The young couple wasn't awoken by daylight the following morning, instead, it was a servant who had been pacing in front of their door for ten minutes, too nervous to disrupt his lord and lady with bad news.

As Sansa and Willas broke their fast together with Alerie, Leonette and Ser Raymas, Maester Lomys and Garender Oldflowers, Lord Commander of the City Watch of Highgarden and father to Ser Gyles Oldflowers, seized the opportunity to address them.

'I have carefully been tracking the developments in the weather these past few months, and kept notes of the weather further up north, and further down south as well', Maester Lomys said. The old maester trembled as he sat down, his old hands slightly shaking as he took up a scroll. 'Here, I noted down a summary. Yes. I believe we can all agree it has been getting colder, wetter and cloudier for quite some months. Ah, however, I would like to point out that the north of the Reach got their rains and storms about two weeks before us, and the south is only now starting to complain about the frequency of the rain. So we can conclude the bad weather is coming from the North. Of course we know this', he said, tracing his finger along many lines of thin script, looking for his real news.

'But what is useful is that I have found a way to calculate when bad weather will hit us, as I do every winter. I note down weather reports starting in Sow's Horn, going to King's Landing, then Tumbleton, Longtable, Highgarden and Oldtown. Early last month I thought that if I looked two hundred miles up north, I could predict the weather we would have in about a month and a half. The first snow started around Riverrun at the end of the fifth month, this was when we still had contact with it.'

Sansa tried to calculate, but struggled, she had never been great at guessing distances. She believed Riverrun was about nine hundred miles away. Which meant that they would have snow by the end of the ninth month, or the beginning of the tenth. It seemed everyone else was just as curious to follow Maester Lomys' explanation.

'King's Landing had some frost last month. But they had snow two days ago, earlier than when they aught. I knew something strange was going on. My predictions that had been accurate for two months, started being wrong. So I looked at the variables, every month separately, and noticed the weather is accelerating. The weather developed much quicker the past month and a half. The Riverlands gradually became colder since 298, but the Crownlands and us have gone from late summer weather to winter weather in less than eight months. And every months the weather is accelerating in getting cooler. Which means I have to review the pace at which the winter weather is coming towards us every week. Currently since the start of this month, the weather is coming towards us from Longtable in less than a week. I got a report this morning from King's Landing, as well as a letter from your father and sister which I will give you after I finish talking. It has snowed in King's Landing. In about two weeks, we will have snow. Unless it accelerates even further.'

'You are telling us we went from potentially having snow in two months, to two weeks?' Willas asked. 'But the rains aren't even that bad yet.'

Alerie shook her head. In the short winters of the past two decades, real winter months with freezing temperatures and the occasional frost had been sandwiched between long months filled with rain.

'If we're not getting a long rain season, then surely this winter must be very brief and gone within the year?' Alerie asked.

'I do not know, my lady. There's two options really. Winters have been gradually getting shorter, and summers have become longer. So either we're progressing towards a future where there are no more winters. Or, given we had a very long summer that was very hot from the start, followed by a long autumn, we may be looking at a future in which all seasons are longer and extremer in general. So we may be in for a very long winter that skips its mild stage.'

'I see, thank you', Alerie said, looking even more disturbed.

'Actually, if I may', Ser Garender Oldflowers said. 'I have come up to report on some… issues the folk are having in Highgarden city.

'Yes', Willas asked.

'Lightning struck a bakery. Thank the Seven it has rained, the fire was contained to four surrounding houses. Their families have been able to take them in at present. But many families have reported thatched roofs caving in, water leaks and roof tiles flying away. Three squares are dealing with heavy inches deep mud all the carts get stuck in.'

Everyone nodded.

'How many houses in total?' Willas asked.

'Only the houses, my lord, or do you wish to count the shops, stables and workrooms as well?'

Willas' eyebrows rose as he took in the question.

'The total number', he ordered.

'Thirty-five, or it was when I left to report to you.'

Sansa glanced outside through the window, leaves were still flying past, silly playthings to the wind. The rain had not stopped either. Even more people could have lost their homes by now.

'Have you undertaken anything up until now?' Alerie asked.

'We have given those living closest to the squares sandbags to block the mud from coming into their homes. But we can't fix leaks and roofs, not with this weather. It's suicide to climb on a roof.'

'I understand', Alerie nodded.

'We may be having an issue if the weather continues. Currently the people can still move in with neighbours, but it won't be sustainable if many more homes are destroyed. And repairing it will also take time.'

They were looking at having quite a few homeless people, whose jobs might also be destroyed. That hadn't come up in Sansa's education. Willas kept calm, giving a small smile to Ser Oldflowers.

'We will think about it. Inform us if the numbers change.'

'I will do, my lord. I'll just send a bird up, it will be faster.'

'Alright. Thank you.'

No sooner was he out, than Maester Lomys gave Willas the letters. Then conversation burst loose.

'This weather surely can't continue, can it?' Megga asked. 'I swear I can't recall a storm ever lasting so long.'

'Could we have mud streams destroying the ackers that are on the slopes and are still being used for winter vegetables?' Ser Raymas asked.

'What will we do about the villagers?' Leonette asked.

Everyone shot questions, and no one voiced answers.

.

.

.

'We could take them in, for a while', Alerie then suggested. 'And surely the carpenters and thatchers will be glad to be able to have so much work and income once this storm lays down', she decided.

'If they can pay for it', Sansa added. 'Farmers don't have much income right now.'

'They still have quite a lot from their last harvests. They can see it as an investment. If their roofs are made sturdy now, they'll last for the entire winter, when they will be much poorer', Alerie decided.

'Can not anything be done to prevent more roofs from flying away?' Raymas asked.

'Thatched roofs can't be helped much, but panes?'

'Perhaps if heavy things are lain down on top, but we cannot cover every roof with sandbags', Willas reasoned.

'If I may, my lord', Maester Lomys said slowly. 'There are buildings that are more valuable than others. We need to protect the places where people work. If the tools get wet, we may look at more trouble than if someone's house gets drenched.'

'Continue.'

'I think the mud streams too, are problematic. When I was a green boy in the mountainous areas of the Westerlands, mud was a big issue. I suggest all able bodied men of the city get out with empty bags usually made for flour, and fill them with sand, or dirt. They will have to dig for that now, but that matters not. Everyone at the lower parts of the city needs to block their doors with it.'

'But what about the bags then, they will be ruined?' Alerie asked. 'They must eat.'

'We could invite all seamstresses and women who are without house, or fear being without house, to come up to the castle and stitch new ones for flour and new ones for sandbags. Then they will be warm and comfortable, and useful', Sansa suggested.

'Is there ever a time when you don't think inviting women into the castle to sew together isn't part of the solution?' Willas asked with a smile.

'Rarely, my lord', Sansa admitted.

.

.

.

'I will inform Ser Oldflowers and ask for part of the city guard. We will oversee the townmen filling the bags somewhere around the banks of the Mander. If they have not flooded yet', Ser Raymas offered, jumping up.

'May I join you?' Alyn asked. Ser Raymas nodded.

'I shall ask the women after I'm done breaking my fast', Sansa decided.

'I shall join you', Leonette offered.

'As will I', Elinor promised.

'I'm not good at sewing', Megga admitted. 'I would only set everyone back.'

'I was still busy with the expenses of the past week', Lady Alerie said. 'I need to continue on my books and ledgers.'

'Very well, all good necessary work. I thank you', Willas said, giving them a grateful proud smile. But his hand on Sansa's knee told a story of tenseness and frustration. As their lord, he ought to be in the vanguard to help his people, instead having his extended family do the visible helping out. But his knee once again got in the way of it.

Willas opened the scrolls with his knife, chewing on a buttered bun as he read his father's letter.

.

.

.

'Our marriage was addressed in the Small Council, apparently. We are not guilty of treason by marrying, it is decided. As you never took part in your brother's campaign and always professed loyalty to the crown. As all the blame for King Joffrey's murder has been put on Tyrion Lannister and nothing tied you to the crime except through your marriage, which everyone knew was against your wishes and is now annulled, you can no longer be accused of treason. In fact, my father says everyone feels safer knowing you have now reappeared and are married into the most loyal family to the crown.'

The corners of Willas' mouth quirked upwards, even Sansa could not keep herself from an amused smile.

'And then follows a slew of insults for going behind his back, being selfish and entitled, and ruining his plans. But he wishes us many male grandchildren.'

'Of course he does', Alerie smiled. 'Well, good that the family of the queen has not been declared traitorous.'

Willas finished his bun and then ate a piece of eggs before picking up his sister's letter.

'Margaery wishes us all well and congratulates me on marrying: "The sister I wanted to have and told you would suit you well". She writes that she is well cared for and surrounded by kind people. Queen Cersei will go to Casterly the second her daughter arrives in the capitol. She wishes specifically that Leonette has an easy last trimester, that Alyn gets knighted soon, that Sansa gets with child soon, and that mother and grandmother will continue to be in good health.'

'I'm so glad she is safe and well. That's one less thing to worry ab – '

Alerie could not finish her sentence before a shudder could be felt throughout the room, a creaking sound audible even from inside the castle.

'Damn the Stranger, what was that?!' Ser Raymas cried, watching the sky light up very nearby.

But his voice was drowned out by the sharp sound of breaking glass.

Chairs fell backwards and clattered to the ground as all except Willas rushed to the windows.

From the window, they saw a tree had landed on the greenhouse, a big branch breaking through part of the roof. Worse, the tree was on fire because it had been struck by lightning.

.

.

.

'Not the greenhouse', Sansa cried. 'I need to go. I'm so sorry. Leonette, do you fetch the women?'

'Of course.'

Sansa walked back towards Willas.

'I'm so sorry. I need to go.'

'Sansa', Willas grabbed her wrist. She paused, turning back towards her lord husband.

'Be careful, there's others trees still standing there.'

'I'll do my best. But this was my invention. And those women', she shook her head, her eyes flying back towards the window.

'Just remember you come first. You're unmissable here.'

Even if she wanted to pretend it was romantic, it was a very factual sentence as well. She had work to do. Babes to produce. And she was the sole surviving Stark, she had the duty to keep her lineage alive.

'I know.'

She sank to her knees, pressing a kiss against his lips.

'I'll join you as soon as I can.'

All Tyrells flew the private family dining room, shooting into action, leaving only Willas behind. He sighed, looking at the empty table with plates filled with half-eaten food, before he rose to a difficult stand. The wet weather and daily attempt to get an heir had been straining on his knee, much as he tried to be careful. He hobbled over, assessing the damage of the tree.

'Right', he said to himself, hobbling back to the table to retrieve his cane.

'To work then.'

Upon exiting he turned towards the servant that had stood vigil by the door.

'Summon the architect from town, please.'

'Yes, m'lord', the servant said, bowing before running off.

There was work waiting for him upstairs. Enough time had passed so that it was no longer disrespectful to fill in the vacancies left in the Reach army after the Battle of Oldtown. And then it was time to write the official letters summoning the newly appointed lords and heads of houses from the Shield Islands and from the region of Oldtown. He would give them time, of course, especially the lords of the Shield Islands and his cousin in Oldtown had to rebuild their castles, cities and infrastructure. He couldn't demand they dropped everything and undertook the weekslong trip to Highgarden. However, he hadn't met most heirs-turned-lords or newly-appointed families. In the face of a new war, he needed to know, connect and trust his bannermen. War was the perfect time to deepen relationships, reward loyalties, and garner everyone behind you.

He started on the stairs, two full levels upwards. He already didn't look forward to writing all those letters, they would be so monotonous, basically the same but with the names replaced. Perhaps he could let Maester Lomys write them. One less thing to waste time on.

.

.

.

The architect arrived at noon. Pudding lifted her head from where she lay at Willas' feet.

'Easy girl', Willas warned her before looking up. Pudding obediently put her head down again.

'Yes my lord, you summoned me?'

'Ah, good of you to come. I have two questions.'

The man nodded, folding his hands on his back.

'One: what can be done to all structures in Highgarden, both the castle and the city, to protect them from storm damage. Secondly: the greenhouse has been hit by a tree, as you have presumably seen on your way here. Now, I believe the structure was not made with storms in mind. There's other trees near to the greenhouse and I rather we do something else than chop them all. So what can we do to make the structure safer?'

'Right', the architect said. The middle-aged man scratched his balding head.

'I might need to do some research on that. But solutions must exist. Do you happen to have books on the buildings of other regions?'

'In the library, the librarian will be able to point them out to you.'

'Thank you, my lord. It is not that I do not know how to build, but I imagine the Stormlands must build with storms in mind, whereas I rarely deal with such issues.'

'I understand. I hope to hear back of you soon.'

'Yes, my lord', the architect bowed and turned on his heels.

'Oh, and ask the servant to come in on your way out.'

'Yes, my lord.'

Soon after, the servant came in.

'Ask Maester Lomys to come, and fetch my Lady Wife, it is important she does not forget to take her lunch.'

'Yes, m'lord.'

.

.

.

Sansa arrived twenty-five minutes later, drenched to the bone and shivering. Pudding jumped up, happily barking and jumping Sansa's leg, then licking the floor.

'I apologize for dripping all over the floor, I already called for a maid to fetch me some fresh clothes.'

'It's alright. You could have gone to our room and changed first, I would not have minded.'

'Oh, I did not wish to detain you much longer. It smells delicious', she said, looking over at the covered plates on the wheeled in cart.

'How is it?'

Sansa wrung out her hair in front of the fireplace, then peeled off her thick coat.

'Oh, dreadful. But not too bad, I suppose. One of the pretty glass-in-lead panes on the side has broken, and five small glass windows on top. But because we opted for small glass windows in a sturdy iron frame, we only need to replace the small broken windows instead of one very large broken one. And it also contained the damage. Should we have had one big glass window, it would have shattered completely, and the entire garden would have been covered in glass. Now it's only underneath the broken windows.'

'I see. That is good.'

Willas joined Sansa and helped undo her laces, which had turned almost impossible to undo now that they were wet.

'Indeed, and luckily enough it was not above the fountain. Not that it is easy to manually pluck all tiny shards from between the trees and bushes, but it would be harder to get them out of water, and more dangerous.'

'I can imagine. Is everyone fine?' he asked as he helped peel the dress and underdress off her.

'Oh yes, I forgot to say. I apologize. Yes, everyone is fine. Nobody was inside yet.'

'Good', Willas decided as he put his coat over Sansa's shivering body. 'I asked the architect for ways to protect the structure in the future.'

'Oh, and what did he say?'

'That he would do research', Willas smiled. 'Obviously, he did not have a plan at the ready.'

'Of course. I must admit, our greenhouse in Winterfell was near trees as well. It wouldn't have fared much better. In fact, it had even less stone on the sides than this one, so it would have been off worse.'

'Ah, so we are still the superior architects.'

'The North was home to Bran the Builder, who do you have to make such a bold claim?'

'It is acknowledged by all, especially the most well-travelled, that the beauty of the architecture of the Reach is unparalleled, even if except for the Hightower we cannot call upon the mystique of ancient legends to make our buildings sound impressive.'

'Is the superior architect the one who builds the most beautiful buildings, or the one whose buildings manage to withstand the wrath of gods, men, weather and time?' Sansa asked with a subversive smile.

'How coy you are, my lady, and how confident. It depends upon the criteria one is judging buildings by. Storm's End will never win a beauty competition', Willas smiled.

A maid arrived, quickly helping Sansa in dry smallclothes, a thick shift and a warm dress. Within minutes, her hair got the back of her dark blue dress wet, but Sansa paid it no mind as she sat down in front of the table.
They ate their way through creamy mushroom soup and lamb meatballs in a rich wine sauce while they talked about their mornings.

.

.

Halfway through their second course Ser Garender Oldflowers returned.

'My lord, my lady, I'm afraid to say that four more buildings have had their roofs partially destroyed, and a tree has landed on another.'

Sansa bit her lip, worry clouding her eyes.

'How about your endeavours this morning?' Willas asked.

'We covered all the wells, we thought rain water might not do them good. So they are safe. And the men have been steadily carrying in bags of sand. But we need many more still. At this pace I predict we will still be busy tomorrow, but afterwards, we will be finished.'

'That is good to hear, I thank you.'

'My lord', Sansa spoke, mindful that Ser Oldflowers was present. 'Might we already consider opening up perhaps some empty servant quarters or a hallway that is not used a lot for the people to sleep? If more homes are destroyed the other peasants will not be able to help them out. I believe they would appreciate that.'

'Yes, naturally. It's going at way too high a rate. We will have families needing a roof to sleep under by this night', Willas agreed.

'I shall overlook it', Sansa offered.

Once Willas nodded, she looked up at Ser Garender.

'You may tell those that cannot find a place to sleep with their families, can come to the castle by tonight around supper. Should they lose their homes the coming night, they can come all throughout the night.'

'Yes, my lady', Ser Garender said, looking very relieved and delighted. 'I thank you.'

Sansa nodded gracefully.

.

.

.

'These are busy days', Sansa said once ser Oldflowers left.

'Indeed. I wish we could have had some easy time after our wedding, perhaps some pleasant weather. We only had some peaceful days here and there. Fool's dreams', he smirked at his own stupidity.

'It matters not', Sansa comforted him. 'We're not having a bad time when we are together, we're just… busy, most days. At least we shall not grow bored.'

'Oh, I doubt I'd grow bored with you even if I had nothing to do, my lady', Willas smiled.

'You would spend entire days trying to beat me at cyvasse and talking about history.'

'Not only history, also the stars and flowers and culture.'

Sansa laughed heartily.

'Perhaps I would lose my attention and just start playing with Pudding after less than five hours', Sansa said, smiling at their dog who now slept in front of the fireplace, half an inch away from the puddle of water Sansa had created.

'You wound me', Willas smiled.

'Right, I will get started on the sleeping places then', Sansa decided.

The pair said their goodbyes before resuming their work.

.

.

.

Sansa was overseeing the placing of stacks of furs, pillows and blankets on the floor, sending servants here and there, when Amaryllis came up to her.

The blonde girl was wet, hair plastered to her forehead, yet she managed a smile.

'Amaryllis, hello! Oh, I missed you. I've been so busy, I apologize.'

'Sansa', she greeted.

'Oh, what is it?' Sansa asked.

'It's nothing it's just I wondered…' and then the smile fell off her face. 'It's my mother. Her house got hit by a tree this morning and – '

Sansa pulled her friend to the side, waving off a servant that was approaching her.

'It's wrecked her bedroom, and her downstairs was already ruined due to mud', Amaryllis continued. 'We didn't have an upstep or anything you see, so now she doesn't have a single room she can use to sleep and – she's frail of health. I've immediately run over to check whether she was still fine this morning and thank the Mother I was with her, because we were downstairs talking when the tree fell on the house. If I hadn't been there, she would still have been in bed. We tried salvaging and storing as much as possible downstairs, and then I helped pack her clothes and got her here so she could be with me.'

Sansa pulled her friend in for a hug, being shaken along with her as she sobbed.

'I'm so sorry to hear about your mother. Is she alright?'

'She's shaken. And she's not in the best health. You couldn't leave her out in the rain for an hour, you know?' Amaryllis laughed.

Sansa managed a slim smile.

'Can I help with anything?'

'My bed's a bit small for two, but I can manage, I think', Amaryllis said.

'But you needn't', Sansa said, guiding her friend towards the hall.

'See, we were already working on something.'

'Oh my, Sansa!' Amaryllis turned towards her again. I can't believe… You're a lady of dreams. Is this for the people whose houses have been – '

' – until the storm blows over and something can be done about their roofs or the mud.'

'That is amazing. I can sleep here, I think. I won't let my mother sleep on the floor. Not that I'm ungrateful, really, honestly, but she is quite old so I don't think sleeping that low is good for her.'

'No, my lady-in-waiting should not sleep on the floor in a hall', Sansa decided.

'Take my old bedroom. It has not been given to anyone else yet.'

'Oh but I can't.'

'I'm telling you that you can, who else can decide about that, it's my room.'

'Lady Florianne and Lady Alerie might still be the ones in charge of the room allotment but you're right. I doubt your room has been given up yet.'

'Then take it. Please. I need you to have a good rest, how else will you be able to serve me at your best ability?' Sansa asked, raising an eyebrow.

'You are the Mother incarnate, you know that?'

'Not completely', Sansa laughed.

'All in good time, all in good time', Amaryllis assured her. 'I do not doubt it.'

.

.

.

'My lord, dinner will soon be served in the hall', Amor announced.

'Yes, thank you. I will finish soon', Willas said, waving away his servant.

A letter from the North, having arrived after a two week trip, mentioned that Rhaegar and Jared Frey had disappeared.

'I'd almost start believing those ghost stories about Lady Catelyn', Willas mused. The issue of Edmure's lordship in the Riverlands would at this rate solve itself before the month was over.

Willas sat up straight, rolling his shoulders backwards. There was a tensity there that told him he had sat hunched over his desk for too long. Thinking on it, his stomach felt kind of empty. Hadn't a served alerted him that it was time to go downstairs? He turned around, looking at the window, eyes growing when he saw how dark the sky was.

Uttering a curse he rose, quickly grabbing his cane on the way out. He hoped he hadn't missed supper.

The two guards outside his room straightened as he left, but further, the hallway was mostly deserted. There hung a silence that was always only there during dinnertime and night time.

The only sound was the rain beating down the many windows beside the grand marble staircase.

'Buggering rain', he cursed, starting his three story descent.

The second floor was truly empty, no one stood at his mother's chambers. At least they were all still downstairs then, he reasoned. It was dark in the hallway, few candles burning in the chandeliers.

'Servants are slow', he muttered to himself. Usually they lit the entirety of the chandeliers while everyone was having dinner. But perhaps they were very busy with all that had to be done due to the storm, like Sansa's and Leonette's projects. It didn't matter, he saw enough.

Or so he thought. What he did not see, was that there were some small windows missing where a stray roof tile that had been picked up by the wind had smashed against the glass, before falling down the side of the castle.

When Willas, focussed on making a quick descend, put down his cane, he shifted his weight. The cane slipped across the wet stair, and with his full weight, Willas fell, throwing his hands up just in time to shield his face. His legs slid over the wet marble until finally, he came to a halt.

.

.

.

'My lady', a servant said, coming up to Sansa.

Half of the table had not even noticed his presence, Megga, Elinor, Leonette chatting amongst themselves, but Alerie, Lady Fossoway and Ser Raymas did shoot her a curious glance. But her face told them nothing, she had no idea why the servant had appeared. Perhaps to tell her that her Lord Husband would not make it down for dinner. Somewhere deep down, she was not surprised. He had rarely made it downstairs before he married her, but she was disappointed as it would be his first time during their marriage he had forsaken dining with her.

With a nod, the servant came closer to her, so only she could hear as he whispered in her ear.

'Some guests have arrived, asking for you and Lord Willas.'

'We were not expecting any guests.'

'I know, my lady. Usually, we would have seen them coming and reported upon it, but with the storm we had a hard time keeping track of who entered the gates.'

That did not strike Sansa as particularly safe. It was in times of duress that murderers and spies would try to sneak in.

'What names did they give?'

'They refused to give any, my lady, but they said they were from the Stormlands. At present we are keeping them in the hallway, surrounded by guards.'

'As well you should, they should have never made it to the castle in the first place', Sansa said, panic managing to take control of her. The urge to apologize for her outburst stung her lips, but she swallowed it down. She could not apologize to a servant.

'From where did you say they were?'

'From the Stormlands', the servant repeated.

Sansa's mouth fell open. That could only mean one thing.

'Show me to them at once', she ordered, taking a final swig of wine before she rose.

She straightened her shoulders, walking through the great hall with a smile on her face, gracefully nodding at those who looked her way.

Who would have come? Not Aegon, for sure.

Why would they come, if Olenna was already there? They must have already been on their way here at the same time Lady Olenna started going east.

No sooner was one of the doors to the hall opened, or she entered a cold world, where the freezing wind that came from between the great entrance doors slipped beneath her skirt. Servants stood at every corner, and there, right at the door, five guards with two small figures hidden behind them. Sansa took a step towards them when a cry came from up above.

'Help! Help! It's Lord Willas!'

Instantly, six servants and Sansa picked up their skirts, rushing upstairs.

'I'm fine, I'm ouch –' she could hear the voice of her lord husband.

'Willas?' she called.

At the bottom of the staircase leading from the second floor to the first, sat Lord Willas, hands covered in blood, with a pained expression on his face.

'What happe – '

'Stop!' Willas called out. 'There's glass on the floor.'

Sansa paused, knees just inches above the floor at his side. She straightened, indeed taking in small shards of glass around him.

'What happened?' she asked, ignoring all the fumbling servants around him with brooms and trays, removing the glass.

'Something must have broken the window, causing it to rain inside', a servant said before Willas could open his mouth.

'My lord – '

'Help me up', he ordered.

Sansa and the servant each pulled him upright by a shoulder, careful not to touch his hands that could still contain shards of glass.

One tentative step told her Willas would need support now that he could not support on his cane.

'Call Maester Lomys', Sansa ordered to one of the maids.

'Certainly, m'lady', the woman said, rushing away.

'To my mother's solar', Willas ordered.

As they made their way forward, commotion could be heard on the stairs and below, but Sansa cared not.

'Are you fine?'

'Not really, no', he grunted. 'But it's just scraps and bruises. Nothing I haven't had before.'

.

.

.

'You should have told her the maester needed to bring tweezers and ointments', a sweet voice called out.

Sansa paused, leading to Willas groaning at the loss of support.

At the top of the stairs stood two figures, one a pale lady with shining golden hair and a demure robe, the other was a person with teak coloured skin wearing a maester's chain. Two guards appeared beside them, panting as they seized their arms.

'We apologize', a third guard panted.

They really needed to up the security.

'Our guests from the Stormlands?' Sansa questioned.

'One of us is', the dark one said.

'I am from the Stormlands, I happen to be carrying tweezers and lotions', the young woman said, lifting her cloak to reveal an inside that was filled with filled pockets.

'And I have a silver chain', the young man with the light always amused voice said.

Sansa could not deny seeing the silver. But it could be stolen. It could be faked.

'I demand your names.'

'We do not believe you want us to name ourselves here', the girl replied.

Willas looked between the two, but his eyes remained stuck on the young man.

'Let them come', he decided.

The two young people smiled at the guards before following the Tyrells into the solar.

The servant carefully brushed off Willas' back and breeches, making sure there were no remaining shards of glass on them before he sat down. Then the went about lighting even more candles.

.

.

.

'My lord Tyrell, I am sorry to not find you well', the blonde girl replied, taking off her cloak and spreading it out on a table. She threw a pair of tweezers at the young man, who, in the better light, looked quite… feminine?

Sansa remained close, putting her hand on Willas' shoulder.

'And I am sorry to receive people in this fashion', Willas said, wincing when the curly haired person pulled a shard of glass from his hand.

'You said only one of you was from the Stormlands', Sansa said, looking at the person attending to her husband in what looked to be genuine care.

'I am from the Citadel. I decided that in the present climate I would not be able to do a lot of learning anyway. So i decided to serve in other ways.'

'I came downstream', the blonde girl explained, rifling through her pockets looking at her ointments. 'I travelled upwards. We are going to the Stormlands together after our stop here', the person with the dark skin and smiling eyes said.

'My lord, any other way I can be of assistance?'

'No, you may leave us.'

Sansa wondered whether it was wise to remain behind with two people who had enough medicinal knowledge to kill them, but perhaps there was a kind of secrecy needed.

Once the door closed, Willas straightened.

'You look just like your father', he said, looking down at the person before him.

'So I have been told, his genes are quite dominant.'

'How can you be at the citadel?'

'Old men have poor sight, and see what they are told to see. To them, I was just Alleras.'

Willas snorted. 'Sarella, then. I did not know which one you were.'

Sarella? That was a woman's name. But who was she? And who did she look like?

'How could you know? You never came around to visit again.'

'My family was a bit hesitant to let me return to Dorne', Willas smiled.

'Drink this, it will ease the pain', the blonde woman instructed.

'If you are together, I take it you are Tyene then? He only had one blonde daughter' Willas asked.

'I am', the girl smiled. 'Father always said you were observant.'

Father? What father?

'Drink.'

'I'm afraid I can't really trust that.'

'I would not poison you, my lord. You are still so useful to us, and have been a good friend. If we killed you, we would ruin the support our king already had in your family.'

So they were indeed connected to Aegon.

'Who is to say your king would not like to end this house, and put another in charge?'

'At this point, that is not in his plans yet. And, for the love we share for my father, I would not kill you in such a manner. I only mean well.'

Sarella picked up Willas' hand, pressing his palms and fingers until clean red blood seeped out. She wiped a soft finger across his hand. 'Feel anything anywhere still?'

'No.'

'Good, me neither.'

She picked up his other hand and repeated it.

'Here.'

Sarella accepted a lotion from Tyene, gently patting it on Willas' hands.

'Thanks, sister.'

Sisters. Served King Aegon. One was clearly from Dorne. Willas knew their father. So he had to be high born. She'd only ever heard him speak of one… Oh god. Sandsnakes. She was dealing with the sandsnakes.

'To steep the blood and seal the wounds', Tyene explained to Willas.

'You clearly inherited his love for potions.'

'We all must take after our parents in some ways. I am proud to have learned from him', the girl replied demurely.

Sansa was simply shocked. This girl looked like an angel, with an almost Lannister-like beauty. She had difficulty imagining she came forth from the loins of Oberyn Martell.

'Oberyn was a wise man. I am grateful you have learned from him', Willas said. 'Thank you for your services.'

'It is a pleasure to be of use. '

'Alright', Willas said, more to himself than to anyone in particular. She saw her husband straighten his shoulders, and knew he was getting back to his usual self.

'Sansa, could you take the wine and some goblets?'

She rose silently, taking all he asked.

'I heard you would be bringing Princess Myrcella to King's Landing.'

'It was asked of me, and I will do so, once the time is right to deliver her. For now, awful winds have kept us from arriving. We had to pause at Storm's End until further notice', the girl innocently replied.

Sansa put down the cups and filled them with red wine.

Tyene took a sip, smiling at Willas. 'See, I trust you.'

'We are not prone to poisoning our own wines, especially when we're not expecting company', Willas smiled.

Sansa bit her cheek, this conversation was becoming more and more like the laden conversations of King's Landing. A chill chased down her spine, ghosts of Lord Baelish's advice still whispering in her ears.

'Indeed, awful weather is everywhere these days', Willas agreed.

'Unfortunately. I do miss the climate of Dorne', Tyene sighed.

'Oh, but where are my manners? My lord, my lady, I have yet to congratulate you on your marriages. You make a most beautiful couple. I must admit I was surprised to hear of it, after all, I could not recall an engagement or the two of you meeting before.'

'We had spent quite some time together the past months', Willas replied smoothly. 'You can understand that offering shelter to an enemy of the crown is better done quietly.'

'Naturally', Tyene smiled.

'I lost some coin three weeks ago, I bet your father would choose a Hightower or a Rowan for you, as historically, marriage within the Reach always delivers fruitful unions. The history of the Reach always fascinated me, it's what first drew me to Oldtown', Sarella explained, twirling her copper chain around her fingers.

'I chose the match myself, my father was far away.'

'It must be a love match then', Tyene reasoned. Sansa was fascinated by the lilt in her voice.

'It was. She was there for me through some very trying times, offering counsel and comfort. I would not wish to insult my father, or the king, by choosing my own match in a normal time, but if one is the last remaining heir, childless, one cannot be blamed for ignoring politics and choosing a spouse that suits them well as soon as possible', he answered, trying to work his full charm whilst maintaining his guard.

'Our king has reasons to distrust a family that decides to ally itself with both Starks and Baratheons, but he is a reasonable ruler. He knows families cannot be blamed for making certain choices when his family was presumed to be practically extinct.'

Sansa's eyebrows rose at how she suddenly switched techniques and played it straight.

'On the contrary, my lord husband chose me fully conscious of your king's presence. He chose himself a wife who supported his vision, and dreams of a king who called for peace instead of war and greed. We who have seen so much destruction caused by the last three monarchs want to see this world become a better place than the one our parents left for us', Sansa replied.

Tyene cocked her head, appraising Sansa for a few seconds before smiling.

'My sweet cousin would like you. She too dreams of such a world.'

Tyene took another sip of her wine.

'I wanted to speak to you both, and as we are all waiting and preparing in Storm's End, I thought I could spare a short trip. Especially since I would be picking up my sister anyways. There are things that your grandmother would not be able to communicate to you through letter, or it would be a long tedious back-and forth. Then I can take your answers back with me.'

Willas nodded.

'By all means', he said, putting his hand softly on top of Sansa's.

'Ask away.'