from Winterfell. If all went to plan he would accept her terms and there would be a smooth transition of power. The Unsullied and sellswords would be paid off and sent away, and the North would be safe.

'If he doesn't?' whispered Littlefinger 'Fight every battle everywhere always in your mind...'

Sansa's chest constricted until she could barely breathe. She'd thought through every sequence of events and this was the best she could hope for, but it was also beyond her control. If Robin refused her surrender and attacked Winterfell there would be a slaughter because she hadn't called her banners to fight. But if she called her banners they could turn their cloaks to Robin and there would be a slaughter anyway. It was a losing battle whichever way she looked at it. The best she could hope for was minimising the damage to only herself. Besides, it was too late to change her mind now. She'd gambled everything on this course of action.

No, this would work. Robin didn't want war, he wanted to be King - a clean path to the crown would satisfy him. Still, contingency plans would need to be made.

"If Robin doesn't accept the surrender Winterfell and the surrounding villages need to be evacuated" she said

"Your Grace, Winterfell can withstand siege" said Wolkan, his eyes widening "If Robin refuses Winterfell can hold until reinforcements arrive. Lord Cerwyn is only a days' ride from here"

"There will be no reinforcements or battle" said Sansa "House Cerwyn alone can't defeat Robin's army and Winterfell will not be placed under siege. Speak to Errol and plan for the possibility we'll need to evacuate the villages. If it comes to that everyone will be sent to Castle Cerwyn for shelter and I'll write to Cley informing him. Winterfell is the seat of power in the North - when Robin takes it he'll have no reason to attack anyone else"

The old man's face was full of sadness "You are not thinking clearly my Queen. Please, allow logic to guide you rather than fear-"

"I'm not afraid Maester" she cut him off "I have nothing left to lose"

"There is your life your Grace. Many consider it to be quite valuable"

Sansa's throat tightened as she spoke "I am fortunate that people think so. But my life matters no more than anyone else's"

The old Maester sighed, shuffling away from her "As you say my Queen. I will make the necessary arrangements with Errol"

The Winterfell courtyard bustled with life below her, and a cynical part of Sansa wondered how much longer it would last. Each day Robin drew nearer and the noose around her neck tightened. After they reclaimed Winterfell Sansa had dreamed of the day it would be full of life once more, and for a while it had. Not anymore. The Winterfell household went about their duties as they always did, and to an outsider nothing had changed - but Sansa could see the cracks. Tyrion's absence had left unease hanging over the castle that dampened every mood, but none more so than her own.

'I miss you' she thought, heat stinging the back of her eyes 'This will be over soon and it's for the best - I couldn't carry on without you my love'

It had only been a matter of time. The ship was small and the days were stretching on endlessly as they neared White Harbour. Sooner or later Alec would have cornered him. Tyrion's heart sank as a hand clapped his shoulder and Alec leaned over the railings beside him.

"Not far to go now" said Alec "another half a day I'd say, but it's likely lord Manderly's men will see our ship before that"

"They'll be rather surprised at the occupants"

"No doubt"

Tyrion cast a quick glance behind him, seeing only Brice at the sail and no sign of Arya or Cayn. It was unusual. Cayn had spent their days of travelling following him like a lost puppy and Arya was usually lurking somewhere. Grudgingly Tyrion accepted this was a trap. The three guards had made multiple attempts to speak with him but Tyrion found he had very little patience for it. That it was just him and Alec at the front of the ship told him this had been pre-arranged - even Lyon was having a nap on the sunny side of the deck.

"Go on then" said Tyrion, slumping forwards against the railings "You've made certain we're alone. Say what you will"

"I did make sure we were alone, but it was for you to talk"

"What do you want to talk about? I've no desire to go through my plan until I've spoken to lord Manderly"

Alec shook his head "That's not what I meant. Come on Tyrion, you've barely spoken to us for days. We're your friends - you can talk to us"

"No. Thank you for the offer"

"It's not an offer. I haven't seen you this detached since we left Kings Landing"

"Apologies, I will try and be more cheerful" said Tyrion, annoyance flickering through him "though it is rather difficult when your wife puts you to sleep and tries to evict you to another kingdom!"

The words snapped from Tyrion before he had a chance to stop them, and carried for more bitterness than he'd thought possible. Alec didn't seem at all surprised, merely lifting an eyebrow.

"The Queen thought she was doing the right thing" he said

"Yes, and you agreed with her. Are we finished talking now?"

"I didn't agree Tyrion. I told her several times it was a bad idea and you wouldn't want to be protected like that. She wouldn't be swayed - keeping you safe mattered the most to her"

Tyrion narrowed his eyes at the other man "If you think you can convince me to go south-"

"How bloody stupid do you think I am?" shot back Alec "You've met my wife Tyrion - if I was in your place I'd be doing the same thing. Nothing would stop me getting back to her, and I'm not going to stop you either"

"You and the others were perfectly willing to take me south though. If not for Arya waking I would have woken to find my wife dead, my home lost to a vicious bastard and been an unwanted exile yet again!" he said, adding darkly "Not that exile would have lasted long"

It wouldn't have. If Tyrion had woken when it was too late, Sansa's efforts to save him would have been wasted - he'd have thrown everything he had into reaching Winterfell and killing Robin or died in the attempt. Either way life wouldn't have lasted long. No matter what Sansa wanted for him in her letter Tyrion knew there would be no starting over again. His banishment North was the last chance he was willing to give himself and he would not run from death again.

Alec tilted his head, considering his words carefully "None of us wanted to do it, but it was the Queen's orders and her word outranks yours. If I'd refused she'd have only found other guards who would, but the Queen isn't particularly trusting so I don't know who she'd have chosen"

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Someone had to do it, so why not you. It's not as if you were being asked to betray your friend"

Hurt bubbled through Tyrion at his own words, catching him by surprise. Rationally he knew Alec had been left little choice - the Queen's word was final. Despite understanding that the sense of betrayal wasn't so easy to shake off.

"I'm sorry Tyrion. Really I am. Whatever you think of me and Brice and Cayn we are your friends"

"Until someone else comes along with more gold, more power or whatever else it takes. I understand how the world works, I learned a long time ago"

"You had nothing when you came North" said Alec softly "we didn't befriend you because of your name or status. We befriended you because you were a lonely sod and we quite liked you. I don't know how things work between highborn, but for the rest of us we don't think like that"

Tyrion gripped the railing, tightening his fingers around it. He was being unfair and Alec was right. The guards had been nothing but kind to him since he was exiled, and their treatment of him hadn't changed when he became lord of Winterfell. They'd followed Sansa's orders because she was Queen, not because they no longer cared for him.

"Forgive me" murmured Tyrion "You and the others have been loyal friends, and I fear past experience makes me rather cynical of such things. I've been betrayed more times than I can count"

A twinge travelled along the scar running down his chest and across his ribs. A gift from a man he'd once considered a friend. Grey Worm had turned on him as soon as Daenerys fell, and if Jon Snow hadn't killed her Tyrion doubted the Unsullied captain would have tried to intervene with his execution. Grey Worm would have watched on as Drogon incinerated him, as he watched on as Varys was executed.

Alec nudged his arm, pulling him from the past and his mistakes back to the present "We understand Tyrion. If anyone tried to keep me from my wife I'd feel the same. I didn't arrange this talk to try and win your forgiveness either - none of us expects you to just get over this. Just, try and remember we are your friends and we'll follow your lead. The Queen isn't here, and the lord of Winterfell's word now rules in her absence"

"A terrifying thought" said Tyrion

"You have a plan, and any help I can offer is yours"

Tyrion's mouth turned downwards "When I became a man my father put me in charge of the sewers at Casterly Rock"

"Aye, and now you're in charge of the North"

"Unless the Queen discovers what we're doing"

Alec shook his head, straightening up "I don't think so. Lord Cerwyn is already setting things in motion isn't he? By the time we reach White Harbour it'll be too late to stop most of it"

"Yes, but unless the rest of the North rises it will be a bloody, wasted battle - exactly what Sansa wanted to avoid"

"You're the lord of Winterfell and all the houses hold fealty to you. They have to answer your call"

"For any other lord of Winterfell I'm sure they would"

"No-one cares you're a Lannister half as much as you do" said Alec, offering him a smile "and the Northerners hate a pretender. Robin Flint pretending to be King with an army bought by gold from slavers and Unsullied won't win him any support"

Alec was quite right. Tyrion knew that, as did Arya and Brice and Cayn. The rest of the North surely knew it. So why didn't Sansa? Talking with Alec had released some of the tension in his chest, but it only brought his fears for Sansa closer to the surface. How had he not seen how scared Sansa was by the threat of Robin? He was her husband - he should have helped her. Every action she'd taken to combat Robin and his army was utterly devoid of the calm logic she usually used and instead guided by pure emotion. Tyrion doubted Sansa was even aware of it. He'd become particularly attuned to Sansa and the walls of ice she used to protect herself. Whenever she retreated behind them any action could be reasoned away as necessary. It was ironic; the same mechanism that had been used to bring him North and bind them together in marriage was now being used in the name of protecting him. Sansa's walls of ice had broken after the Wolfswood. Every now and then he would catch Sansa slipping behind her old shield when she was stressed or worried and he knew how to draw her back out. Only now there was no one to draw her back out and Sansa was allowing a deeply flawed defence mechanism to guide her actions. The thought made him physically sick.

"I wish I was with her" whispered Tyrion "she must be so afraid and alone"

"Maester Wolkan is there" said Alec, sympathy twisting his face "he'll do his best to look after her"

It wasn't the same. He should be by his wife's side, helping her navigate the problem of Robin and making sure her fears did not take hold of her. It should never have come to this; Sansa alone in Winterfell with the enemy approaching and him drifting down the river hoping to find allies in White Harbour.

'Soon my dear wife' he thought 'I'll be back soon, just be brave a little longer'

Weariness dogged the Maester's every step as he shuffled towards his rooms, keeping his head down in the hope of avoiding any servants or guards. As Robin approached Winterfell it was growing increasingly difficult to maintain a neutral face. He was the only one who knew what the Queen intended to do, though Errol - the acting Winterfell captain - had been told to prepare to evacuate the castle and villages if needed. The Winterfell household all knew the enemy was getting closer but the lack of preparations was putting them on edge. Surely they should be preparing for a siege, if not open battle? The head cook had pulled him aside only yesterday to ask him if she should be rationing the food and Wolkan found himself in the awkward position of reassuring the woman the Queen had a plan.

He restrained himself from telling the cook just how foolish the plan was however. No matter what he tried the Queen was immovable and time was rapidly running out to change her mind. She simply wasn't thinking clearly. Years of trauma as she'd experienced could not be set aside by force of will; sooner or later it would escape and poison every decision she made and Robin's rebellion had proven the breaking point.

The old man rubbed a hand over his face, sighing tiredly. He should have been more insistent in aiding the Queen, or brought his concerns to lord Tyrion. It was easier to accept that Sansa Stark had recovered from the horrors of her past than confront the possibility she was still being victimised by it, and the Queen's icy façade had a way of making her seem unapproachable. Her developing closeness to lord Tyrion had made her happier than Wolkan had ever seen, but as soon as he was gone the cracks in the Queen's defences had shown clearer than ever and exposed her flawed logic for what it was. The situation was too far gone now.

The meeting had finished earlier than expected and for once he was grateful. The only thing worse than the burden of knowing the Queen's plan was seeing her falling deeper into grief over the loss of her family. Just this morning he'd given her a potion to settle her stomach after she woke vomiting. She hadn't needed to tell him she was suffering nightmares; the truth was written in every line on her face.

His hand closed around the door handle and Wolkan stepped quickly into his chambers, grateful for the sanctuary. He'd taken only a few steps before he froze.

"Nessa, what are you doing?"

The girl had frozen too. A stack of letters was clutched in one hand as she stood beside the hearth, and Wolkan's eyes quickly found the edge of a letter already burning in the fire. He closed the door, moving towards Nessa who watched him with wide, frightened eyes.

"Why are you burning letters?" he asked softly

"I have to"

His brow furrowed "And why is that?"

"Got orders…"

"Whose orders?"

Nessa bit her lip, clutching the stack of letters to her chest. It was then he realized what the letters were. They were to be sent to every Northern house in the next few days informing them of the Queen's decision to surrender to Robin and explaining why she had done so. It had taken days to write them, and the Queen had signed them all only yesterday. There were other notes there too. Not that he had written, but ones addressed to Winterfell and the Queen. It didn't make sense. Why would Nessa burn letters? She was clever enough to know it was treason and she would get in serious trouble. Unless…

"Who asked you to do this Nessa?" he tried again

Brown eyes stared back at him, refusing to answer. It didn't matter, he may be old but he wasn't stupid and Nessa was loyal to one person above all others. A hundred questions swirled through his mind, but he settled on the one of most importance.

"How did lord Tyrion contact you?"

The girl swallowed thickly "Got a letter…"

The Maester studied the girl for a moment, his gaze moving from her determined face to the letters clutched in her hand. Nessa was not a liar, if she claimed she'd had word from lord Tyrion it was undoubtedly true. Yet what he'd asked of her was treason.

Wolkan held out his hand "Give me the letters please"

Nessa hesitated, her eyes flicking between him and the hearth "But Tyrion…"

"It is treason" he said softly, warning her to not do anything rash

Reluctantly Nessa handed him the letters, shame rippling across her face at her failure to complete lord Tyrion's orders. Maester Wolkan glanced at the thick pile in his hands. The letter with Sansa's terms of surrender had already been sent to the Dreadfort, but these letters would be sent across the North in the coming days.

He tossed the letters onto the hearth.

Nessa's eyes widened as the flames eagerly claimed the pile.

Maester Wolkan sighed, his chain feeling heavier than ever around his neck as he turned to the girl.

"Do you still have lord Tyrion's letter? If we are to follow his lead its best we know his plan"

White Harbour was a strange place. Compared to the rural villages and castles spread across the North the port city of White Harbour seemed oddly out of place - as if someone had taken a southern city and left it in the North. It was also busy. Crowds bustled around the cobbled streets in the distance as they made their way off the ship, which a number of Manderly men had quickly taken charge of. Getting into the port might have been a problem but whatever else lord Manderly was, he was not a fool and had a number of guard boats patrolling the river for any unexpected visitors. Having travelled down the White Knife River they'd been spotted quickly and a guard boat sent out to stop their approach.

After taking care to hide his identity on the journey here Tyrion had only needed to pull his hood down for the guards to recognise him. How many golden-haired dwarfs could there be in the North? Things had progressed quite quickly after that, and their ship had been led into port where a hastily assembled welcoming party was waiting on the docks.

"Lord Lannister, welcome to White Harbour" greeted an old man, wearing armour emblazoned with the merman of house Manderly. Six other men accompanied him, and all bowed their heads respectfully "I am Ser Hugh, the captain of lord Manderly's guard. You and your companions are most welcome here"

"Thank you" said Tyrion, inclining his head. While he was easy to identify, Arya was less so - not that it would bother her. She preferred sticking to the shadows and Tyrion knew she would do so until she had a reason not to.

"Word of your arrival has been sent to lord Manderly, though I dare say your visit has caught him by surprise m'lord" said the guard

"Yes, it surprises me too" said Tyrion

"My men will see your belongings into the castle, and chambers are being prepared for all of you. Might I ask if the Queen travels with you?"

Tyrion smiled thinly. Lord Manderly worked quickly - in the time it had taken them to dock he'd prepped his captain on what questions to ask.

"I fear she does not" said Tyrion, stepping past the guard and along the dock "nor do we have anything but our good selves with us. Though if your men fancy a challenge I'm sure Lyon wouldn't say no to being carried"

The guards took several steps back as the golden wolf bounded to his side, eyeing the men as if sizing up a suitable carrier.

"This place is huge" said Cayn, his eyes widening in wonder as they moved towards the city

"You've never been here before?" asked Tyrion

Cayn shook his head "No. When we went south with Queen Sansa we went on the Kings Road"

"I've not been here for years" said Brice

"Me neither" said Alec "hasn't changed much from what I remember"

The two men set about pointing out various places to Cayn as Arya fell in beside Tyrion and Lyon. Houses of whitewashed stone filled the landscape as they moved from the port and into the city. The streets were wide and Tyrion's first impression of the city was its cleanliness - certainly when compared to the filth of Kings Landing.

"That's the Wolf's Den" said Ser Hugh, gesturing towards an ancient fortress sat by the water that adjoined the city walls

"Quite the sight" said Tyrion

"It's a prison m'lord" said Ser Hugh, leading them towards a broad white stone way beside it

"It's unusual to come across a prison I haven't been held in" said Tyrion

Ser Hugh laughed "I wouldn't worry on that count m'lord. Lord Manderly is waiting to receive you in the Merman's court"

"That is a relief" said Tyrion

Ser Hugh had quickly picked up that Tyrion hadn't been to White Harbour before and the old Knight pointed out several locations as they made their way up the steps of Castle Stair towards New Castle - the seat of House Manderly. New Castle was made of whitewashed stone like the rest of the city but towered above it from its position on top of a hill.

Cayn was quite captivated by the city and Brice was struggling to pull him along as Alec struck up a conversation with a Manderly guard. Lyon was thoroughly enjoying himself as he trotted up the steps. The people of Winterfell were quite used to him but not the people of White Harbour. People along the streets were stopping to stare as they went past leaving Tyrion feeling oddly exposed. There was no point in hiding his identity anymore. Word would spread quickly through the city that the lord of Winterfell was here, and the best Tyrion could hope for was that word wouldn't reach Winterfell before they did. If all was going to plan Nessa would be watching for any issues there - a dangerous task, but one only she could do. Sansa couldn't learn what was happening and any messages alerting her to that had to be destroyed.

"Are you alright?" asked Tyrion, turning to Arya who'd been oddly quiet beside him

"Fine" she said "just thinking about last time I was here"

"When was that?"

"A long time ago" she said, her grey eyes strangely distant "with a different lord of Winterfell"

They reached the top of Castle Stair and Tyrion took a moment to take in the sights of the city as Ser Hugh spoke to the gate guards, no doubt relaying that the Queen wasn't with them. White Harbour was quite a beautiful place. He could almost imagine it on a spring day with a gentle breeze and sunlight brightening up the white washed buildings. The markets bustled with life below them and for a moment Tyrion allowed himself to imagine walking through the streets with Sansa. They would visit the markets and watch the boats coming and going in the harbour. The city must be full of places to explore. They'd talk and laugh; enjoying each other's company without having to worry about duty and politics. At the end of the day they'd find somewhere beautiful and private for dinner. Sansa would like that - he could almost see the smile on her face and feel the warmth of her gaze...

"Lord Manderly is ready m'lord" said Ser Hugh, tearing Tyrion from his fantasy and back to the cold sting of reality.

Maybe, one day, they could come to White Harbour. If he made it back to Winterfell in time, if they defeated Robin - if Sansa still wanted him. Pain ripped through his heart at the last thought. There were too many possible scenarios and considering them all would lead to nowhere positive. For now it was better to think of the one that mattered the most, and that was saving Sansa.

Ser Hugh and the guards led them through the gate and into New Castle. Banners bearing the merman sigil of Manderly decorated every wall as they made their way out of the cool Northern breeze. It was a richly decorated castle, making Winterfell appear poor in comparison. Where Winterfell was the heart of the North, White Harbour was the brain. As the North's primary trade port it was central to the Northern economy - even more so now the North was independent of the Six Kingdoms. Tyrion didn't trust lord Manderly, but there was no denying his importance on Sansa's council or his skills in running trade between the kingdoms. The man was excellent at logistics and if they had any hope of reaching Winterfell in time they needed his support.

"Through here m'lord" said Ser Hugh, stepping to the side as two guards opened the heavy doors that led into the Merman's court.

The walls, floor and ceiling were made of wooden planks with Manderly banners hanging around the hall, and decorations on the wall representing the various creatures of the sea. At the far end of the room was a large cushioned throne on a raised dais that made Sansa's throne look small. Sat atop the throne was lord Manderly himself - with lord Glover sat on a normal chair along from him.

"Lord Tyrion! Lady Arya!" greeted the lord of White Harbour "I must say I am surprised to see you. Nevertheless, the hospitality of New Castle is yours"

Tyrion wasted no time making his way further into the hall. Arya and Lyon followed him but Alec, Brice and Cayn stayed by the entrance. As he walked, Tyrion's eyes drifted over the Manderly guards lining the room. Unlike Ser Hugh and the men who had greeted them at the dock these guards carried tridents rather than the traditional spears and swords of the North. He stopped before the dais, nodding his head in respect to the lord of the castle. Wyman Manderly was smiling cheerfully, but his eyes betrayed him. If he thought this visit was merely to check he was following orders to unblock trade to Winterfell he was badly mistaken.

"I appreciate you seeing us so quickly my lord" said Tyrion "I fear there wasn't time to announce our presence"

"No problem at all" said lord Manderly "I am more than happy to receive the lord of Winterfell and the Queen's sister"

Arya's eyes had fallen on lord Glover, her tone full of warning "It's surprising to see you my lord. I thought you might have followed the Queen's suggestion to return to your own keep"

Lord Manderly cleared his throat "Yes, well, it was my suggestion actually that lord Glover came to White Harbour. I thought the freshness of the city might do him some good-"

"I couldn't face my wife" said lord Glover gruffly "that's what you mean Wyman. My son was a monster. You know it, they know it - the whole bloody North knows it, and I have to face my wife and daughter and tell them the so-called lies were all true"

While Arya was quite right that Sansa had told the lords to return to their own keeps Tyrion was beginning to understand why lord Manderly had thought better of allowing lord Glover to return to Deepwood Motte in such a state. The man looked to have aged years in the space of a few weeks. Gawan had been a monster, but he had been his son. Cersei had known well what Joffrey was, but Robett Glover had been oblivious. The image of the boy he'd raised and known had shattered to reveal a very different creature lurking below the surface. Tyrion swallowed thickly. The old lord had accepted his son's death, but Tyrion could scarcely imagine the prospect of having to tell his wife the truth of Gawan. Lady Glover had likely been just as devoted to her son's innocence as her husband, if not more so. Arya appeared to have picked up on the old lord's state as well for she made no further comment.

"Whatever the circumstances it is fortunate to find you both here" said Tyrion

"And why is that my lord?" asked lord Manderly, his eyes flicking from him and Arya to Alec and the guards at the back of the hall "You appear to have travelled lightly, and I dare say I never expected my men to find you sailing down the White Knife. A man of your station could have surely found a better ship than that thing you arrived in"

"Choices were limited given the circumstances" said Tyrion, straightening his back and looking between the two great lords. They could be the difference between success and failure.

"What circumstances would those be?" asked lord Manderly, lounging back on his throne

"Time is of the essence so I will be blunt with you my lords. Our Queen intends to surrender the North to Robin Flint, and as lord of Winterfell I am calling the banners to fight"

Such a dangerous game.

Maester Wolkan had written out a copy of the letter Nessa received from Tyrion - the girl wouldn't surrender her copy - and he'd read through it at least a dozen times. It was undoubtedly lord Tyrion who had written it. His hand was easily recognised in the original letter and the general tone was reminiscent of the countless letters he'd sent as lord of Winterfell.

Nessa,

I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly, but it was beyond my control. What I'm going to ask of you is unfair, but I'm certain it's the only way forwards and you are the only one who can do this.

Firstly, you must not tell anyone you have heard from me - especially Sansa. The Queen cannot know what is happening. Secondly, what I'm going to ask of you is treason. I'm not sure if you know what that means exactly, but if you do as I ask we are disobeying the Queen. Please understand - I wouldn't ask this of you if it wasn't important.

Assuming you will support me, this is what I need you to do:

Find Lyle. Tell him about the letter and read him the contents - he should understand what I ask of him. The Queen will trade herself for the people unless the North reaches Winterfell unseen. He must speak to the guards and get them on our side. I am returning to Winterfell with friends and the Queen cannot know. The guards must not report ally movements towards Winterfell.

The next part is where I ask too much of you Nessa. I cannot know for sure but the Queen will probably be writing letters to send across the North. Maester Wolkan will have them most likely. They cannot be sent. Any letters to Winterfell should also be destroyed if they mention the movements of my friends and I. Your skill at reading means you are the only one I can trust with this. Lyle will explain what to look for but as he cannot read it will come down to your judgement I'm afraid.

I should return in just over a week with friends. Until then, follow the Queen's orders as if nothing is amiss and do your best to follow my instructions. I needn't worry on that count - you always do your best.

Take care of yourself, and your family. Lyon says hello too.

Tyrion

The old Maester sighed, sinking back into his chair. Lord Tyrion had tried to keep the letter to simple words that Nessa would easily be able to read without assistance, but it was also apparent he didn't want the child to know every detail. Somehow Tyrion Lannister was awake and he had worked out what Sansa planned to do. The instructions were vague but charged with responsibility for Lyle and Nessa. If one of the servants had caught Nessa burning letters in his chambers it was more than likely the Queen would have become involved and while Wolkan knew Sansa would not harm the girl, lord Tyrion's plan would have unravelled one way or another.

Lord Tyrion was arriving with friends in just over a week - when Robin was due. The friends he spoke of could only be the houses of the North coming to fight Robin. It was exactly what the Queen didn't want to happen, and yet it was what needed to happen. Fear formed long ago held Sansa back from making the choice; she would rather sacrifice herself than risk betrayal. The Queen's word ruled. Nessa and Lyle had both committed treason - and he had too. Tossing the damnable letters onto the hearth had been the only fitting end for them. It went against the role of a Maester to undermine the Queen he served but it was also the only hope they had. If lord Tyrion could rally the North to Winterfell Robin could be defeated, he was sure of it.

Maester Wolkan folded the copied letter into a small square, tucking it deep within the draws of his desk out of sight. Nessa had been difficult to sway but in the end, she'd accepted his help would only benefit them. As Maester he oversaw all letters and could filter through them much more easily than Nessa, and with far less risk. It was odd to be defying the Queen, but as much as he respected Sansa Stark she wasn't thinking clearly. Come what may he'd decided his fate as soon as the letters fell into the flames.

He would assist Nessa and Lyle as much as he could, and hold out hope their actions would not be in vain. If lord Tyrion did not arrive in time the Queen would fall and they will have destroyed her plans for a smooth transition of power. The Northern houses would not know she had willingly sacrificed herself and her murder would spark a war rather than continue the peace.

When he'd been sent North the other Maesters had pitied him. Such a boring place, they'd said, filled with strange people who worship trees.

Oh, if only they knew. The North was harsh and often unforgiving, but it was never boring.

"I just don't understand it!" said lord Manderly, shrugging his wide shoulders

Arya bit her tongue once again as Tyrion launched into yet another explanation of what was happening. They'd been travelling for days, and sat in a meeting with lord Manderly and lord Glover for hours already. They'd gone straight from the Merman's court to a more private room, where Tyrion had tried to explain what was happening. If lord Manderly didn't understand it now he never would; though Arya thought his issue was more that he didn't want to believe the Queen could take such action without consulting him rather than not understanding it. Besides, Tyrion was using smaller words with each retelling. If he simplified it much more it would be a children's rhyme.

Personally, Arya thought Tyrion should have simply given his orders and gone to bed while lord Manderly and lord Glover actually did something for a change. After days of sleeping in shifts on a small ship, Arya was ready for a proper bed and undisturbed sleep. She loved her brother, but Tyrion's nightmares had gotten worse every time he slept and Arya was exhausted from trying to help him. She couldn't give him the comfort he needed, and they were both all too aware she wasn't Sansa. He apologised constantly for troubling her, despite Arya telling him there was nothing to apologise for. Usually, they'd sit in silence when she woke him, but sometimes Tyrion would talk a little about his childhood or whatever was lingering in his mind. As happy as she was to listen to Tyrion it was his wife he really wanted to talk to. The truth was lurking in his eyes every time she or Lyon woke him up.

"If Robin Flint is leading an army as you say, why wouldn't the Queen call on the support of our houses?" pondered lord Manderly, for what could have been the tenth time

"Gods be good Wyman, she doesn't trust us" snapped lord Glover, clearly as fed up of the farce as she was

"House Manderly has stood loyally by the Starks-"

"Aye, you've stood from a distance, just like my house" said lord Glover, rubbing tiredly at his face "when the Queen called on us to find lord Tyrion we did nothing. When she ordered the capture of Gawan and Robin we did nothing"

"Well, this is a very different situation. The future of the North is at stake" said lord Manderly

Arya narrowed her eyes at the lord of White Harbour "And that's more worthy of your help than rescuing the lord of Winterfell was?"

"No, of course I never meant-"

"Enough!" said Tyrion, his voice cutting through the air "I do not care what has already happened, or how highly my life ranks on your list of priorities. I care about saving our Queen, and making sure that vicious bastard Robin Flint gets nowhere near the throne of the North"

"You're asking us to call our banners and raise an army, despite what the Queen has decided" summarised lord Glover, studying Tyrion across the table

"No, I'm telling you to do so" said Tyrion, locking eyes with the old lord

Arya braced for an argument. Tyrion was well within his rights as lord of Winterfell, and she would ensure compliance. No-one would be allowed to discriminate against him because he was a Lannister. She was already preparing the appropriate threats when lord Glover nodded.

"Very well. I'll send a raven to Deepwood Motte at once. I assume you have a strategy in mind?" said Lord Glover

Tyrion's eyes widened at the old lord's easy agreement, but he quickly found his voice again "Yes. In fact parts of my plan are already in motion. Your experience of the North far outweighs my own - there are aspects of my strategy that I could use your opinion on"

"What of you lord Manderly?" asked Arya, halting the growing discussion "Will you be answering the call of your liege lord?"

All eyes turned to lord Manderly who paled considerably at their attention.

"Of course I will" said lord Manderly, his eyes narrowing indignantly "I am no oath-breaker, and house Manderly will not recognise Robin Flint as King"

"Nor will I" grunted lord Glover "he deserves the same fate as Gawan"

Bitterness tinged the old lord's tone leading Arya to believe that wasn't quite true. Robett Glover might have accepted his son was a monster, but he appeared to hold Robin responsible for it, at least in part. It wasn't hard to imagine lord Glover wished to deliver a far worse fate for Robin.

'If only he knew how Gawan really died' thought Arya 'Sansa told him we cut Gawan's throat, but not what we did before that. Would you think it was justice my lord? Would you torture Robin if given the chance?'

Arya would in a heartbeat, though she suspected lord Glover would not carry through on whatever dark thoughts hid behind his defeated face.

"Robin cannot be allowed to become King, on that we all agree" said Tyrion

"Why would the Queen ever think the North would accept that?" asked lord Manderly "She's spent weeks hunting him and yet she would surrender the crown of the North to him"

"It is not Robin that worries her, but the army he brings. He has recruited men from the villages, lord Locke has joined him and he has hired an army of sellswords from across the narrow sea"

"What are his numbers like?" asked lord Glover gruffly "That sounds more like a rabble than an army"

"I don't know how large his army is" admitted Tyrion "I fear the Queen withheld information from Arya and myself"

"I must say I am curious why the Queen tried to send you both south" said lord Manderly. It was only a matter of time before someone mentioned it.

"A misguided attempt to protect us" said Tyrion, meeting the man's gaze "She knew Arya and I would not agree to go so she took matters into her own hands"

"You could have made it safely south my lord, yet you're determined to fight for the North?"

Tyrion stiffened next to her "The North is my home as much as it is yours, and the Queen is my wife. I have a duty to protect both, and whatever you think of me I am not a coward"

"I suggest nothing of the sort my lord" said lord Manderly, holding up his hands "Please understand I am merely trying to understand the Queen's frame of mind and what we're up against. For the Queen to send away her husband and sister seems a rather extreme reaction to Robin and his rabble of an army"

Arya grimaced. Lord Manderly may appear hapless and unthreatening but there was a sharp mind hidden beneath it. White Harbour would not run so smoothly without his keen insight, and he'd quickly picked up there was more behind Sansa's reasoning.

"Alec told us Sansa received letters from Robin" said Arya; the lords would need to know sooner or later "I can only imagine they were similar to the disgusting threats they were sending to Tyrion. Apparently, Robin boasted about his army, and claimed an army of Unsullied had joined him"

The two old lords exchanged a look. They might not think much of the rest of Robin's army - sellswords were unreliable at best - but the Unsullied couldn't be dismissed so easily. They'd shown in Kings Landing they would follow orders regardless of morals and honour.

"That is concerning" said lord Manderly

"Shows how little the boy knows" said lord Glover "The North won't kneel to a green boy using outsiders and savages to fight for him"

"I quite agree my lords" said Tyrion "I fear Sansa's actions are driven by a desire to protect her people at the cost of her own life. She hopes her blood will prevent a war"

"And you want us to wage one anyway" said lord Manderly

"Her intentions are pure and place the safety of the North above all else. Yet I do not believe it is a fair trade. Robin has shown he has no honour and I doubt he would honour any agreement with Sansa" said Tyrion, sadness sweeping across his face

"We will certainly join you my lord" said lord Manderly "Sansa Stark is the Queen we chose"

"We'll crush the bastard and his so-called army - see how much he likes a taste of real battle" said lord Glover "tell us your plan lord Tyrion, and I will send word to Deepwood Motte"

"I am happy to my lords" said Tyrion, a hint of relief creeping into his face "The Queen would sacrifice herself for the North; it is past time the North showed it would sacrifice for its Queen"

"Where are the rest of you?" asked Robin

Grey Worm was stood still enough to be mistaken for a statue. There was something unsettling about the Unsullied. Their eyes were devoid of emotion and each looked like a copy of the other.

"They wait for your orders" said Grey Worm

"If you're with us why don't you march with us then?" snapped lord Locke from behind

Robin frowned at the lord's interruption. He was King; he didn't need the other man to undermine him.

"Better not" said Grey Worm his dark eyes flickering briefly to lord Locke "Northerners do not like Unsullied"

'Not completely dim-witted' thought Robin 'still dumb enough to be used though'

"Perhaps it's for the best then" said Robin "We will take Winterfell as a united force and I won't have conflict in my ranks. You and the rest of the Unsullied will arrive on time?"

"Yes. Unsullied not late. When you reach Winterfell we will join you"

"Very well" said Robin, nodding his head is dismissal

Grey Worm didn't move an inch, nor did the four Unsullied armed with spears who stood behind him.

"Is there something else?" asked Robin, all too aware of lord Locke's judgemental gaze on him

"Justice" said Grey Worm

Robin's mouth pulled into a smile "Of course. I haven't forgotten. When I take the crown you will have what was promised. The dwarf will be yours to exact justice as you see fit"

"Try not to make a mess of it this time" added lord Locke

Grey Worm's face tightened "Justice will be done"

"Good" said Robin, letting his eyes wander to the Unsullied captain's hand and the stumps where two of his fingers had once been "Do your part well and I might let you have the direwolf too"

Sansa was wrong. It wasn't Robin who would kill her, it was the water. She kicked up towards the surface but no matter how hard she tried she only seemed to sink further. Deeper and deeper she sank into the endless depths, her body getting colder as she went.

In desperation she opened her mouth, crying out towards the surface "Help me!"

The water didn't answer; it didn't do anything. All Sansa could do was sink into the darkness as the light of the surface grew further away.

"Please..." she begged. The water should have drowned her by now, yet there was no end to her suffering. Was this to be her punishment? Sansa glanced at her hands as she clawed helplessly at the water - they weren't red, but that didn't mean there wasn't blood on them. Gawan had deserved everything he got, but there hadn't been any honour in it. That was the difference between her and her father. Ned Stark had valued justice and honour in equal measure, yet both his daughters valued justice more.

Sansa kicked her legs, reaching towards the surface that seemed so far away. She might deserve this fate, but she didn't want it. Something changed on the surface. The light disappeared briefly, as something moved in front of it. When the surface was illuminated once more a lion was staring down at her. Bright green eyes met hers, framed by a shaggy mane as the lion's face rippled above the water.

She renewed her efforts to reach the surface. If she reached the lion she would be safe, she knew it. All of Sansa's struggling only hastened her descent, pulling her downwards and away from the lion on the surface. The creature made no move to help her, it merely watched on with sad eyes.

"Help!" she called again "Please help me..."

The lion's ears drooped, and to Sansa's horror it turned away from her. The last thing she saw was the lion leaving before the darkness of the water overwhelmed her...

Sansa woke with a start, a cold wind whipping at her face. Her chambers came into focus, as did the window that had blown open at the side of the room. The Queen's legs trembled beneath her as she hurried to close it. Wind and rain were battering at the open window, sending a chill through the room and leaving a puddle on the floor. The weather had been improving with the beginning of spring, but the last day or so it had taken a turn back towards winter. Sansa shut the window, taking care to fasten it closed as she should have before. She was a Northerner; she knew to take no chances with the windows at night in case the weather turned, particularly in spring. She'd just been so distracted. Focusing on anything was near impossible.

After double-checking the window Sansa returned to the armchair she'd taken to sleeping in. The image of her dream was horrible, turning her stomach into a rolling mess of nausea. She'd been helpless to escape her fate in the dream, just as was now. Robin would be here in days. It was likely her men would meet his tomorrow and present her terms for a peaceful exchange of power. Day by day death crept closer.

Something wet slipped down Sansa's cheek as she wrapped herself in Tyrion's blanket and settled into the armchair once again. Was there any point in trying to sleep? The end would be here soon enough. The horrors of her sleep offered one advantage at least; they were a brief respite from the crushing loneliness of Winterfell that haunted her during the day. No nightmare could compare to the living hell that had consumed her life.

Tyrion leaned against the balcony, gazing out across White Harbour. It was quite beautiful in the morning sun, though he feared much of its appeal was lost on him. As soon as they arrived yesterday Tyrion had got to the point of his visit. There simply wasn't a minute to spare. Lord glover and lord Manderly had quickly agreed to aid him, just as they would have if Sansa had asked them. The lords and ladies of the North might play at politics but they wouldn't tolerate Robin and his rebellion either. If Sansa had believed in the loyalty of the North they would already be at Winterfell, and ready to defeat Robin. Now it was a desperate race to get there in time. A feat lord Manderly promised him was possible.

"It will be very tight, but your plan is certainly workable my lord. Particularly given you've set things in motion with lord Cerwyn" lord Manderly had said "Telling lord Mazin to march here rather than Winterfell was quite the clever idea"

"It was the only way I could think of getting them to Winterfell in time" he'd said "they are too far away from the castle to risk a long march across the North"

Tyrion didn't believe for a second lord Manderly was pleased he'd had Cley write to lord Mazin and ask him to send his men to White Harbour, and in truth he didn't care. They needed the whole of the North to assemble at Winterfell, with house Reed being the only exception. They were simply too far away, and Bran had commented to Sansa while at Winterfell the Reed's supported her but were unlikely to aid her. Cley would make contact with lady Tallhart and lord Hornwood, as well as reaching out to lady Dustin of Barrowton. Of them all only house Dustin was in doubt. They would have the furthest to travel to Winterfell and Tyrion knew lady Dustin preferred to keep out of things. Approaching Winterfell would have to be done discreetly, but if Nessa and Lyle were successful it should be possible.

"You could have sent a letter"

Lord Glover's voice broke Tyrion from his thoughts as the old lord joined him on the balcony.

"I hoped to convince lord Manderly, and in turn he would write and convince you" said Tyrion, not bothering to hide the truth. Robett Glover wasn't the kind of man who appreciated false words.

"You're the lord of Winterfell" said lord Glover "My house is honour bound to serve you"

"Perhaps, but given the circumstances, I thought it better if lord Manderly wrote to you. Not that it's necessary now - your presence here has made things easier"

"I've sent my orders to Deepwood Motte and written to lord Dormund. They will be in place by the time we arrive"

"That is good to hear" said Tyrion, brushing his fingers over the rough stone of the balcony "though I will be happier when we are underway"

"As will I. The sooner Robin Flint's head rolls the better"

Tyrion cast a quick glance around them. It was only him and lord Glover on the balcony, a fact he found rather unnerving given how the man's son had died because of him. With nothing to do but wait for the ships to be ready and for lord Mazin to arrive lord Manderly was intent on showing off his hospitality. Both he and Arya had refused a feast last night in favour of getting some much-needed sleep. Lord Manderly would not be deterred and had insisted on hosting a grand breakfast and showing them the city this morning - things Tyrion was in no mood for without his wife.

"I don't blame you" said lord Glover "I tried to, but Gawan made his own choices. He had to pay the price of them"

Never had Tyrion felt more awkward. He fidgeted on the spot, searching for something to say. What could be said though? He was neither sorry for the man's loss nor did he sympathise. Gawan was a beast and he'd gotten what he deserved.

"You have a daughter" said Tyrion, after a moment

"Yes, and she is now the future of my house"

"House Glover is well respected. I'm certain there are minor houses that would agree to take her name and continue the line"

"Perhaps"

Seeing lord Glover in the morning sun only illuminated the toll Gawan's death had taken on him. The man's face was thin and his hair greyer than before. Tyrion wasn't sure why he felt the need to say it, but the words were on his tongue before he could give them a second thought.

"You were right - I was jealous of Gawan"

The old man's face tightened, but his eyes remained fixed on White Harbour below.

"Not for the obvious reasons, though I'm painfully aware of them" he continued "I was jealous for an entirely new reason. You came to Winterfell and refused to believe your son was guilty. You fought to the last to defend him, and I don't doubt at all you would have gone to war if he was executed and you still believed him innocent"

"Aye, as any father would"

"Not any father" said Tyrion. It had been years, but the memories still cut through him. The trial, the sentence and the crossbow bolt that made him a kinslayer "My father knew I didn't kill Joffrey, and he sentenced me to die anyway"

"You demanded trial by combat"

"I did. Cersei manipulated all the evidence to make me look guilty and my father let her. Only Jamie believed I was innocent. He made a deal with Father to try and help me. If I pleaded guilty I would be sent to the wall...but I couldn't do it. All I ever wanted was my father's approval, and all he wanted was my death"

Lord Glover's hand curled into a fist "If your boy is innocent you fight for him until he's free or you can't deny he's guilty"

"Indeed" said Tyrion, adding quietly "When you didn't believe me at Winterfell I couldn't understand it at first. No matter how much evidence was shown you believed your son's word above all others. Eventually I understood, and when I did I was jealous of Gawan"

Silence fell between them and Tyrion didn't dare look at lord Glover. It probably sounded ridiculous; a man of his age still bitter over his father's refusal to love him. Yet seeing lord Glover's fierce protectiveness over a beast-like Gawan had stirred a deep jealousy. Tyrion knew his own flaws better than anyone. Surely he was no worse than Gawan? If lord Glover could love his son so blindly; if Cersei could love Joffrey - why couldn't his father love him?

"The south's a cesspit" said lord Glover eventually "that's why men of honour don't survive there. We are far better off without them"

Tyrion just had time to register lord Glover had included him in the 'we' rather than the 'them' before a letter was pushed into his hands.

"This arrived for you this morning. I told Wyman I'd find you and deliver it" said lord Glover, turning back towards the castle "I'd suggest you humour him by the way. The Queen hasn't visited White Harbour since she was crowned and having you and lady Arya here is a chance for him to show off. The preparations to reach Winterfell will still be going ahead whether you eat breakfast or not"

The old lord didn't wait for him to answer before striding back into the warmth of the castle, leaving Tyrion alone on the balcony. Despite the cold morning breeze, Tyrion felt strangely warm. Acceptance was always unexpected but when it did occur its effects were stronger than any wine he'd ever had.

Turning his attention to the letter Tyrion's eyes fell on the three-eyed raven sigil.

Bran.

His hand trembled as he tore open the seal. Of course, the three-eyed raven would know he was at White Harbour. The real question was what else Bran knew. A hundred possibilities rushed through Tyrion's mind at what the letter could contain. News of Sansa, advice for what he should do, warnings about what lay ahead - the possibilities were endless.

Naturally, the letter contained nothing of the sort. Tyrion brushed a hand through his hair, swallowing down his disappointment.

You are not a servant.

Why bother sending a raven? Tyrion remembered the words - Bran had said them to his face just before he left Winterfell.

"The future of the North isn't yet decided and Sansa's decisions will shape much of it - but so will yours"

"The North is in safe hands then; Sansa is an excellent Queen and I'll do whatever she asks of me"

"You are not a servant. For a small man you will cast a very large shadow"

He turned the conversation over in his mind until he was satisfied there was no hidden meaning he had missed. Tyrion sighed, folding the letter away and tucking in his pocket to show Arya. He'd told Bran at the time he'd do whatever Sansa asked of him, but here he was assembling an army to defy her orders. The only meaning he could take from the letter was that Bran wanted to say 'I told you so' in an all-knowing way. It was right he supposed. Sansa was his Queen and his loyalty was always hers, but he was her husband too - and he would not blindly follow orders that put her in danger.

Stepping away from the balcony he headed back into New Castle. Lord Glover was right that there was nothing to do but wait, and after days of eating rations on a ship suffering through lord Manderly's breakfast feast was almost inviting.

The disgust in the other man's eyes was grating on Robin's nerves. The guards were looking at him as if he was a piece of shit they'd stepped on, rather than their King.

"This is what Sansa offers?" said Robin, lounging back in his chair and letting the letter drop onto the table before him.

"Those are the Queen's terms" ground out the lead guard.

There were ten others accompanying him, but not all were of Winterfell. A few wore the sigils of houses Cerwyn and Tallhart. That was to be expected - Sansa had sent an allied garrison to hold the Dreadfort weeks ago - his own men had reported the movements. Whatever sigil they wore these men were all united in their contempt for him.

Robin smiled cheerfully at the men "Very well. If you'll give me a few minutes to discuss with my advisors I will have a response for you to return"

The lead guard's mouth curled in distaste, but he nodded anyway. The guards left the tent, leaving Robin alone with lord Locke and the captain of the Iron Shields.

Iggo tilted back in his chair, jamming his foot against the table as he balanced on the back legs. The man had long black hair and at first glance reminded Robin of the Dothraki who had fought with Daenerys Targaryen, but that was where the similarities ended. He wore baggy breeches and a shirt that might have once been white but had long since faded to a dirty grey. A leather jerkin hung open over the top with a heavy cloak draped over that. While Robin doubted Iggo was the man's real name he had no desire to ask too many questions. The gold from Grey Worm had been just enough to secure the services of the Iron Shields and tempt them to sail to Westeros. With the destruction of the Golden Company rival sellsword groups were keen to make a name for themselves - and removing the Westerosi Queen in the North would bolster the Iron Shields reputation in Essos.

"Go on your Grace, tell us what Sansa Stark demands of you?" said Iggo, humour glinting in his eyes that Robin knew not to trust. Just yesterday he'd watched the man cut the throat of one of his own over an insult.

"No-one makes demands of a King" said Robin

"Yet this woman does" said Iggo

"What does she want then?" asked lord Locke

Robin's mouth pulled into a smirk "She knows she's lost - she's offering me the crown"

"For what?" asked lord Locke "Sansa Stark is a devious creature. I doubt she's offering it to you for free"

"She wants to avoid battle" said Robin "If I agree to spare every life but hers she'll surrender her crown and no one will oppose my rule"

"What else?" said lord Locke snatching up the letter before Robin could stop him "Hmm. You will immediately disband your army, and rid the North of sellswords and Unsullied. All members of the Winterfell household will be spared as will the small-folk"

"Not demanding at all" snorted Iggo

"She says 'no blood other than my own need be spilt. The people of the North must always come before the ruler, and peace should be preserved at all costs'. Typical bloody Stark" said lord Locke "knows better than everyone else. Her brother Robb was the same"

"I'm glad we're in agreement lord Locke" said Robin "Sansa knows she's lost and now she wants to become a martyr - it's pathetic"

Iggo dropped his feet from the table, tilting forwards on his chair "That is reassuring to hear your Grace. I would hate to think my men and I sailed here for nothing. Surely this woman has an army lying in wait, ready to pounce as soon as you agree"

At that Robin's mouth turned upwards. The scout's report had only just arrived before this meeting, and it exposed the truth of Sansa's position.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that" said Robin "There have been no troop movements near Winterfell - no sign at all that she has anyone but the Winterfell guards with her"

Lord Locke's mouth fell open as Iggo laughed.

"You can't be serious" said the lord

Robin nodded "I have scouts watching the Kings Road near Winterfell and there's been no sign of any allies approaching. She's alone"

"She believes you'll accept her offer" said Iggo

"It would weaken your position" warned lord Locke "the North respects power. Take her offer and you'll be a weak King who was given the throne"

"There is no chance of that" said Robin, taking the letter back from lord Locke "I'll make certain Sansa understands when I send my reply"

Personally, Arya had been impressed with herself when she wrote to Bran asking for advice. The girl she'd been a few years ago would have never set aside her grudge, no matter what the reason. It was times like this Arya missed that girl - she would have been furious rather than resigned upon reading the letter Tyrion had shown her.

"One sentence?" she said in disbelief

"He's not one for pleasantries. It's almost refreshing"

"If it wasn't so annoying" grumbled Arya, tossing the message onto her bed.

'You are not a servant'

What kind of message was that? Bran hadn't even bothered replying to her, he'd just sent Tyrion some random message.

Tyrion sighed, sinking into one of the armchairs that decorated the spacious room. Everything about White Harbour was big and spacious as if it had been designed to personally accommodate lord Manderly. Tyrion looked like a child sitting in the oversized chair.

"Did you eat enough breakfast?" asked Arya, reluctantly dropping into the opposite armchair

"Enough for three of me. Lord Manderly was rather keen to give us a feast"

Arya shook her head in despair "And because we turned him down last night he serves a seven-course breakfast instead"

"Cayn and Lyon quite enjoyed themselves"

"Can't believe they ate all seven courses, or that lord Manderly gave Lyon his own plate"

"I dare say he'll be demanding the same when we..."

Tyrion trailed off, uncertainty flickering over his face.

"When we get home" finished Arya, leaving no room for argument "I think he should eat off Sansa's plate for at least a month"

He smiled, but Arya could tell it was forced. As the days wore on Tyrion's insecurities had begun to come to the surface. His overwhelming desire to reach Winterfell and save Sansa hadn't wavered, but Arya suspected he was doubting if his presence would still be welcome. It was irrational. Arya didn't doubt at all Sansa missed Tyrion and wanted him home, but Tyrion was beginning to doubt that and the blame for that rested squarely on her sister's shoulders. More than once she'd seen her brother reading the letter Sansa had given him - he kept the damned thing in his pocket. Nothing Arya could say would help Tyrion, but she wouldn't let him dwell on his negative thoughts either.

"Alright, let's hear it" said Arya

"Hear what?"

"I told you all my theories for who you wrote to at Castle Cerwyn and you still won't tell me. Even to lord Glover and lord Manderly you only called them 'a trusted ally'. I need to know"

"You're highly intelligent, I'm surprised you haven't figured it out"

Arya groaned, realising Tyrion wouldn't make it a simple answer "You've not written to any allies in the south. They're too far away to help us"

"Correct"

"Cley is writing to the other Northern houses on your behalf, so it isn't them either"

"Quite right"

"You've sent the letter to someone at Winterfell but I can't work out who or why. Maester Wolkan would be the obvious choice, but he's too close to Sansa. It's possible he would tell her about any letters from you"

Tyrion's mouth curved into a smile "You're right again"

"Confess Lannister. Trying to figure this out wore down all my patience on the ship"

"Very well" said Tyrion, rolling his eyes "I wrote to Nessa"

"Nessa? A child is your trusted ally?"

"Quite so. I actually wrote two letters. The one for Nessa was enclosed in one for Esther asking her to deliver it. As a seamstress, Esther will get plenty of messages, but one addressed to Nessa would arouse suspicion. I would have accepted either name as the correct answer by the way"

Arya ground her teeth, annoyed at herself for forgetting the small folk Tyrion was friends with. Most couldn't read, but Esther and Nessa could.

"What did you ask Nessa to do?"

"Too much I fear, but the situation is rather desperate. I've asked Nessa to destroy any letters the Queen intends to send or any she receives that mention our allies movement. They'll be avoiding the Kings Road but it would only take one man to report the sighting of troops and alert Sansa. I gave instructions for Lyle too - he is to convince the guards to ignore ally movements and alert them we are coming"

"Tyrion...it's a good idea in theory"

He held up a hand "I'm well aware it's a risk, but given the stakes it had to be worth a try. Besides, it's too late to stop things now"

Arya nodded, accepting it as part of Tyrion's plan no matter how much she thought it was doomed to fail. If nothing else it gave them a chance. The last thing they needed was Sansa discovering what they were doing and interfering.

"Are you excited for lord Manderly's tour of the city?" asked Arya, deciding a change of subject was in order

"Not really. White Harbour would be fascinating in normal circumstances, but I fear I have little interest in touring it at present"

"Maybe it won't be so bad" offered Arya. Maybe it would pull Tyrion's mind from dark thoughts.

"Perhaps"

"At least lord Manderly is getting us new clothes"

"Naturally. White Harbour is such a clean city and we're so very filthy"

"It's probably for the best. Don't want the enemy to smell us before we arrive"

Tyrion's eyes brightened as they carried on mocking themselves, lord Manderly and White Harbour. As they spoke Arya's mind drifted to the letter Sansa had written to her. After ignoring it for nearly a week she'd read it just before they arrived in White Harbour.

Arya,

I'm sorry. I know it won't mean anything to you, but I did this because I love you and it was the only way to protect our family.

You won't want to hear from me so I'll keep this short. By the time you read this the North will be lost, and it won't be safe for you and Tyrion. Wherever you go next I know you'll be fine and I've no right to ask anything of you, but please; look after Tyrion.

Whatever happens to me he's our family, and I know he'll be devastated by what I've done.

I'm sorry little sister. Please understand this was all for the best. Family, Duty, Honour.

Love

Sansa

Reading the letter had annoyed her just as much as she'd expected it to. As if she needed a reminder Tyrion was family, or that looking after him was even a question. Other than Sansa's vague assurances this was all for the best the letter had contained nothing of importance.

Arya slumped back in her chair, nodding along as Tyrion launched into a story about a jackass and a honeycomb in a brothel.

He was her brother now, and he always would be - but it was Sansa he needed, not her. Despite her reassurances to Tyrion they had very little time to reach Winterfell, and if they arrived when it was too late Arya knew she wouldn't have just lost her sister, but would lose Tyrion too.

Robin tapped his fingers impatiently as Iggo carried on talking. Lord Locke was staring at the maps on the table as if they held some great secret, and Grey Worm was as stony-faced as ever - though Iggo's words were seeking to change that.

"Tell me friend, was it the dwarf or the wolf that bit your fingers off?" said Iggo

Grey Worm curled what remained of his hand into a fist, but didn't answer the sellsword.

"The dwarf? Truly they are vicious creatures" continued Iggo

Robin snorted "Hardly. More like Sansa's lapdog"

The sellsword captain smiled, bringing his dark eyes to focus on Robin "Interesting. I hear he made quite the fool of you in the Wolfswood"

Robin narrowed his eyes in warning. He wasn't sure how but Iggo had managed to learn the details of what happened in the Wolfswood. It would have been more an annoyance than a problem if not for Grey Worm. The Unsullied captain might be stupid but he wasn't deaf. The last thing they needed was for Grey Worm to hear word of his and Gawan's slavery business. It had taken some effort to convince him the rumours of a slave trade were nothing more than vicious lies. That the Unsullied were marching separately from them was a stroke of good fortune, and minimized the chance of them hearing rumours from the rest of the army, but at meetings like this Iggo seemed to delight in trying to provoke a response from Grey Worm.

The Unsullied captain jabbed a finger at the map "Where we leave Kings Road?"

"Here" said Robin, pointing to a spot a couple of days from Winterfell "the landscape will be harder but I'd rather approach Winterfell from there"

Lord Locke grunted his agreement "As good of a place as any. We'd need to leave the Kings Road sooner or later to reach Winterfell"

Iggo hummed thoughtfully; twirling a blade through his fingers "The Queen will not like your answer. You are certain she will not call for aid?"

"It's too late" said Robin "By the time she gets my answer only house Cerwyn will be able to reach her in time. I've got scouts watching the Kings Road towards Winterfell and there's been no movement at all. She's alone"

"Foolish woman" said Iggo

"Typical arrogant Stark" muttered lord Locke "never had the time to answer my letters, but I bet she'd want my help now"

Robin's mouth twitched upwards "The Stark's days are numbered. Sansa and Arya's heads will decorate the walls of Winterfell, and Grey Worm can take the imp as promised. A new age for the North begins soon"

Bran watched the fire consuming the lion banners with a strange sense of melancholy. Never again would the Lannister sigil be used in the six Kingdoms.

"Aint that better?" asked Bronn, tossing the last of the banners onto the pile

Pod's mouth was a tight line as he watched the flames take hold of the banners, and it was easy to see he didn't share Bronn's enthusiasm for the task.

"Tyrion is supposed to be your friend" said Brienne, shaking her head in despair "You could at least show some respect"

"He is my friend, but this aint his castle no more, and these aint his banners. You saw those fancy black and gold ones he had at Winterfell"

"Nicer than the red and gold" said Ser Davos

Bran turned to Pod as the others fell into a debate about house sigils and colours. The new lord of Casterly Rock had made good progress making the castle his, but there had been plenty of reluctance too.

"Tyrion would want you to do this" said Bran

"It still seems wrong" said Pod "I still think this is someone else's castle"

"The lords of the Westerlands will arrive within a week to pledge their fealty to you. They can't pledge fealty to a lord who doubts himself"

Pod bit his lip for a moment before nodding.

"Tyrion chose you for this Pod" said Bran "In a different world he'd have been my hand, and I trust his advice. You should trust it too"

Podrick straightened up, drawing in a deep breath "Yes, your Grace. I can do this"

"Of course you can" said Bran "You're exactly where you're supposed to be, as is Tyrion"

Arya didn't have to think hard to imagine the look on her sister's face if she were here. Sansa might have been the perfect lady but there was a wolf lurking inside of her, and the wolf would not have liked the way Rose threw her arms around Tyrion.

"Tyrion!" said Rose, pulling him roughly against her and twirling on the spot "I knew you'd make it. I told that wife of yours"

Lord Mazin had arrived with a thousand men and to lord Manderly's horror at least thirty wildlings. Most were women carrying spears, though there were a couple of boys who could barely be called men and about three men who looked far too old to travel. The ships were near ready to depart and word had been sent to the approaching Karlon Mazin to bring his men straight there, leading to a rather awkward reunion on the docks. The young lord Mazin had worn a wild grin as he arrived, despite the long march from Ramsgate to White Harbour, but it was the wildlings who had been the most pleased to see Tyrion.

"Ah, Rose - it is good to see you" said Tyrion

Despite his words Tyrion's eyes were darting to hers, silently pleading for help as the rest of the wildlings surrounded him. Arya rolled her eyes, leaving lord Mazin to speak with lord Glover as the final preparations were made to leave.

"I'm surprised to see you" said Arya, moving to stand beside Tyrion and Lyon. Unlike his master, the little wolf looked quite pleased with the attention of the wildlings.

The wildling woman nodded towards lord Mazin "Him and some other men in fancy clothes met us whilst we was moving south. We all thought it was to try and kill us but he had a message from Tyrion to take us to safety"

"We'd heard you were fleeing the Gift?" asked Tyrion

"That's right little lord. Me and the girls hadn't long got back after you saved us from the Wolfswood when men on horses started attacking the Gift. They set fires all around our homes and we just couldn't fight them. Too many old and too many children. We wouldn't last beyond the wall so we went south instead"

"I'm surprised you trusted lord Mazin" said Arya "especially after Robin and Gawan captured you"

The woman shrugged "Didn't have much choice. It was risk going with him or facing the bastards chasing us off the Gift. When he read me a message saying he'd cleaned the food from his face I knew it was from Tyrion"

"Why's that?" asked Arya, before she could stop herself

"Cause the scruffy-looking lord shoved Tyrion's face in some rancid food and made him eat like a dog" said Rose easily

Tyrion shrunk in on himself and Arya inwardly berated her thoughtless question. She vaguely remembered Tyrion saying he would give lord Mazin a message to deliver to the wildlings so they would know the offer of shelter at Ramsgate was from him but she hadn't considered it would be related to his time in the Wolfswood. Of course that would make the most sense - what else did Tyrion and Rose have in common?

"What brings you to White Harbour?" asked Arya, keen to move the conversation into safer territory

Rose looked at the wildlings assembled behind her and snorted "Thought we'd come get a fancy castle"

"Need a new gown I do!" called a woman further back in the group

"Might trade me spear in for a man" said another, to even more laughter

Arya's face burned as she realized what a stupid question she'd asked. It was Sansa's fault. The stress of her and Tyrion's race across the North was clearly playing with her mind.

Lord Manderly was lurking near the ship they would board, watching the wildlings as if they might decide to steal his ships. Lord Glover was heading over to him and a moment later lord Mazin made his presence known.

"Lord Tyrion, lady Arya! It is good to see you both"

"And you my lord" said Tyrion, as the younger man eagerly grasped his hand

"I cannot thank you enough for your aid" said Tyrion "House Mazin's support during this time will not be forgotten"

"Not at all my lord. I must say I'm as keen to put an end to Robin Flint as Rose and the free folk"

"That's why you're here?" asked Tyrion, turning to the wildling woman

Rose snorted "We didn't march all this way for nothing"

"I cannot ask you to fight. I know the free folk do not kneel"

"We don't, but as soon as we heard it was you asking for help and you were going after that bastard who put us in chains we came"

Tyrion shook his head "You've suffered enough - it's much safer at Ramsgate"

"Too right it is. That's why we came. There aint many of us who can fight but the ones who can want to. The children and the old are safe there"

Arya was thoroughly confused. Lord Mazin had generously offered to host the free folk on some land near Ramsgate, mostly out of gratitude to Tyrion who saved them along with a girl from Ramsgate. Arya had expected it to be a tense, uneasy arrangement and the look on Tyrion's face told her he'd imagined the same - yet the young lord Mazin seemed perfectly at ease around the wildlings and in turn they weren't nervous around him.

"That is good to hear" said Tyrion "though it isn't necessary"

"Of course it is. No one puts a free woman in chains and lives to tell the tale"

"I promise, justice will be done for you and all the women who were taken" said Tyrion "but this battle is also to defend our Queen - a Queen you do not recognise. I would not ask you to fight with us"

Rose smiled widely, grabbing Tyrion's arm and tugging him towards the ship and the increasingly horrified lord Manderly "You aint asking, and we are fighting with you! Don't you worry little lion, we'll rescue that pretty wife of yours and put the bastard's head on a spike"

Lyon trotted after his master as the wildlings followed Rose, leaving just Arya and lord Mazin behind.

"I didn't expect to see the free folk here" said Arya

He shrugged "They were keen to repay their debt to lord Tyrion"

"Has there been much trouble at Ramsgate?"

"None at all" he said "I expected there to be in truth, but the young girl who lord Tyrion rescued has spread word through the villages of how kind the wildlings were to her when she was scared and alone. The people of Ramsgate gave them a chance, and the free folk have done nothing to jeopardise that - the groups keep to themselves mostly, though I've seen the children playing together"

"That's...good to hear, I suppose"

Lord Mazin nodded, leading the way to the last ship that was about to depart "It has been educational. They're not so different to us, and they respect lord Tyrion. When they heard where I was going Rose demanded they join us and I could not refuse"

"We need all the help we can get" said Arya

Lord Mazin's face darkened "Yes, lord Cerwyn's letter explained the threat. My father would have joined us as well if he were in better health. No true Northerner would act as Robin Flint has - it is past time he paid for his crimes"

"Agreed" said Arya

Compared to the ship she'd arrived on not two days before lord Manderly's ships were much larger and, hopefully, quicker. It would take them three days at best to travel up the White Knife and from there a day's march to get in position without getting too close to Winterfell. Tyrion's plan rested on them surrounding the North of Winterfell without being noticed by Sansa or Robin. The task itself would be nearly impossible, and the journey to get there would be a painful affair.

Lord Manderly and lord Glover would be insufferable, and Ayra now had the added problem of making sure Tyrion wasn't stolen from his bed by grateful wildlings. The last thing they needed upon reaching Winterfell was for Tyrion to have gained a spear wife - though the prospect of seeing Sansa's face made it tempting.

Sansa moved her hands beneath the table when she noticed them shaking. Not that it made much difference - the rest of her was trembling too.

"They're all dead?" asked Sansa

Maester Wolkan inclined his head "All but one your Grace. His letter says the men who brought your terms to Robin never returned and a man named Iggo arrived several hours later at the temporary camp our men had. There was ten of them at the camp and this Iggo asked if any of them could write a letter before he and his sellswords slaughtered everyone else"

"There was no need to kill them" whispered Sansa "they were only offering my terms - they weren't a threat"

"Robin has no honour your Grace, whilst our men do. They would not have expected the ambush, nor would they have stood much chance against this Iggo and his sellswords"

Sansa's heart slammed against her chest with such force she feared it may break free. They were waiting for her to make a decision. As soon as the raven had arrived she'd called a meeting with Maester Wolkan and the acting captain of her guards to read it. Errol rarely spoke but the man's face had darkened considerably upon hearing the news. Good men had died because of this. Not just hers - the men who'd been killed were from their allies as well. They'd spent weeks at her command holding the Dreadfort and reporting to her. Delivering her terms to Robin was to be their last act before returning home - and now they wouldn't be returning home. The man who'd written the letter may or may not be alive. After it had been sent his usefulness to Robin would have run out.

"Anything else?" asked Sansa, her throat closing up

The Maester sighed, rubbing his beard "Apparently his army numbers over ten thousand without any Unsullied. The Unsullied haven't been seen but our man says Iggo and his sellswords were speaking of them - and mentioned Grey Worm"

An army was just three days away from Winterfell, and Sansa had left them undefended. It was too late now to call her banners. The only one likely to arrive in time was house Cerwyn who was a days ride away - and coming alone would only condemn them too.

"We need to evacuate" said Sansa, swallowing thickly "I will write to lord Cerwyn and ask him to shelter us"

Errol grunted "Won't work your Grace. Too many smallfolk, not enough guards - and the weather's turning"

"If they stay they'll die"

The large man shrugged "They'd rather die in their homes"

Maester Wolkan nodded his head in agreement "Unfortunately Errol is correct. As you instructed we began planning to evacuate the villages, but I fear years of war has made it near impossible. The villages are full of women with small children, as well as the old and the sick. The worsening weather means many wouldn't survive the journey to Castle Cerwyn. It may be a day's ride but would take much longer on foot with small children and the ill"

'What have I done?' thought Sansa 'I've condemned my people to death'

A tremble went through the Queen, followed swiftly by another. Wolkan and Errol exchanged looks.

"You were right" said Sansa, wrapping her arms around herself "this is my fault. I should have called the banners...I thought...I thought he'd take the offer. My death should have been enough"

"Your intentions were honourable your Grace" said Wolkan "your plan put the North's safety at the forefront. That Robin Flint has rejected your terms shows quite clearly he cares only for power"

"What are your orders your Grace?" asked Errol

'Mother, Father - I wish you were here to guide me'

Sansa pulled in a shaky breath, forcing her mind to think of a solution. There were very few options left to them with Robin so close.

"Prepare Winterfell for siege" she said "I know there's not much time but it's the only way to protect the smallfolk. We'll bring all from the nearest villages who are willing within the walls"

"And call the banners to free us?" asked Wolkan

Sansa shook her head "No there isn't time. Winterfell will prepare for siege and I will ride out to meet Robin before he attacks. There has to be some way to stop this"

"I'll ready the guards for battle" said Errol

"No! There is no point, they'll die for nothing"

"They'll die for their Queen"

Sansa's heart twisted before she nodded her head "I don't want anyone to die for me, but if Robin is intent on war all efforts must be made to stop him. If I cannot convince him to a peaceful exchange of power all efforts should be made to kill him before he attacks Winterfell. I will ride out with the guards to treat with him, and if there is no progress I want all of the guards to attack him"

"You'll be killed in the battle your Grace" warned Wolkan

"Then so be it" said Sansa, moving her hand to fiddle with her necklace "Errol, prepare the men for battle with orders to kill Robin Flint, lord Locke and this Iggo with the highest priority. If the Unsullied are with Robin, target Grey Worm as well. We can't fight a war but if Robin won't agree to my terms when I meet with him we can try and cut off the heads of his army. Leave some men to defend the walls of Winterfell, but arrange for archers and mounted guards to accompany me"

Errol considered for a moment before nodding "As you say your Grace"

She turned to Maester Wolkan "The letters are ready?"

"Yes, your Grace"

"Send them today. Whether Robin agrees to my terms or not his army will reach Winterfell. At best he'll be killed before he can attack but we must prepare the North for the likelihood he'll be King. Maester you will remain in the castle, and when I ride out with the guards you will write to lord Cerwyn and lady Tallhart and tell them Winterfell is under siege. It's a small chance, but if Robin knows the North is aware innocent small folk are hiding in Winterfell he might be more inclined to let them live"

The old man looked as if he wanted to argue, but reluctantly nodded his help "Very well my Queen"

Sansa sank back in her chair as the two men left, leaving her alone with her guilt. Robin should have taken the deal. Sansa had used everything she'd learned to make her plans.

'When I try to understand a person's motives I play a little game...'

It should have worked; she'd assumed the worst of Robin. He wanted power, he wanted to be King. Yet that wasn't enough.

'What's the worst reason they could possibly have for saying what they say and doing what they do...'

Robin didn't just want to gain power; he wanted to show he had it already. He didn't want to simply take the throne anymore, he wanted to win it in battle like Robert Baratheon or Daenerys Targaryen - and he didn't care who died to make it possible. Sansa rubbed the pendant of her necklace between her fingers as pressure built in her chest. She thought she'd understood Robin and what he wanted, but she'd underestimated him. All the lessons she'd learned hadn't been enough for her to win the game.

A bitter smile crossed her face. An ancestor of house Flint had tried to make himself King beyond the wall once and was recorded as one of the worst lord commanders in the history of the Nights Watch. Delusions of royalty must surely run in that family. This time Robin would succeed. Despite adjusting her strategy the odds of success were dangerously low and she would die either way.

Sending her family away haunted her every day but it was better than the alternative. She could face her own death but never theirs. All the same her heart ached for those she'd lost.

'I'd give anything to see you again my love, even if only for a moment' she thought 'when you read the letter, when you learn what's happened; never forget I love you. I can do this if it means you and Arya and Lyon are safe'

There were only so many places to hide on the ship, and after two days Tyrion had exhausted all of them.

"What you doing down there?"

Tyrion winced as Rose's footsteps fell closer and she leaned over the railings to see him. He'd tried to make the most of his height and squeezed into a gap between the upper and lower deck. It was a small ledge, mostly obscured by the railings and just high enough for Tyrion to avoid being splashed by the river as they travelled north. It was hardly a dignified position for the lord of Winterfell but between the other lords and the wildlings it was the only peace he could get.

Rose peered down at him, her wild dark hair being whipped back and forth in the surprisingly cold wind. Brice had only remarked earlier than the weather seemed to be lurching back to winter. The last thing they needed was difficult weather to delay them reaching Winterfell.

"You don't have to hide" said Rose, rolling her eyes "your sister asked me to have a word with the girls. They're only playing - they aint gonna kidnap you in the night and have their way with ya"

"That would be more reassuring if I hadn't heard them discussing the contents of my breeches"

"Most men would be flattered to know women thought he had a big cock" said Rose, lifting an eyebrow "Hali swears up and down she met a dwarf beyond the wall once with the biggest cock she'd seen. As soon as she saw you she reckoned you'd be even better"

Tyrion's face burned as the woman laughed.

"Gods, you're easy to embarrass"

"If you'd met me years ago you wouldn't be saying that"

If Rose had met him years ago he'd have probably offered his cock to any girl who'd have it and basked in the attention. Not anymore. Even the thought of the man he'd once been filled him with shame.

"You can't blame the girls for trying" said Rose "there's hardly any free men this side of the wall. If they want a man they'll have to make do with the soft southerners who live around here"

"This is the North"

"Not the real North. You're all southerners here compared to us"

"At least I'm not alone then"

"You needn't be alone Tyrion Lannister - half the women here would let you put a fluffy little lion in their belly. A few turns of the moon and there'd be a tribe of them running about"

"I'll have to decline, thank you" said Tyrion, forcing himself to smile at her teasing despite the ache in his chest. There was only one person he wanted to make fluffy little lions with.

"Oh fine" said Rose, sighing dramatically "I'll make sure your honour is still intact when we get to your woman. The spear wives will be heart-broken, but that friend of yours will have to satisfy them"

Cayn was rather captivated by the free folk, and like many a lad his age wasn't thinking with his head. Alec and Brice had promised to keep an eye on him, lest he returns home with a spear wife.

"Forgive me Rose, I fear I'm not the best company at the moment. I am glad to see you though. What you and the other women endured in the Wolfswood will not go unpunished"

Rose smiled "I'm glad to see you too. Never got a chance to thank you for what you did"

"You owe me no thanks"

"No-one else would have done that. The kneelers only care about themselves. Except for you. The lord of Winterfell didn't turn us away - we free folk remember that"

"The only difference between the free folk and the rest of us is what side of the wall we were on when it was built" said Tyrion, echoing the sentiment he'd shared at Castle Black so long ago

Rose laughed "Careful little lord - talk like that and I won't be able to save you from the women eager to meet your cock"

"I'm a married man"

"Don't I know it? You should have seen the look on your woman's face when I kissed you"

Tyrion's eyes widened as he twisted in his position to see Rose more clearly "You what?"

The woman's face was full of mischief, contrasting sharply with the anger that had been there in the Wolfswood. It made her look younger but no less dangerous.

"Your Queen never tell you I visited?"

"She mentioned you saw me before you left" said Tyrion, dredging through his mind for the conversation "she never mentioned you'd kissed me"

"I bet she didn't" snorted Rose "She had you all tucked up in bed and didn't want to let me see you at all, but Arya convinced her to let me in. 'He might never wake up' she said, looking at you like you might die any second. Typical southerner. I knew you'd be fine - you're a tough little lion"

Grief threatened to overwhelm Tyrion as Rose described Sansa's concern for him. She'd been so worried for him, even when he'd woken up her blue eyes had been full of fear.

"Before I left I said thank you to ya and kissed your head. The little wolf on your bed wasn't as frightening as the look your woman gave me. Could make a spear wife out of her yet"

The thought made him smile, though reality soon sobered his mood. There was nothing he wouldn't give to be with Sansa right now. To break through the walls she used to protect herself and comfort her. Truly, he'd never felt quite as helpless as he did now. There was nothing to do until they got off this damned ship.

"Don't look so sad Tyrion Lannister. Any man who can save forty women and girls on his own can beat some little boy who thinks he's a King"

Tyrion glanced up to see Rose offering him a hand out of his hiding place.

"I hope you're right" he said, moving stiffly to his feet

"Of course I am" she said, reaching down to grasp his hand "Come on. Let's save your Queen"

Lyle couldn't help fidgeting as Nessa spoke with Errol in the near-empty barracks. They'd done their best to follow Tyrion's vague orders and with Robin only two days away nerves were increasing in everyone. Emergency preparations were underway to prepare for siege and to bring the small folk inside the walls, but Lyle had been unable to get a definitive answer from Errol about whether he would follow Tyrion's orders or not. After days of trying with no success Lyle had reluctantly agreed to let Nessa speak to the acting Winterfell captain.

Maester Wolkan had caught Nessa in the act of destroying letters, but rather than report their plot to the Queen the old Maester had become a co-conspirator. His involvement made things far easier, particularly with monitoring what information the Queen received. Errol's support would make things easier too, if he agreed to give it to them. The Winterfell guards were scouting for Robin's movements but if they saw any other troop movements they would report it to Errol or the Queen - unless Errol sided with them and agreed to keep any allied movements from the Queen's ear.

"...all you need to do is not tell the Queen if you hear about Tyrion and his friends" said Nessa, brandishing the letter she'd received as if it was a royal decree

Errol was unreadable, much like every time Lyle had tried to speak with him. Nessa was a clever child but Tyrion's message was deliberately vague in parts to keep her from realising the full extent of what was happening. While Nessa realised Tyrion's friends were likely other Northern houses she didn't quite understand this meant there would be a bloody battle if they arrived in time. Beyond the vague letter, they had no real idea what Tyrion was planning.

"Lord Tyrion is most certainly returning with help" Maester Wolkan had said after reading the letter "though we cannot know how much help he will bring or even what his plan entails"

"Is the Queen really going to surrender?" he'd asked

"I fear so. The Queen believes her death will prevent a war rather than be the first casualty in one that is unavoidable"

Maester Wolkan had kept him updated though there was nothing more they could do than what Tyrion had asked. He and Nessa would keep an eye on what correspondence the Queen received but Lyle's job of convincing Errol to help them had proven near impossible.

"Why can't the Queen know?" asked Errol eventually "If lord Tyrion is coming with friends it could help her"

"Tyrion says we can't tell the Queen" said Nessa, shaking her head

"I don't know either" said Lyle "but the Maester said it's probably so Robin Flint doesn't find out. There must be scouts watching Winterfell - if they see us preparing as if we have 'friends' coming then..."

He trailed off, trusting the other man to connect the pieces. Truthfully Lyle had wondered the same thing but Wolkan had guessed it was for the sake of maintaining appearances. If Robin thought Winterfell stood alone he would be more reckless.

"Alright" grunted Errol

"You'll help?" asked Nessa, her eyes lighting up

He nodded "To protect the Queen. I'll make sure lord Tyrion's orders are followed"

"Thank you" chirped Nessa "Tyrion will be happy"

Errol's face twisted in what might have been a smile before the man lumbered from the room.

"I can't believe it" muttered Lyle "I've been trying to convince him for days"

Nessa shrugged "Wasn't so hard"

"I think Errol just doesn't like me" said Lyle, rubbing at his still healing side "When are your mother and Ethan coming to Winterfell?"

"Soon" said Nessa "I'm going to get them later"

"I'll swap if you want. I've got to try and convince Esther to leave her home"

The girl fell quiet "Lyle, why are we hiding in Winterfell?"

"Um, just to keep us safe"

"But Tyrion's coming. He'll beat Robin"

"I'm sure he will" said Lyle, suddenly feeling awkward

Her face fell "You don't think so?"

"No! Of course he will. Everyone coming to Winterfell is just the Queen being extra safe"

Nessa bit her lip, before nodding "Ok"

"Don't worry about any of it. I bet your brother is excited to see Winterfell?"

Excitement quickly took over her doubt "He is. Ethan misses Lyon and I told him we could see Emory and the dogs instead. He loves animals"

"Really?" asked Lyle, happy to let Nessa chat away as they left the barracks. With Errol on side there was nothing they could do but wait. At least Tyrion's return had another benefit - it had been a long two weeks without Cayn.

The Queen in the North.

In her youth, Sansa had wanted to be Queen of the seven kingdoms. The thought was almost laughable. How could she have ruled seven Kingdoms when she couldn't rule one? The North may be the biggest, but it was also her home - and she couldn't protect it. Sansa spared herself only a cursory glance in the mirror before moving to the door of her chambers.

She'd dressed in a high collared black gown with direwolves stitched delicately down the sleeves. A long grey cloak hung around her and the necklace Tyrion had given her was concealed beneath the high collar of her gown. It had been tempting to leave the necklace hidden in Winterfell or try to send it south so Tyrion could have it, but in the end she couldn't bear to leave it. If she closed her eyes she could still feel Tyrion's hands as he fastened it around her neck, and picture the joy in his eyes that she'd accepted the necklace that had been his mother's. Sansa couldn't leave it behind. It was selfish but she wanted some piece of her husband with her at the end.

Sansa took one final look around her chambers, her eyes lingering on Tyrion's belongings. Robin would destroy it all if he got into the castle, but Sansa had found herself too weak to move anything. The Maester had promised to hide the valuables when she fell, he said he'd try and get Tyrion's things to him if possible. The thought lifted her spirits slightly - Tyrion had been so happy with his name day gifts. That day was one of her favourite memories.

The room was full of memories, but without her husband it had become as uninviting as the crypts. She stepped back into the corridor, pulling the door shut with a finality that left her colder than ever.

The halls of Winterfell were empty as she made her way through them, but that was how she'd arranged it. The smallfolk had been brought within the castle walls but Sansa would leave quietly, slipping away from Winterfell and riding out with the guards. A number of them would stay to garrison the castle, including Tyrion's friend Lyle, who wasn't deemed fit enough for battle. The sun hadn't yet begun to rise when Sansa stepped out of the castle and into the bracing cold. It had snowed on and off continuously for the last two days leaving a thick covering of snow across Winterfell.

Errol was waiting for her at the side gate and merely inclined his head in greeting before opening the gate for her. There were to be no goodbyes, she'd insisted on that. The only one she'd said a personal goodbye to was Maester Wolkan, who'd been one of her most trusted advisors.

"I can't thank you enough Maester" she'd told him "without your guidance, knowledge and kindness I don't know how I would have managed"

The man's face had been full of sadness "You're an excellent Queen, your Grace, and you never truly needed my help. It has been my honour to serve you"

Sansa had considered making a speech; to try and reassure the Winterfell household and small folk that all would be well. In the end she hadn't. It seemed a hollow gesture for people whose lives were in danger, and in truth Sansa had no optimism to give them.

Her horse was already prepared and soon enough they were on their way. There were forty guards accompanying her, and two were carrying Stark banners - hardly the host of a Queen. Errol assured her all these men had volunteered for this duty knowing full well they were unlikely to survive, and they were to prioritise killing Robin if negotiations didn't progress. They rode North of Winterfell, until the castle became a landmark in the distance and they reached the top of a hill looking over a wide clearing below. The Kings Road was some miles to the right, though the landscape was riddled by hills, forest and a fresh layer of snow. The clearing rose up at the other side, hiding what lay beyond it - but Sansa knew. The scouts had confirmed last night that Robin and an army of ten thousand men sat waiting at the other side. They'd abandoned the Kings Road for the last stretch to Winterfell, and when Sansa and her paltry host were dead they would have a clear run at the castle and the innocents hiding within it.

Sansa pulled her horse's reins, slowing it to a trot as they approached the scouts waiting at their side of the clearing. Thick black clouds covered the sky and flakes of snow were once again fluttering to the ground as if the old Gods themselves disliked what was about to happen.

"What's the situation?" asked Sansa

The scout pointed to the thick forests that stretched out around the clearing "We've got archers ready in the trees and there's no sign Robin has anyone hiding in the forest"

"Good" said Sansa, squinting at the trees "though I'm surprised Robin hasn't got men lying in wait"

"It's arrogance your Grace. He knows he has the numbers and he's being reckless"

"Stupid green boy" muttered Errol

"Any sign of the Unsullied?" she asked

The scout shook his head "Not in their camp but given the landscape around here I can't be certain they're not approaching. Given the Unsullied's reputation in the North it's possible they travelled separately from Robin's main army"

"I can't imagine a host of Northerners, Unsullied and sellswords getting along particularly well" agreed Sansa "How soon will they move?"

"Anytime now your Grace" said the man "I pulled the scouts back when they started breaking camp"

"Does Robin know we're here?"

"I'd imagine so. His own scouts are poorly hidden and bloody lazy, but even they will have seen the Stark banners approach"

"Very well" said Sansa, straightening in her saddle "then there is nothing to do but wait"

The wait could have lasted hours or minutes - to Sansa it seemed endless. The snowfall grew heavier and the dark clouds hanging over the field made sure no light could get through and warm them. The wind whipped through the trees and around the hills, and more than once Sansa thought it was whispering. It was fear making her paranoid, making her hear things that weren't there. Not every crunch of snow or whine of a horse meant death.

When the first glimpse of Robin's army appeared at the top of the other hill Sansa's blood ran cold. It was too familiar, stirring long-repressed memories of Ramsay Bolton and his army - of Rickon dying and the fear of Jon joining him.

The blue and yellow banners of house Flint soon came into view as Robin's army marched over the crest of the hill. Hundreds and hundreds came, spreading out across the field and leaving a gap for Robin and his generals to lead their horses through. A number of his army was mounted, but the vast majority were on foot - including the sellswords, who were easily distinguished by their unusual clothing style. They were also the ones struggling in the fresh snow.

"Not a tactic in that bastard's head" muttered Errol

The scout grunted in agreement at her other side "Shows how bloody little he knows to bring his whole army marching over the fucking hill"

They were right, even she would have known better than that. Nausea rolled through Sansa as the realisation sunk in. They might have beaten Robin if she'd done the smart thing and called her banners. He was a green boy with no experience, desperately trying to recreate her brother Robb's success. Robb had won every battle despite his inexperience, and he'd become King - Robin Flint was attempting the same, but unlike her brother he hadn't the skill for it. His army was large, but it was disorganised. Lord Locke was there with Robin, but he'd either failed to correct Robin's mistakes or was blind to them himself.

Sansa was struck by the sudden urge to laugh. Why had she been afraid of Robin and his army? Fear had driven every decision she'd made, and she'd refused to see it. Maester Wolkan had warned her repeatedly. Alec and Brice had urged her to change course before they took her family south. This might have all been avoided if she'd seen things as they were rather than as she'd feared them to be. Robin was a vicious monster, full of cunning and spite - but he was also weak. His battle tactics alone laid bare his shortcomings. The sellswords weren't used to the Northern landscape either - they might be violent killers but here they were as out of their depth as Robin.

None of that mattered now. The decisions had already been made and the North would pay for her mistakes.

Robin rode out in front of his army, with a circle of mounted guards around him. Sansa urged her own host to move down the hill and into the clearing. If things went badly and they needed to kill Robin they would need to be closer. Lord Locke hung back in front of his own men, and another man sat lazily atop a horse over to Robin's right. He had jet black hair and carried a curved sword in his right hand. It had to be the sellsword captain Iggo; the man who'd slaughtered her men.

"Have you come to bend the knee to the King?" called Robin, causing laughter among his troops "I'm sure you got my response to your offer. If you get on your knees and beg I might considerate sparing your men"

Anger reared in Sansa like a hungry wolf. She'd convinced herself this was the right solution, she'd accepted death. It was only in coming face to face with Robin that Sansa's acceptance of death turned to despair. Her stupidity would cost more than just her life.

"The North is at peace" said Sansa "there is no need for bloodshed"

"Isn't there? You killed Gawan for nothing. He was one of our own!"

Once again Robin's men cheered, this time baying for her blood. He was whipping them into a frenzy and Gawan's death was being used as their rallying cry.

"Gawan Glover was a monster, just like you" she shot back

Robin's angular face twisted into a sneer. He lifted a hand to quiet his men "I've changed my mind I won't spare your men, no matter how much time you spend on your knees begging. Where's your pet lion? Is he hiding in the castle - I'll soon drag him out"

Sansa said nothing. There was nothing left to say - it was increasingly obvious Robin wanted not just the crown but the fabled glory of winning it in battle. Whatever she said or didn't say would make no difference. The only consolation was Robin wouldn't get his hands on Tyrion and Arya - they wouldn't pay the price with her.

"I'm not going to beg" whispered Sansa

Errol nodded "It's not worth it"

"And he's lying" added the scout "he'll kill us anyway"

"I'm sorry" said Sansa, swallowing thickly "I never wanted anyone else to die"

Errol shrugged his wide shoulders "So long as someone wipes the smirk off the bastard's face"

Robin lifted his voice, growing tired of waiting "Loyal followers, brothers in arms - today begins a new age for the North. Winterfell looms in the distance, and the Queen has come to die. Kill everyone who stands between us, and bring Sansa Stark before me. I'll keep her alive long enough to watch the villages burn, and her legacy crumble. We'll decorate the walls of Winterfell with her sister and her imp!"

Sansa braced herself as Robin's men cheered. There was no negotiating a peaceful exchange of power.

"We need to kill him" murmured Sansa

The guards around Sansa stirred to life, but Sansa was left thoroughly confused when they formed a defensive square around her.

"No, the priority is killing Robin" she hissed at Errol "You can't protect me"

The large man didn't reply. All her guards seemed to have gone deaf to her.

Robin lifted his sword into the air, a smirk on his face "Attack!"

As soon as the word left his mouth a new sound cut through the air.

"Owooooooo!"

The unmistakable sound of a wolf's howl caused Robin's army to falter as the forests and hills came to life around them. Sansa's mouth dropped open as hundreds of men emerged from the forests surrounding Robin's army in a semi-circle. The pounding of hooves drew Sansa's attention from the forests to the hill behind her - and the sight of more troops both mounted and on foot. The battle-axe of house Cerwyn pulled her eye to a number of mounted troops assembled behind Cley Cerwyn who was positioned at the front of the men. Sansa swept her gaze across the clearing as more troops emerged from the woods and reached the crest of the surrounding hills, all bearing sigils from across the North - including the merman of Manderly and the armoured fist of house Glover.

It was when Sansa glanced back at the hill behind her she saw it; a single black banner with the golden lion of Lannister. Her heart thrummed in her chest as she followed the banner to see Tyrion stood in front of it. Lyon was at his side and Arya stood beside him, but Sansa couldn't tear her eyes from her husband. Tears burned at her eyes, and it was all Sansa could do to not race up the hill and bury her face in Tyrion's neck. He stood just in front of the army, with his sword already in hand. Tyrion and Arya were unmounted, as was the bulk of the army behind them. Cley and his men were mostly on horseback, and to Tyrion's far right Sansa picked out the sigil of house Dustin flying over another section of mounted troops.

"What..." breathed Sansa, hardly able to believe what she was seeing. Tyrion was here, and he'd brought the North with him. Behind him Sansa noticed other faces too; Alec, Brice, lord Mazin, lord Glover and lord Manderly.

"No..."

The word snapped Sansa back to the present, and Robin's furious face. His troops hadn't moved since Tyrion and his army appeared.

"Attack!" roared Robin, pointing his sword at Tyrion "And kill the fucking dwarf!"

Tyrion lifted his own sword, his voice carrying across the clearing and washing over Sansa like a song.

"For the Queen!"

The clearing erupted in chaos and Sansa realised several things at once, the first being that she wasn't in charge. Errol and her host had closed ranks around her and quickly began to lead her horse out of the clearing. The Northerners swept past her to clash with Robin's forces and panic gripped Sansa as she lost sight of Tyrion.

"No! Turn back" said Sansa, trying to take control of her horse "we've got to get Tyrion"

Errol shook his head "Our orders are to defend you, your Grace"

"Whose orders?"

"Lord Tyrion's"

A rational part of Sansa realised staying in the thick of the battle would only endanger those around her, and she reluctantly urged her horse to retreat back towards the base of the hill.

"Watch out!"

The shout came just as something whistled past Sansa, missing her leg by inches but striking her horse. Sansa just had time to register the thick blade embedded in her horse's side before the creature reared up in pain, throwing her from the saddle. The world spun around Sansa as her back thudded painfully against the ground, with the thick snow doing only a little to cushion her fall. Her horse had run in the other direction, getting only a few away before falling to the ground. Sansa twisted her head from the ground to see who threw the blade, her blood running cold as Iggo's grinning face loomed over her.

"Not so Queenly down there" he said from his horse's back.

The Winterfell guards had been forced into battle as Iggo's sellswords hacked at their horses and tried to pull them down, leaving Sansa dazed and undefended on the ground. Her men were fighting to reach her, but the sellswords were overwhelming them.

"Take her" said Iggo "The King will want her alive for now"

Two of the sellswords moved to grab her and Sansa scrambled to push herself away from them. Falling from the horse had knocked the wind from her and she couldn't get her body to co-operate. Just as the first man reached for her a knife appeared in his neck. Blood spurted from the wound as he gasped for air. The second man twisted to find the attacker only for a thin blade to whip across his neck, opening his throat.

"Arya" breathed Sansa, as her sister moved in front of her

Iggo had seen his men's deaths and unlike them was ready for Arya. He brought his curved sword down in a vicious arc, and Arya leaned just out of reach as the blade whipped past her. Needle whipped upwards straight after, scoring a thin line across the man's upper thigh. The pounding of hooves rushed past Sansa as mounted guards swarmed around Iggo and his men, forcing them away from her. Arya didn't pursue but turned to her instead.

"Arya, I-"

"Don't" she said flatly "there's every chance I'll hit you if you open your mouth"

Sansa couldn't help but smile. She could take Arya's fury - she more than deserved it. None of that mattered as long as she and Tyrion were home. The battle raged around them as Sansa forced herself to her feet with Arya standing guard.

"You hurt?" asked Arya, seeing her wince

"I'm fine" said Sansa, rubbing her aching back "just hit the ground a bit hard"

They moved back from the fighting as much as possible, but it was impossible to avoid. Sansa saw Alec and Cayn fending off some Locke men, and thought she saw lord Manderly and his guards pushing back some sellswords. The huge man wasn't well suited to battle, but the guards surrounding him appeared to be carrying tridents rather than more traditional weapons.

"You should get back over the hill" said Arya "I'll send some guards with you"

"No" said Sansa immediately "I'm not leaving"

"You're no use here"

"This is my fault"

"On that we agree"

Sansa bit her lip "I'm so sorry Arya-"

"Don't even start with that" snapped her sister, grabbing a sword from the ground and shoving it in her hand "Here. If you won't leave at least have a weapon. Use the pointy end"

The sword was heavy and the end stained with blood, but Sansa felt a little better for having something to defend herself. She craned her neck, searching the battlefield.

"Where's Tyrion?" she asked, panic building when she couldn't find him

"Fighting"

"Where?" she demanded

Arya rolled her eyes, pointing to a group battling to reach Robin. Her heart leapt as she caught sight of her husband. His golden hair stood out from the crowd around him as he struck at the man in front of him. Lyon was lunging in and out, hobbling the enemies and bringing them to their knees for the allied force to kill.

"Is that Rose?" asked Sansa, spotting the woman fighting beside Tyrion. Upon closer inspection, there were several women fighting beside Tyrion, all carrying spears.

"They came to fight for Tyrion" said Arya

The urge to call out to Tyrion nearly overwhelmed Sansa before she took control of herself. Distracting him while he was fighting could get him killed. Sansa retreated further with Arya, surveying the battle as they went. The snow-covered ground had turned to sludge in the battle and was stained red with the blood of both enemies and allies. The battle was surprisingly even in terms of numbers, but the Northern weather was hindering Robin's sellswords. That wasn't to say the Iron Shields weren't effective. Sansa saw a group swarm around a Hornwood man, leaving a headless corpse behind when they broke apart.

"You aint my Queen!"

The shout pulled Sansa's focus to a Locke man charging at her from the side. Arya was there in an instant to silence him, but when he was dead three more broke through the allied lines to attack her. Time lost all meaning to Sansa as the battle went on. Lord Mazin and a group of his men fell back to help Arya defend her, and Sansa caught several glimpses of her allies fighting. Cley was bleeding and had lost his horse, but was continuing to fight on foot with his guards surrounding him - lord Hornwood had joined him. Lord Manderly had fallen back as well but didn't appear to be injured. It occurred to Sansa the allied forces were tired. Robin's men had just broken camp after a night of rest, and while Sansa didn't know the details of how Tyrion had arranged this it couldn't have left them much time to get here.

A flash of gold caught her eye, pulling her gaze to Tyrion who was struggling against a large sellsword. The man brought his sword down on Tyrion, with her husband raising his sword just in time to block, though the force of the blow sent him staggering back and onto the ground. Her throat tightened painfully as the fight unfolded. Tyrion was doing well - fighting with all the courage of a true lion - but it was obvious he wasn't a natural at swordplay. Fortunately, Tyrion realised it too. Just as the sellsword loomed over him to finish it, a dagger flew from Tyrion's left hand and into the man's throat, unleashing a curtain of blood.

Tyrion was just getting to his feet when a foot slammed into his side, sending him rolling through the sludgy snow. His sword clattered from his hand, and before Sansa knew what she was doing she was running towards them. Arya's panicked shout for her to stay back barely registered as she stumbled towards Tyrion. Blood covered his cloak and was splattered on his face but thank the Gods, it didn't seem to be his. Steel clashed all around her, and the cries of battle battered her ears as she tried to reach her husband. The man who'd kicked Tyrion was looming over him as he struggled to stand, and another man bearing the sigil of house Locke was closing in on his other side. Tyrion lunged for his sword, but the second man quickly grabbed him, lifting him clear of the ground and wrapping an arm across his throat.

The sword in Sansa's hand carried the weight of the world as she stumbled onwards. It was no use, she was too far away to reach him in time.

Despair raced through Sansa as she ran "Tyrion!"

Her shout distracted the men, and for a single moment Tyrion's familiar green eyes met hers. The men's momentary pause would cost them dearly. A growl ripped across the battlefield as Lyon launched himself at the man holding Tyrion. The direwolf went straight for his face and the man dropped Tyrion as he fell backwards, a pained scream leaving him as he fought to pull off the wolf. Having seen the wolf savaging his comrade the other man wasted no time drawing his sword on Tyrion - who was gasping for breath on his hands and knees in the snow.

No, she was too far away, she couldn't save him. The other man brought his sword down on Tyrion, just as a blade broke through his chest. The weapon aiming for Tyrion dropped from the dying man's grasp before it could deliver the fatal blow.

Sansa stopped in shock, her eyes sweeping over the sword protruding from the man's chest before landing on the man who put it there. Lord Glover stood behind the man, now pulling his sword back out of him.

"Protect the Queen!"

Hands grasped hold of Sansa and she found herself being pulled backwards and away from the battle. She saw lord Glover pulling Tyrion to his feet and picking up his sword, but they were quickly swept from view as the fighting intensified around them.

"No, I need Tyrion" said Sansa, struggling in the man's grasp as she was hauled backwards

"Sorry your Grace, but we've got orders" said Brice. He and a makeshift force of guards had surrounded her, pulling her back towards the outskirts of the battle.

Sansa choked back a sob; she'd been so close to Tyrion. Less than twenty feet had stood between them for the first time in weeks. The Queen grit her teeth, forcing herself to control her emotions. She was the biggest liability on the battlefield, and charging into the midst of battle was only putting others at risk. She could do nothing but wait, watch and pray to all the gods her family would be safe.

"He's trying to escape" shouted Arya, charging past her and towards where Tyrion and lord Glover were fighting to breakthrough

Sansa and her guards stopped a short distance from the fighting to see Robin, lord Locke and a number of their men were heading back towards the hill they'd crossed to get there. Tyrion's army had descended from all sides when they arrived, leaving Robin with only one direction to go. The sellswords and Robin's army were still fighting, but surely they would soon notice their leader was escaping.

Robin's head was cut, and his long blue cloak was torn to shreds but he appeared to have avoided the bulk of the fighting. Typical coward. He was happy to send his men to battle but wouldn't fight with them, unlike her husband who was leading from the front.

"Anyone else hear that?" asked Brice

It wasn't just Brice. A rattle drifted across the far hill, causing many of the soldiers to turn in curiosity. Sansa wrinkled her nose. It was an odd sound, but strangely familiar - and too synchronised to be random.

Robin had heard it too. He'd paused across the clearing, turning back to the allied forces with a triumphant grin. Understanding dawned on Sansa, just as hundreds of Unsullied appeared on the opposite hill. They looked no different than when they'd come with Daenerys. All carried spears and shields, all were marching in perfect time with each other. Grey Worm was at the front, leading them over the crest of the hill to the battle below.

"Seven hells" muttered Brice "Just what you don't want to bloody see"

"Better late than never" called Robin, as Grey Worm and the Unsullied came to a stop on the opposite hill "Help us to victory and the dwarf is yours, as agreed"

Sansa's heart crawled into her throat at the sight of the Unsullied. The North had come to her aid despite her mistakes but it wouldn't be enough. The allied forces were exhausted and the Unsullied were fresh for battle. It would be a bloody battle, and Tyrion and Arya were in the midst of it.

Grey Worm lifted his spear above his shoulder, as the rest of the Unsullied lifted their spears under their arms so the points were facing forwards. Robin's remaining forces were regrouping around him buoyed by the arrival of the Unsullied. The allied forces were regrouping too, forming a loose line across the clearing behind Tyrion and the rest of the Northern lords.

"You should retreat your Grace" said Brice "this is going to get messy"

"I'm not leaving"

'Not without Tyrion, never again without my family' she thought

Robin was smirking once again; as if he hadn't been trying to retreat before Grey Worm arrived.

"Attack!" ordered Robin

The Unsullied didn't move until Grey Worm did. He hefted his spear higher and launched it like a javelin - the point going straight through the rear legs of Robin's horse. Before the would-be King could understand what was happening the Unsullied marched into battle - and attacked Robin's forces.

Robin's horse fell beneath him and Sansa caught sight of him scrambling away from the hill as the Unsullied descended. The allied forces seemed just as stunned at the turn of events but were quick to seize the benefits.

"For Winterfell!"

Once again the clearing erupted in violence but with the Unsullied turning on Robin it quickly turned into a blood bath. Surrounded on all sides Robin's forces had nowhere to escape. Grey Worm had retrieved his spear from the dead horse and was now plunging it into any sellsword stupid enough to approach him. Lord Mazin and the wildlings had gone after Iggo and the sellsword captain was struggling to keep his footing in the sludgy snow, while Arya and Alec had turned their focus to lord Locke and his men who were quickly being overwhelmed by Tallhart and Winterfell guards.

The combined force of Tyrion's troops and the Unsullied drove what remained of Robin's forces into the centre of the clearing. It was there Sansa spotted Tyrion, pointing his sword at Robin.

"We need to get down there" said Sansa

"Your Grace..." started Brice

"Now!" she snapped

Much of the fighting had ended, leaving what remained of Robin's forces herded into a large group by the Unsullied. Lord Locke and Iggo were both on their knees and covered in blood with Alec and a number of guards holding them prisoner. The crowd parted to let Sansa through when she arrived, and Arya silently appeared beside her. Tyrion and Robin were both stood in the centre of the circle, and Grey Worm stood off to one side - his face unreadable as he watched. Lyon was there too, though the little wolf was covered in blood and limping as he made his way to his master's side.

"We had a deal!" snapped Robin, his eyes dark with fury as he turned to Grey Worm

The Unsullied captain was unmoved "Unsullied not serve slavers"

"You'd rather serve the traitorous dwarf?"

Grey Worm's face faltered for a moment "This one was freed by Daenerys Stormborn. This one serve no man"

Robin was beaten; a blind man could see it. Yet he still wouldn't accept his defeat. His sword was in hand, and Sansa noticed it was completely clean, unlike Tyrion's sword that was slick with blood.

"Your Queen surrendered" said Robin, lifting his sword and pointing it at Sansa "I am your rightful King"

"I hoped to avoid war" said Sansa. There was no point denying the truth, or pretending she had organised this army "I offered you terms of peace and you rejected it; you slaughtered my men and would have destroyed the peace of the North for your own gain. I made the mistake of pursuing peace, but where I was weak the North was strong - and it has rejected you"

The allied forces cheered her words, but Robin's face darkened. Why had she ever feared him - he was no better than Joffrey. He turned to lord Glover, who stood over to her left with lord Manderly.

"How could you help them? They killed your son"

The old man's face hardened "Gawan made his choices and he paid the price - just as you will boy"

"Is there no honour in the North?" demanded Robin "Your Queen surrendered; Winterfell is mine"

"No, it's mine" cut in Tyrion, still standing with his sword in hand between her and Robin. So close. If she took several steps forward she could have Tyrion back in her arms where he belonged.

"I am the lord of Winterfell" continued Tyrion, his voice filled with fury "and I do not surrender. Not to you, not to anyone"

Robin's hand tightened around his sword hilt "We could settle this the old way. You fight for your Queen and castle, and I'll fight for my crown"

"Agreed"

What? No. There was no need for this, Robin had lost. Sansa's stomach lurched as Arya's hand wrapped tightly around her wrist.

"He needs to do this" she hissed "Robin is his to kill"

Tyrion turned to her then, and Sansa drank in the sight of him like a woman starved. He was bleeding from a gash above his left eye, and his beard had grown out, once again making the end of his scar red and inflamed. His golden hair was damp from the still falling snow and he was covered in all manner of filth - yet to Sansa he'd never looked more beautiful.

Green eyes met hers, filled with so many emotions Sansa couldn't have named them all if she tried. It was somewhere in those depths she accepted that Arya was right, and no matter how much she wanted to protect Tyrion this was his fight.

The Queen straightened her back, nodding once to signal her agreement. If she were a man, or a fighter like Arya or Brienne she could have challenged Robin to single combat and ended this war before it started - just like Jon had offered Ramsay Bolton. Yet Sansa was not a fighter, and in this situation Tyrion would be her champion. He would fight to defend her and the North, and she could do nothing but watch.

Robin's mouth turned upwards "I need your word of honour imp; your beast and your men won't interfere"

"You have it" said Tyrion, running a hand through Lyon's fur "I'd ask for your word too, but you have no honour to swear on"

Sansa's heart developed a whole new rhythm as Tyrion sent Lyon to stand with them and readied himself to fight. Every instinct in Sansa urged her to intervene; this wasn't a fair fight. Robin was still fresh having avoided the battle while Tyrion was visibly tired and carrying god knows how many injuries from fighting. She'd seen him being kicked and then choked - how much hadn't she seen?

Robin knew this wasn't a fair fight. He was younger, taller and stronger than Tyrion. He wouldn't have dared challenged Robb or Jon, but because he thought of Tyrion as less than him he'd challenged him, and her brave lion had refused to back down.

Naturally, it was Robin who struck first. He launched himself at Tyrion, swinging his sword in a fury of strikes. While Robin had avoided much of the battle and lacked experience, he was a highborn lord and would have trained with a sword since boyhood. Unlike Tyrion who'd been forbidden to practice in his youth.

Tyrion brought his own blade up to block and the clash of steel rang out across the clearing. Every strike of Robin's was fuelled by anger, and the sheer force of his blows was taking its toll on Tyrion. He stumbled backwards, narrowly avoiding a strike that would have taken his head before whipping his own sword across Robin's stomach. The edge of the blade found its target, ripping through Robin's clothes and leaving a thin line of blood behind.

On and on it went. Tyrion had managed to cut Robin several times, including a line across his cheek, but he was reaching the end of his endurance while Robin was only getting angrier. Tyrion had taken a slash to his right shoulder and the edge of Robin's sword had cut a line across his left side that reached around to his back. Sansa felt everything along with her husband. Every cut, every hit - each one hammered at her self-control.

Honour be damned; if Tyrion fell Robin would die - she would make certain of that.

Tyrion made a vicious jab at Robin's stomach but the boy narrowly avoided it and Tyrion had overextended himself on the thrust, causing him to stumble forwards. He landed on one knee, dropping his sword just in front of him. He reached for it instantly - just when Robin changed tactics. He lifted his foot, stamping hard on Tyrion's weaker left ankle.

"Argh" groaned Tyrion, his face creasing in pain.

Robin lifted his foot again, kicking the sword away from Tyrion's outstretched hand. Sansa's blood turned to ice as Robin lifted his own sword over Tyrion.

'Please, no...not Tyrion' she thought desperately 'Fight my love, fight'

With his sword out of reach and stuck on one knee Tyrion had changed tactics too. As Robin lifted the sword over him, Tyrion pulled Bronn's dagger from his belt and plunged into the back of Robin's left knee.

Robin shrieked in pain, falling backwards at the blow. As soon as he fell Tyrion scrambled on top of him; knocking the sword from his hands before hammering his fist into the false King's face. It was Tyrion's turn to be angry as his fist fell again and again on his tormentor's face, a dull thud accompanying each strike. Robin twisted beneath him, trying to gain the upper hand without success.

They were both bleeding, but the dagger in Robin's knee was proving a lethal injury. Blood was spreading quickly into the snow when Tyrion sat back.

"Get him up" ordered Tyrion, moving unsteadily to his feet

The fight was over. Robin's face was a mess of blood and broken teeth, with his nose now sat at an odd angle. The would-be King couldn't move but lay groaning in the snow. Alec, and Cley's captain of the guard were the first to reach Robin and the two men quickly hauled him upright, forcing him onto his knees in front of Tyrion.

Robin was shaking, whimpers falling from him at being forced to kneel on his ruined knee. Tyrion was panting for breath, and blood was soaking through his clothes and dripping onto the ground from his injuries. The urge to reach out to him reared inside her once more, but Sansa fought to contain herself a little longer; the end of the nightmare was in sight.

Tyrion was limping badly as he retrieved his short sword, and Sansa could tell from the tightness in his face he was hiding a lot of pain. Alec and the guard had twisted Robin's arms behind his back and he sagged forwards in their grasp.

"You little…fucking…bastard" croaked Robin, tilting his head to see Tyrion "You're no lord of Winterfell…you don't belong here…"

Tyrion said nothing but turned to face Sansa.

He was asking permission, she realised. Robin was dying from his wounded knee but justice still needed to be carried and Tyrion wanted to swing the sword.

"As you see fit my lord" said Sansa, clasping her hands in front of her

Tyrion nodded and turned away to take up position to the side of Robin. The clearing was silent as a log was found and brought into the circle. Robin was made to bend over it, as Tyrion waited beside him. Snow was falling lightly now, and the thick dark clouds that had hung over the battlefield seemed to be breaking apart, giving space for a few rays of sunlight to sneak through. Lyon lurched forwards when it was time, limping to take his place at Tyrion's side.

"In the name of Sansa Stark, the Queen in the North, I, Tyrion Lannister - the lord of Winterfell, sentence you to die"

The valyrian steel of Tyrion's sword glinted in the light as he lifted it upwards. Robin opened his mouth as if to make some final insult, but never got the chance as Tyrion brought the blade slicing through his neck.

Robin's head dropped to the ground in a spray of blood, and a cheer erupted through the allied forces. The monster that had haunted them for months was finally dead.

Things moved quickly after that.

With the battle finished Sansa found herself bombarded by people waiting for her orders. There were injured who needed aid, hundreds of prisoners including lord Locke and Iggo, and the problem of the Unsullied. Tyrion was swept away from her by the jubilant Northerners keen to celebrate their victory with him. In truth, Sansa remembered very little about who asked her what, and what answers she gave them. None of that mattered to her.

It was at the edge of the clearing that Sansa finally found Tyrion. He was swaying where he stood but was cleaning the blood from his sword with a strip of cloth he'd presumably found. Lyon was with him, and the wolf was as blood covered as his master, though not injured enough to stop him growling as she approached.

Tyrion looked up at the sound, freezing when he saw her. This wasn't the lord of Winterfell who'd just led an army into battle, this was her Tyrion. The certainty she'd seen on his face not long ago had faded to the insecurity she knew so well. His eyes flicked to hers briefly, before staring firmly at the ground.

"Do you want me to go now?" he asked quietly

The question tore at Sansa's heart and she wasted no time dropping to her knees in front of him. She wrapped her arms around him, ignoring the way he stiffened at the contact and pulled him tightly against her.

"No sweetheart, we're going home"

Tears raced down her face as she kissed the side of his head; so many things to say to him, so many apologies to make.

"I would understand…" he whispered, still tense in her arms. It was a feeling she never wanted to experience again.

"I love you Tyrion" she said, her voice breaking "Winterfell is where you belong, and it wasn't home without you"