'So, why should we trust that a family who controls the small council and sits upon the throne will dethrone itself? Our King's councillors have some concern that all information would be given to the small council so they could prepare better for our King's arrival', Tyene asked.

A crack sounded right above the tower, followed by a full-throated rumble that seemed to shake the foundations of the keep.

Sansa looked over to her lord husband, but if he was nervous, he did not let it show. Instead he smiled, though his eyes still looked strained with pain. He did not hurry to answer her, instead taking a deep swallow of wine.

'First of all, why would I even offer to join your side if I did not have my reasons?'

'To hear us out. Spies and fake friends are, unfortunately, more common than well intentioned people. Not that I should wish to accuse you, my lord, but others have instilled distrust upon me', Tyene replied.

'Very well, then. I shall present the issue as logical as I think it is', Willas nodded.

'First. I suppose my family will still, in return for our loyalty, get certain high functions.'

'But why would we promise these, as you have not yet shown loyalty?'

'Because we are in a good position. No matter who wins, we are the grain shed of Westeros and have the largest army. Both the Baratheon king and the Targaryen king need us to win. We are the largest remaining force of Westeros, and the current supplier of almost all food in King's Landing. Without us, King's Landing will go hungry and riot, and their force won't be strong enough to withstand your invasion. You may be able to ransack our borders, but this will give us time to set up our forces. You'll lose your numbers and will never be able to conquer King's Landing. So as long as we support the crown, you can't win. If we support you our lands, people and valuable food stocks will be left intact which is a plus for us now that's its winter. Secondly, we have the largest army which you will need to win. We are also the only other region that would be willing to support you. The Iron Islands are almost destroyed. The North is too far, and since you just critiqued my marriage because I married a Northerner you already hinted you weren't going to ask the North for support. The Westerlands won't support you, the Crownlands are under direct control of the king and the Riverlands are completely depleted. Aside from Dorne, we're it. We're your best chance at winning. So we deserve a proportional reward for our loyalty.'

Sarella downed her drink and filled her cup again, her sister's smile had finally faded.

'This may be true. But how will you support us when your father is the real lord? He may judge differently about who ought to sit on the iron throne, and then all our deals are for naught, we will suffer great losses while your region keeps its prominent position without loss', Sarella said.

It was the sore point, and they had found it quickly. It was impossible not to notice the giant flaw in the their plan. Willas was just about as powerful as Edmure Tully right now, worse even, as whilst Edmure was without a current reigning Lord Paramount appointed by the crown, Willas still had his father reigning from King's Landing.

'My father doesn't know of anything.'

'Yet, to support our military will require either you or your father send a message to your bannermen. And if you send one, and anyone cares to check up on it with your father… Well.'

Willas took a sip of wine.

'Perhaps we could use some refreshments, you've had a long day of travelling', Sansa decided, jumping up and leaving the room to demand food and guards at the door.

'My father is a reasonable man. He has no issue changing sides as long as he gets rewarded for it.'

'Your father is a clever man, he won't settle for any less influence than he has today. Which is a queen on the throne, a grandchild as next heir to the throne, and full control of the small council', Sarella pointed out.

Her husband leaned back in his seat, watching the two ladies.

'And your king cannot or will not give us that?'

Sansa tried to keep in her surprise. She had believed Willas disliked how their father had used Margaery as a pawn for three marriages and feared for his sister as long as she was in the capital.

'I believe it is not giving anything away when I say Dorne has always remained loyal to the Targaryens, and will be rewarded for that.'

'So… Arianne will be marrying Aegon', Willas concluded.

When no one said a thing, Willas continued. 'I did not know the heir to Dorne could be spared?'

'She has brothers. She never minded ruling a part of the kingdom other than her own', Tyene said, looking at Willas with a curious smile that got Sansa suspicious as to what lay behind it.

'Well, good for her.'

'We thought about you and your family though. Me and mine, who have more experience with your family than our king does, prepared some proposals. If you care to hear.'

Willas lifted his hands, signing that he was patiently waiting.

Tyene got up, walking over to the windows and observing the raging storm.

'Such a storm. It reminds me of one six-and-ten years ago. Do you recall how it wrecked so many ships out at sea that night? The evening the last dragon was born?'

'Over here at Highgarden, it was quite peaceful, just rainy', Willas replied.

'She is out there somewhere, across the narrow sea. The mother of dragons, they call her. My nephew has gone over to look for her. It's been a while since we heard from him, but you can guess what our Prince Doran sent him for. If she does not marry him, we need to remain open to the possibility of her becoming a sister-wife to our king.'

Willas did not speak.

And so, neither did Sansa.

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Words of Baelish run through her mind.

'In King's Landing, there are two sorts of people. The players and the pieces.'

Tyene, with her gentle looks and compassionate words was, underneath it all, a player. That was clear. The way she spoke so lightly, yet implied so much, the way she swung from sweet to business, told her as much. But the way she behaved was odd. It was as if Margaery's manners had been paired with Baelish's words. But Littlefinger would have never been so open about his plans, hopes and beliefs.

'Always keep your foes confused. If they are never certain who you are or what you want, they cannot know what you are like to do next. Sometimes the best way to baffle them is to make moves that have no purpose, or even seem to work against you. Remember that, Sansa, when you come to play the game.'

'Everyone wants something, Alayne. And when you know what a man wants you know who he is, and how to move him.'

Sansa tried to reconcile the advice with what she was now seeing, trying to find an explanation for it all. Perhaps, it could be explained with that she wasn't a well-practised player. Cersei believed herself to be a powerful queen, and was indeed quite manipulative, but Baelish had been right in calling her rash emotions and predictable impulsive actions her downfall. And one indeed never had to wonder as to what she wanted.

But then she thought again, and came to wonder what Tyene had exactly informed them of. She did not state what she wanted, except for the obvious: wanting Aegon on the throne. And then she only informed Willas he could not get what he want, a marriage to the future king for his sister. Why would she say that if she knew such a promise, even if they planned on going back to it later, might seal his cooperation?

'There is another son, of course, who will be the brother-in-law to the king. Your sister could be Trystane's princess. There is something poetic in your sister who managed to escape being killed by the Faith because of Cersei Lannister marrying someone the Lannisters planned on killing as well.'

Willas and Sansa perked up at that.

'Another person? At this point I wonder how there is anyone of the great families still alive', Willas joked.

'What – why?' Sansa asked Tyene.

The lady turned around, her next words soft without the awful venomous honey her voice had before.

'Myrcella had a little riding accident in Dorne, for which she blamed us. We were to bring her daughter back, and on the same boat Prince Doran and Prince Trystane were supposed to be. He was supposed to be welcomed for a visit, and Prince Doran was offered a seat on the Small Council. She planned on, during the trip, having someone murder our dear little prince. She planned on blaming it on your old husband.'

Sansa's stomach turned. The sheer ruthlessness of it all. Not to speak of the depths she went to incriminate Tyrion.

'Yes, we were also unhappy to hear of it', Tyene said in response to Sansa's expression.

'It is good you found out, and better even that you could do something about it', Sansa said, clasping her hands together so hard her nails hurt the soft pads of her hands.

'The crimes of the Lannisters have been numerous. Why anyone would still support them is beyond my comprehension', Sarella said.

'Every family has committed crimes against other families, sometimes single murder, sometimes an attack against entire families. But even so, such acts one cannot be proud of. I cannot say my family is without blame. We've waged war against a king as well, once before. But still, I cannot recount the time we ruthlessly went after children. Or our own. And never did my father talk proudly of the casualties of war,' Sansa brought out.

The room was silent as they looked at her. She turned to Willas. His hands were folded under his chin as he looked at her, and then nodded. Allowing her to continue.

'I hope your new king will not blame Westeros for sticking with the Lannisters. Speaking as someone who almost lost her entire family to plots of the Lannisters, not only including the Starks but also my Tully uncle, as someone who lived in fear they would one day dispose of me, someone whose goodsister was also almost murdered in a ploy… It's enough.'

She kept her eyes on Willas, watching for any sign he wanted her to stop. Then she would quiet immediately.

'We have had enough too. You ask us why would turn our backs on them despite having a queen on the throne and control over the small council… this is the reason. Anyone knows the Lannisters are lethal as enemies, as the graves of my family can attest, so right now we have to endure a partnership even though we know it is no guarantee they won't harm my Lord Husband's family further.'

Tyene came closer again, sitting on the edge of the table. Something aching to sympathy brewed behind her eyes.

But Sarella's eyes were still lifted in some eternal mysterious amusement when she said: 'Every day, I'm feeling more inclined to hold a public execution after listing all their crimes and plots.'

'That is for our king to decide', Tyene said, dismissing her sister.

'So we are the least lethal option?' Tyene asked Sansa and Willas.

Sansa swallowed. Silly her, she'd given her motif to Tyene, now she could manipulate them. Foolish, she'd just recalled Baelish's advice.

Willas shrugged.

'It would benefit us, but currently we are in no further danger from the Lannisters either. Tommen is married to my sister and Cersei will be sent to the Rock once Myrcella arrives at King's Landing', he downplayed Sansa.

'But we wouldn't be sorry to see them go either. As my wife said, their list of crimes against her family is long.'

'Yes, indeed it is. Perhaps one could even say your family has paid enough for its allegiance to King Robert, after the way his supposed heirs and wife mistreated your family so.'

Sansa felt that stab, but let it slight with ease. Tyene was years late to insult her by calling her a traitor and joking about her dead family. She was used to hearing everything, and showing nothing.

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'Your family even rebelled against the crown of the usurper kings.'

Sansa nodded.

'And my still living family, who loves me, might do so again if I ask. The Riverlands, the Vale…' she spoke slowly, keeping eye contact with Tyene.

'Your uncle is not the lord paramount of the Riverlands.'

'Yet', Sansa said, clenching her teeth together. It was bold to even suggest it. But surely Tyene would know her uncle had taken back his castle and that the Riverlands were rebelling.

She was bluffing and overplaying her hand with how far her influence went. Indeed Sweetrobin was her cousin, and had loved her, but he believed she was Alayne. On top of that he was a child, his advisors would be ruling in his stead for years to come. And Edmure had told her he could do little, especially in his current situation. But Tyene needn't know that. Strictly speaking, the possibility her family would follow her pleas was there, and that meant the Targaryen king would potentially face two more regions not taking up arms against him.

'Would the North support a Stark, should we get rid of that Lannister-appointed Bolton?' Tyene asked, cocking her head.

'The North has suffered a lot in the war. And it's winter. I cannot ask any military support if that is what you are asking. And I am married, my duty lies here.'

'But would they?' Tyene pressed.

'The North will always support the Starks. Their loyalty has been unwavering. I dare say even now, you will find supporters of House Stark in the North', Sansa said.

'You have a half-brother, on the wall, is it not?'

Jon, her mind sung.

She had written to him the day before, finally. She had apologized for the way she treated him in her youth, that she had reviewed her prejudices and opinions, said life had made her value the family she had more and was hoping to build an acquaintance with him.

The brother she'd always had, but never felt she needed. The last remaining Stark man, even if he did not have the name.

'Yes.'

'In Dorne it is not unheard of to have bastards inheriting the titles and lands if no legitimate relatives are found.'

'He's a man of the night's watch. He has taken a vow.'

Tyene shrugged.

'So many vows have been broken.'

Sansa was baffled at what she was suggesting. A reinstatement of the Starks at Winterfell. Recognition for her brother. A future for house Stark which didn't rely on her getting a second son and waging war against the crown to get him installed in Winterfell. Regardless of that she as the last legitimate Stark ought to inherit, her heart pulsed at the possibility that was so temptingly offered.

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'You see, we can do many things to repay your loyalty. We can punish our mutual enemies. Restore your families. They have rebelled enough that we know they do not support the current regime.'

'So my sister in Dorne, and my lady wife's families restored to power. Is that the offer?' Willas asked.

'You'll get your small council seat for the Reach, or seats, if the houses underneath you are particularly compliant and useful', Tyene said.

It did sound reasonable, influential, and safe. More power also meant more of their family in the capital. Which meant more people in a dangerous city wherein they could be killed. Who would they even send? Willas lost his brothers and didn't have children. A position in the capital would mean he and Sansa had to leave the Reach. But she was certain Willas was about as recalcitrant to set foot there as she was herself.

At that point, someone knocked on the door. Sansa accepted, taking over the cart while not letting them see into the room. Tyene came beside her to help load casseroles and pots filled with pea pudding, stewed rabbit, leeks, carrots, turnips and honeyed chicken onto the table. Plates were distributed amongst them, and pitchers of sweat plum wine that complimented the honey and rosemary of all dishes was passed along.

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'Let's now talk about investments on your side', Tyene said as she poured her sister's wine.

Willas nodded, pushing his fingers together until they cracked while a polite smile remained on his face. Sansa had never finished her own meal so she stacked some sweet grilled vegetables onto her plate with some meat.

'Naturally, do continue.'

'We do not want big armies marching past towns and so forth. We want our element of surprise, so no troupes can be gathered… Yours are, as I know it now, scattered across the Reach, with some still holing up at the edge of the Crownlands and near Storm's End, although Lord Rowan has retreated a bit more the past few weeks now that we managed to fill the castle to the brim with our army.'

Willas affirmed this was correct.

'Boats would be most useful', Tyene said.

Willas turned to look at Sarella. 'You said you came from Oldtown.'

'I did', the smiled.

'Then you know how much ships were wrecked', he decided.

'I do. The big fleets were destroyed. But there's still some to be had, for sure?'

'I will write to my grandfather Lord Hightower', Willas agreed. 'If anyone can find ships, it is him. Unless our pleasure barges and small riverships are more to your liking?' Willas asked Tyene.

'At least fifteen ships, size irrelevant, loaded with soldiers, would be good to start with, for our next move. Further demands on your men would be given in time.'

Tyene swallowed a couple of bites of tender beef, turned to Sansa to compliment their kitchen, and then turned to Willas with a perfectly sincere expression.

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'I'm afraid you will have to make your father step down and succeed him as ruling Lord of the Reach', she said.

A needle could be heard falling to the ground. Sansa looked at her husband, who kept his gaze fixed firmly onto Tyene.

'Why?' he asked with great calm.

It was in moments like this she was surprised by the dichotomy of her husband. He had destroyed entire rooms in rage whenever someone hurt his family. Yet, in public, he was always so calm and composed. She remembered how kind and jovial he had been when she first met him, before he opened up to her emotionally. He never showed how much everything affected him, always polite, never intense in emotion. He was so different in private. Sansa chewed on some carrots to keep her face occupied with anything but an expression that showed her emotion.

'You claim to be loyal to us. Your father is loyal to the crown.'

'My father has switched sides before, you know this.'

'Yes. I can even count the number of times', Tyene said. 'Everyone knows. It would be a clear break with the past if he quit politics. Our king wants Westeros to change. He wants to ring in a new era of peace and prosperity, ridding the realm of warring lords with questionable loyalty who never went longer than twenty years without plunging their smallfolk into another war for their own gain. Now it is up to the young heirs who grew up in violence to put an end to it.'

They were testing his loyalty, Sansa realized.

Her husband's hands turned white as he grabbed the armrests of his chair, he winced when he pressed his wounds against the wood.

'If we want loyalty, which I understand, and peace, I wonder how a son usurping his father will be a good look. I will look ambitious and ruthless. My father is well loved, my lords and smallfolk may rise against me, and then we are far from our goal', Willas explained with a careless shrug. He detached his hands from his armrest, curling them around his cutlery before taking another bite.

'Oh dear… We didn't think of that I'm afraid. We were merely thinking about it from a practical top-down sort of way. I suppose it's indeed a problem.'

'But is it solvable? That is the question', Sarella said, wiping the thick gravy with a chunk of bread.

Sansa thought deep and hard, but Tyene spoke first.

'Of course it is. You can say it was us. As long as you portray us as reasonable.'

'How would you like me to say it?' Willas asked, deciding to hear her out before giving his opinion on the proposal.

'You can show your pragmatism, strength and love for your people by saying: "The Targaryen king allowed me to choose between peace or fire and blood. I did not want my people to suffer an attack from both the Stormlands and Dorne in Winter so I chose peace. King Aegon is not unreasonable, he does not blame the Reach for working with the Baratheons, but simply doesn't trust the most faithful allies of the Baratheon kings." And your father just so happened to be the great architect of the last two Baratheon marriages and the latest small council.'

Willas snorted. 'You'd be surprised. We didn't propose that marriage. At least not the first.'

'No? Then who?' Tyene asked.

Willas laughed, looking at the table and looking a lot more relaxed than he probably was. Sansa understood he fed them secrets to gain their trust.

'Why, Lord Baelish of course. There's not a plot in the past five years that didn't have his fingerprints all over it.'

'Yes, the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands and the current regent of the Vale did spend a lot of time in the Red Keep, didn't he?' Tyene asked. 'What is your experience with him?'

'He was a childhood friend of my mother', Sansa spoke. 'He is incredibly clever, probably the most dangerous man in Westeros. The only one he ever saw as a rival was Varys. One cannot climb up from being a mere backwater lord of a crumbling old tower to master of coin and lord paramount without a great deal of cunning.'

'What did he do, aside from broker marriages?'

'Plotted murders', Sansa said, deciding that if she didn't spill the truth they might consider him an interesting ally. 'Jon Arryn. My aunt Lysa Tully. Even my little cousin Robyn was deliberately given such strong doses of milk of the poppy he became frailer than his already delicate constitution set him up for. He even tried to poison my former lord husband, but that failed.'

'So he is not a Lannister supporter?' Tyene reasoned.

'He supported everyone who was beneficial to him. In truth, he only supports himself. He had no quarrel with the Lannisters. But he wanted my husband gone so he could use me as a key to the North and the Riverlands. He planned on marrying me in a way that united the Vale, the North and the Riverlands. And he would have used me to reign over the three.'

'Oh.'

And that was the first time, Sansa supposed, Tyene had been surprised in a while.

Tyene was quiet for a while while the rest ate.

'You said your uncle wasn't lord of the Riverlands yet. What did you mean by that?' Tyene then asked.

'I think, Lord Baelish is about to be trialled in the Vale. For certain crimes.'

'Is a lord paramount not the jurisdiction of the king?'

'They must have found clauses in the law to allow for it', Sansa shrugged, feigning ignorance. 'I was only aware as far as I was asked to give my account of certain events. They want to keep it local and discreet.'

'And you aided them, despite that he would have made you so powerful?'

'I was a pawn. I would always be used, instead of powerful', Sansa replied calmly. 'I'm a believer in justice. In honour. The secret illegal unhonourable ways in which Lord Baelish bettered himself disgusted me. As did his outright murder of my aunt before my eyes.'

Tyene nodded.

'Justice. I admire that. Our king believes in fairness and justice as well. He only wishes to punish the masterminds behind betrayals, battles and war. Not innocent soldiers or family members.'

'That is very good of him', Sansa agreed.

Sansa picked up some caramelized figs, swollen and dripping with sweet juice. She was going to enjoy figs for as long as she could, they would be running out of them soon enough. She had never had fig trees in the glass house in Winterfell, so she didn't know whether they would grow in those conditions. She might be looking at years with only fig jam and dried figs.

'So?' Tyene asked after some silence.

She was clever, forcing Willas to make up his mind on the spot. She had come in with promises and demands, under the threat that she would be gone by morning. Everything had to be discussed now.

Willas delicately rubbed at his eye while thinking about it. She ached to support him and talk it over together. Truth be told, Sansa didn't know what to think about it either. They had recognized that switching sides would be difficult as long as Lord Mace was in power. They had never found their way out of Mace technically ruling over them. Willas had tried seeing it as an advantage. If the Targaryen king failed, his father could just punish Willas while house Tyrell remained unharmed. But with Loras and Garlan gone without any current prodigies, Mace couldn't exactly disinherit Willas. So there was no use in Willas going rogue against the crown while his father continued defending it.

Tyene's demand solved everything. With Mace out of the way they could support the new king. Their decisions couldn't be counteracted. The army would listen to them, as there would be no Mace Tyrell telling them otherwise. And if the decision was announced the way Tyene suggested, although some would still look upon it badly, it would be generally accepted.

It was permanent though, so very permanent. And it made war real and tangible. The protest from King's Landing would be immediate. The next battle imminent. Just last month they had lost Loras, Garlan and half of the men of House Hightower in a single fight. More losses seemed unbearable.

'When would you wish to make it known? Such a declaration would be a declaration of war. And I have no troops at my borders.'

'Oh, no worries. Dorne and the Stormlands remained subtle for weeks. Indeed, most don't even know the Stormlands are loyal as a whole. They think we just occupied some castles. We need those fifteen ships for our next mission. Your grandmother can hold all further war negotiations. All in strictest secrecy. The longer they underestimate us, the later they start preparing for our invasion. We're still rallying our troupes. There will be no attack on King's Landing before the ninth month.'

Less than three weeks. That was not so much time. In fact.

'We won't even get our troupes to King's Landing if we start sending them today. Especially those from the south coast', Willas said.

'At least. We must allow things to take their natural course', Tyene smiled, picking up a fig and dipping it in the crumbly sweet cheese beside it. 'Everything always takes longer than one expects. Even though a fast pace is recommendable to stay ahead of others and come out triumphantly.'

Sansa could only listen and try and commit everything she said to memory. This woman had to be impossibly well-read.

Jon never could have gotten such an education. Nor would he ever have been sent to enter negotiations such as these. Dorne was way ahead in their treatment of bastards. But no matter traditions, many bastards were now climbing up. Ramsay Bolton. Aurane Waters who had become a member of the small council. Bastard Walder Rivers who even married a lady of a proper house. And with so many heirs dying, without a doubt many bastards would be recognized in the future, and play an important role. Her mother would turn around in her grave if she knew her daughter would have to deal with bastards on equal footing. But then her mother had probably never known or seen how capable and human and moral they could be. She had never walked a mile in their shoes. It almost made her sad, seeing how clever, capable and beautiful this woman was, knowing that had her father been anyone else, she would have been naught more than a common whore.

Sansa looked at her husband from the corner of her eyes. He had less than ten minutes to decide the fate of the Reach and his family. It seemed so little time for such a crucial decision. But then her father's head had hit the floor in less than ten minutes and changed the entire future of the North. Perhaps the most influential decisions were always those that were made in the heat of a moment. A wise man who had thought things through would have never kidnapped the daughter of the Lord of the North. Robert hadn't planned on becoming king for months before deciding to rebel. Joffrey and Cersei were no clever masterminds plotting her father's downfall for weeks, they wouldn't have done a thing if she had stayed quiet.

Usually there was one action.

And then…

Not minutes later…

A reply.

'I will not have my father be executed or harmed', Willas said.

'We do not want a reign started in bloodshed. It would not help, given his grandfather's reputation', Tyene replied.

She took a slice of boozy cake drizzled with honey.

'Can I take that for a yes?'

'I demand you keep your promises as I do mine, and know that our friends are plentiful. I want to see the start-up of your promises before any of my ships arrive at their destination so I know you will be true to your end of the deal. I need clear communication about the timelines. I need to know the exact dates and be able to inform my people in time. Gather my army in time', Willas warned.

'Naturally, my lord.'

'Then I say yes, for my family and my people. Your king has my support. I was honest from the start that I believed in your king and wanted to cooperate.'

'You are a man of your word and a man of reason. But then we already knew of your merits. You, we did not doubt', Tyene smiled.

'Will you ladies be needing rooms?' Willas asked.

Tyene looked to her sister, who raised her eyebrows at her and looked at the window.

'No. But we would appreciate food for our journey. With this bad weather, the sooner we start travelling, the better.'

'My wife shall guide you', Willas smiled, laying his hand on Sansa's.

'Thank you, my lord', both said.

Willas whispered into Sansa's ear which horse the stableboy had to gift them before Sansa, Tyene and Sarella left. Food was packed into three baskets before they stole away into the night in dark cloaks. Sansa accompanied them until the castle gates to make sure they would go.

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'Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Tyrell', Tyene thanked her.

'I am grateful to receive you. I am gladdened we could talk face to face', Sansa replied politely.

'Yes, it is valuable to know one another, a conversation says so much more than a letter', Tyene agreed.

Sansa couldn't help but mistrust those words.

'Fret not, my lady, our quarrel is not with you. You have nothing to fear from us. But twenty years of being snubbed by the Baratheons, the Lannisters and their cronies… Having our princess and one of our princes murdered by the same Lannister soldier, we could not let this pass forever. And if it hadn't been for the benevolence of some loyal supporters, our King Aegon would have been killed on the command of the cruel Lannisters as well. He grew up an orphan, cheated out of his birth right, in a foreign place. Surely, you can empathize? Surely, you support us in this. This is your vengeance too. Finally, we can bring to an end so many injustices. All we need, is support. And we will make things right', she spoke gently, her voice honeysweet. One could simply not disagree if spoken to in such a way, so empathy inspiring was it.

'I understand', Sansa said, afraid of tripping over her words. 'If you can do that, I laud you. My husband has said he will help you. We will be awaiting your letters.'

'You don't support his decision?' Tyene asked, noticing her lack of passion.

'I- I', Sansa stammered, 'I have seen people take revenge for past grievances for years now. But I have not seen peace despite all the vengeance. I just want peace and stability. I've seen enough of death.'

'You would find a good friend in Ellaria. She was in King's Landing too. Did you meet?'

'We did. We even sat together, at King Joffrey's wedding.'

'She's a lovely woman, is she not?' Sarella asked.

'She was very kind. My heart broke for her upon hearing the news of Prince Oberyn's death. They looked very much in love.'

'They were. She is heartbroken still, such is the price for love.'

Sansa nodded. She hoped the war would not make much more widows out of wives.

'Let us hope we will not have to see many women we know heartbroken due to the decisions of their lovers', Tyene spoke, making eye contact with Sansa.

Her heart stopped. And she just about managed to nod and smile. That was a threat. Sharp and unexpected. The message was clear: keep your word, support us, or else…

Once the Sandsnakes departed, disappearing into the night with their black cloaks and the beautiful chocolate brown horse, Sansa ordered the guards to keep closer watch on the gate, and screen everyone who entered henceforth. Or else better guards could be found.

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Willas was already abed when she returned, but he did not look comfortable at all. The weight of the fifteen promised ships dragged him down, deep into the sheets.

'Is your leg fine?'

'No.'

'Your hands?'

'It'll pass.'

'Are the sandsnakes…'

'Gone, and I asked for stronger security', Sansa told him.

'I'll have to tell mother', he muttered, changing topic again. 'Poor father…'

'It can wait a little longer.'

She changed into her nightgown, extinguishing most of the candles before she crawled into the safe space of their bed.

Sansa felt just as unready to become Lady of the Reach as Willas to become its lord, perhaps even more so.

'You did what you felt you had to do.'

But Willas was tired and strained, so tense he was ready to snap. His mind had raced at a thousand miles an hour the past day and now he needed it empty. His weary body was in need of comforting. So he dragged his wife on top of his lap.

'Less than a month without war left', he said.

Sansa understood.

She shared his fears, his burdens and the exhaustion at the mere thought of having to go through it all.

'We promised each other that we would make the most out of every moment we had.'

She stretched her fingers, slotting them between his before he lifted them to his mouth, kissing them slowly.

'Let's make something out of it', he said, bringing their joined hands to the headboard, which made Sansa stretch out a mere inch above his body.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the air he breathed before joining their lips in a kiss.

She could do that. Or she could try, at least.

His thrusts were hard and sharp as he kept her on top of him.

As she gasped for breath, his pursuit of oblivion relentless, the noise in the background fell away.

She didn't hear how the rain stopped slamming into her windows and pausing between gusts of wind, instead turning into a constant tapping.

As his hand travelled down, she didn't hear the sound of the rain changing and turning harder.

When she pulled his hair and heard him groan, not a single worry managed to slip through her delight.

They lay strangled for half an hour, both of them clinging onto the other, wanting to soothe and be soothed.

Meanwhile, outside of the closed drapes of their bed, outside of their bedroom, the rain had finally turned into hail.