Synopsis: Struck by another bout of bad luck, Sansa Stark, still under the guise of Alayne Stone, must relocate once again, this time to the mighty castle of House Tyrell. With all other Tyrells still gone, it is supposed to be the safest place for her to hide, even if that means sharing a roof with the man she was supposed to marry once upon a time: Willas Tyrell.
Loose fill-in for the prompt: "Alayne/willas, something like Sansa escapes from the Vale after she understands Petyr's true intentions. So she comes to the reach still as Alayne and becomes a servant there (Marge, Loras and Olenna are gone, so there's no one who can recognize her)" sent to asoiafrarepairs on tumblr.
Contains spoilers relating to the released Sansa chapter from Winds of Winter. This will be as canon compliant as possible, keeping into acount and mentioning as much of all events and intrigues in Westeros as possible while still focussing on the romance aspect.
In the year 298, Sansa Stark, aged Fourteen*, had believed her life was finally about to begin. She had left her cold homelands behind, and moved to the exciting and hot court in King's Landing, while engaged to the next king of the Seven Kingdoms. Life couldn't have been greater. Of all fourteen year old girls, she believed herself to be the luckiest, as a golden future awaited her.
After the first moon of the year 300 AC, Sansa Stark accepted a golden destiny was not in store for her. Two years of seeing your family members fall one by one, as you were tortured and ridiculed would see to that. And so she locked away her dreams and hopes of happiness in the same trunk with the cloak the Hound had left her, to remind her of the escape route she hadn't taken offered by one of the last persons who had looked out for her. It served as a reminder, although the meaning of that reminder changed every day. Sometimes, it was a reminder of what she'd lost, sometimes it was a reminder of her foolishness, and sometimes it was a reminder that she chose to remain and persevere as the last remaining Stark. She might not have anything left, but she existed, and as long as she existed, her family had not been defeated.
Once Joffrey's wedding came around though, the trunk definitely served as a reminder that she had let one chance of escape slip, and should not do so a second time. Because when your husband stands accused of kingslaying and kinslaying, there's no way you'll be able to continue on your merry little way. So this time when she was offered an out, she took it, and in exchange, she put her identity in the trunk of things she lost along the way.
She knew she was lucky to be alive. Although, alive could be debatable. Indeed, if Sansa Stark was alive, no one knew where she was, and she might as well be dead, for she hadn't been sighted in seven moons.
Instead, Alayne Stone lived in the Eyrie, living a life surrounded by friends, a doting father, a charge who declared to be in love with her, and an excellent future husband she had her sight on. Indeed, on the surface level, Alayne's life was the quiet peaceful life which Sansa had wanted ever since her illusions about life as a grand lady finally were shattered. And for the first time since Lord Eddard's death, she' felt alive again. But it wasn't her life, although she very much liked to pretend it was. It was all a lie. And the lie didn't end with Sansa not being Alayne, the life was a lie from start to end, and the cracks were starting to show. Her doting father had married a lady only to increase his power, while he lusted after his pretend-daughter, whom he believed to be the reincarnation of the woman he had always loved but never gotten.
Her charge was actually her weak cousin, and he only fancied himself in love with her because she spoiled him and embraced his temper and foolishness even when she was annoyed as hell. And Harry the Heir was a narcissist and a philanderer who had already successfully sowed his wild oats twice. Even Alayne had no happy future with a good husband to look forward to.
If that future was ever to come. If her father's scheming would get the time to unfold.
But it didn't.
Winter had finally come for the Vale, and the time of peace, which had lasted abnormally long, came to an end.
Lord Baelish had hoped for five years of it, he got less than five months.
She'd spent a lot of time setting up the tourney, with no less than four-and-six competitors participating. All young and strong men of the Vale, ready to defend their Lord and show their skill, including Harry the Heir, who was as handsome as he was arrogant, and although she'd had bad experiences with blond-haired arrogant boys before, she'd complied with Littlefinger's wishes and had done exactly as he said during the feast. And at the end of the night, she had managed to lure a statement from him, showing he didn't completely detest the idea of a marriage to her.
"Should we ever wed, you'll have to send Saffron back to her father. I'll be all the spice you'll want."
The handsome blond had grinned. "I will hold you to that promise, my lady. Until that day, may I wear your favor in the tourney?"
"You may not. It is promised to… another." She had been certain she would find someone, but she never needed to.
The Wild Mouse might look silly, but he certainly wasn't. Before the morning was over, he'd sent at least five ravens with the message he'd found Sansa Stark, although he wasn't so foolish as the mention the exact location or the alias she now had. Not trusting the ravens to fly freely, he also paid hefty coin for some letters to be carried by some farmers and merchants who travelled between the Gates of the Moon and the King's Road. If only one could make it to Lord Varys, he would be happy.
He spent the rest of the day in the melee, trying not to stand out, yet defeating all who dared pick up a fight with him. He had not lied, when he'd told Alayne the previous day: "A good melee is all a hedge knight can hope for, unless he stumbles on a bag of dragons. And that's not likely, is it?"
When the sun began to set, he decided it was clear to all present that he had come to participate, and had successfully shielded his true purpose. Leaving the melee under the guise of wanting to bathe and relax before dinner, he set out to find the pretty faced maid with the false name.
He found her in a state of panic, running through the halls with a doll in her hands.
'Lady Stone', he greeted her with a flourish. She froze, drawing up to her full incredible height. He barely reached her bosom. No child of Petyr's could ever grow that tall, a child with Northern and Riverland blood though, could.
'I apologize, Ser Shadrich, I'm quite indisposed at the moment.'
'With… dolls? Aren't you a little bit old for that? What are you, eight-and-ten?'
'Six', she admitted stiff-lipped. 'It's for our sweet Lord Robin.'
'I didn't know our eight year old lord played with dolls.'
'Our Lord may grow strong yet, but let us not pretend he is stronger than he is. He is but a young boy who lost both his parents at a young age, he deserves tiny comforts such as dolls when he isn't feeling too well. He is a child.'
'Does he not feel well? I am sorry to hear.'
Her lip didn't waver as she gazed at him coolly. He did not have a high status nor impressing physique, yet, to have his gaze met so directly, by a girl so young was unique. A girl raised by septa's in isolation would not be able to look him in the eye like this, but then again, that story was a lie.
'Lord Robin wished to be strong yesterday, and witness the festivities, unfortunately, the medicine took its revenge this morning. He will be right as rain in no time, have no fear', she smiled sweetly.
All sweet smiles, slipping him just enough information to appear to be open, but carefully watching her tongue.
'I am glad to hear.'
'Did you have any luck in the melee, today, ser?' she asked, impatiently looking over his shoulder in the direction she'd been running before he interrupted her.
'I did. You know, I was always quite good with a sword and an axe on the battlefield.'
'You fought on a battlefield?' she asked in surprise.
Her face told nothing, but he could see her throat bobble.
'Many, although most were during Robert's Rebellion. The last one didn't turn out the way I liked really, chose the wrong side and had to pay a ransom for my freedom. It quite ruined me.'
'With five kings, there were many wrong sides to be on', she said gravely.
'Stannis Baratheon's side was one of them.' This did get a reaction out of her. She blinked dazedly, before looking down at her hands. Realizing her slip up, she started toying with the doll as if she'd simply grown distracted.
'It has been proven old King Robert's brothers were not destined for the crown. Almost all other kings have fallen as well. Only the one destined to have it shall remain, The Vale shall remain loyal to the true king Tommen. I am happy that the loyal support of house Arryn to House Baratheon has ensured the stability and peace our region still enjoys.'
'Sure thing. If I could change things around, I'd pick the blond Baratheon any day. But I doubt he'd have me now. I'm very grateful your Lord Father hired me. Indeed, a great many men who chose wrong sides like me now find themselves sell swords, hedge knights and bandits. '
A blond Baratheon was just as ridiculous as a female bastard with the looks of a Tully living in the household of the deceased Lysa Tully, when princess Sansa had disappeared.
'That explains the bag of gold comment of yesterday,' she smiled, 'I've ensured prizes for all winners. The melee prize won't be as large as the one for the main tournament, but all tiny bits help, don't they?'
'They do. I'll take anything I can get, basically the motto of every hedge knight', he smiled.
The young woman nodded elegantly.
'You know what many of those unfortunate souls I've had the pleasure and displeasure of meeting on my way here are occupying themselves with?' he asked, finally deciding to push her.
The girl shook her head.
'I have not met many people in my life, I'm afraid, I know little, and even less of the figures one finds along the Kingsroad.'
'Many men have a price on their heads, dead or alive. But sometimes, there's the occasional woman who is sought for, the cases are rare, since important women rarely manage to disappear or travel alone. So when they do, and when a price is put up, many desperate souls decide to look. They all think a woman is a great deal easier to find, since few women travel during these times of war, and when they do they travel in large groups. So to spot a travelling lady, especially one who is claimed to have a very unique look, is supposed to be fairly easy. And there are few places where highborn ladies would consider hiding. A great many men flee to the Free Cities, hide in brothels, or pretend to be farmers, ladies can't, unless they marry. Because ladies don't live alone. Although, one could always join the silent sisters.'
He threw her a look, she had stopped playing with the doll, and was now clutching it tightly.
'It's silly, really. There are few noble women in Westeros as it is, I don't know why so many are so stupid as to thing that such a precious possession would be transported with anything less than the utmost care', he laughed.
The lady smiled and shook her shoulders.
'It indeed seems silly. Although one can't blame them, highborn ladies do love luxury, and women aren't really made for travel. I was so tired and sore the entire travel to the Eyrie when my father finally retrieved me', she sighed.
'And he transported me with all the comfort he could afford. Indeed, had anyone been on the look-out for us, they could not have missed us. But if I was sore and tired while travelling the fancy way, I cannot imagine how a dainty lady must feel travelling in a lowkey manner. They would hate it. Leave it to men to think we are all so fragile and vain we would not sacrifice some comfort for our safety. I cannot blame those men for thinking in such a way, but then I can't blame men for being born stupid', she laughed heartily.
'Of course, I know little noble ladies, perhaps they are right?'
'It would seem they are not right, since a lady by the name of Sansa Stark has managed to disappear for seven months without being found. Unless she's hiding somewhere inside the city of King's Landing, she must have travelled in a very inconspicuous manner. The spider believes her to be alive in any case, he's promised a plump bag of gold for whoever finds her.'
The lady laughed heartily.
'Oh, my, you are amusing indeed, Ser Shadrich. You come here now, intent on ridiculing the desperate souls searching for Sansa Stark in hopes of earning some money, but you are one of them, are you not, if you are, as you say, in search for a bag of gold?'
'I said "Unless I stumble upon a bag of dragons", indicating that I don't expect to. A man can hope, can he not, though I shall not waste my time searching, when there's money to be made here. I just keep an eye out for her, like any sane man would.'
Once again, he could notice her swallowing, but she shook her head laughing.
'Yes indeed, you are smarter than the lot of them. At least here you shall have a roof over your head and an income, which they won't have as long as they're chasing her. Seven months is an awfully long time to disappear is it not? Did not her little sister also disappear some years ago? Surely, if she lived, there would have been word of her by now. It is unfortunate, but I can't help but believe all Starks are dead. Lady Lysa talked about her cousins from time to time, she could not help but worry for them, even though she knew she could not help them, as they were all traitors. She had a good heart.'
'I wish I could have met her', he said quietly. He knew it was bold to try his luck, but he was too curious not to speak to her. She had chosen her spot well, he would not manage to get her out of the Gates of the Moon alone, or even with a dozen men, or an army even. This mountain range was the safest spot where she could be.
'My lady, I'll let you go to our good lord, I apologize for keeping you, I'll go bathe now, maybe I'll see you the next few days.'
'Yes, you surely shall, ser. Until then', she curtsied before leaving.
.
.
.
There would be no next meeting, he packed his bags as soon as he could, and left the castle amidst the flurry of activity. That money would be of no use to him if he was dead. He would think about a way to retrieve her from a safe place.
Littlefinger's plans were crumbling. He had been increasing Sweetrobin's dose of medicine, but did not want the little lord dead until Sansa was married, which she could not do until her previous husband was declared dead. If Robin died before that point in time, Harrold would become the new Lord of the Vale way too soon. He was old enough to rule, and had no loyalty to Lord Baelish. He could not become a lord until he was married to Sansa, who would guarantee his loyalty out of gratitude, since Lord Baelish had been the one to save her from King's Landing and had been the one to marry her to a handsome heir to ensure she could reclaim her birth right.
Now all his plans were jeopardized, or at least partially postponed. He had tried to keep an overview of all letters leaving the castle, but as everyone was sending letters recounting experiences at the tournament and anecdotes of the feast, it had been a mad house. He couldn't make the guests suspicious by keeping the ravens in until all correspondence was read, so he let his little spies check every so many letters. Still, it had taken them until the evening to intercept the dangerous letter, and this report to him was accompanied by the message that other letters by the same sender had left that day.
There were only three people who'd known about Sansa's identity as Alayne, one of them was dead, the other was he himself, and the third one was the girl herself. Yet this man had come in and guessed correctly that Alayne Stone was in fact Sansa Stark.
"I, Ser Shadrich of the Shady Glen, hereby declare to have found Sansa Stark in the South, at an undisclosed location which I shall keep to myself. I demand at least half the price in advance if I am to capture her alone, or the full price afterwards with your support, since her retrieval shall prove most difficult.
Your loyal servant of the realm,
16th day of the fifth moon, 300 AC"
The girl herself came to him not long after, telling him about her conversation with him. However, as Sweetrobin had needed her, and it was impossible to be kidnapped from the fortified castle, she had simply tried to discourage Ser Shadrich's beliefs and continued her business as usual so as to not rouse suspicion. Littlefinger confirmed that the man had already known who she was before the conversation even started, although both could not understand how he had found out about her. The only thing Sansa could imagine, was that he had seen her in King's Landing, as it was possible he had been one of those who had been captured during the Battle of Blackwater Bay. She had been the only redhaired noblewoman, and always stood out when she overlooked the throne room, but she had not paid attention to those in the throne room that day. He had been one of many, and she had been the famous Lady Stark.
He could put everything at risk: he could tell Varys about Littlefinger and about Sansa, their heads were on the line, and all of his plans could turn to dust.
Yet how could he send out his knights without rousing suspicion during a tourney? And how could he keep Sansa safe? Without Sansa present, no matter if the man came back with back-up, they were all saved. If the man could not prove Sansa's presence, he could have the man killed for accusing him of treason and conspiracy with enemies of the crown.
The man had to be found, and Sansa had to be hidden away in case he returned. The night was spent concocting plans. Alayne had become the de facto Lady of the Eyrie as his daughter, and the main caretaker of the future lord. She had prepared the tournament. Her disappearance could not be explained easily.
He tried to think of respectable ways to get her out. He wished he could send her away to serve as a Lady-in-waiting somewhere else, but if it was announced, all of the people present would know and talk about the beautiful young daughter of Lord Petyr Baelish departing for a specific destination they all knew, during a tourney she had prepared herself. Her link to him would be clear, the timing suspicious, and her destination known to all. It was like begging the hedge knight to find her, and it was bound to rouse suspicion when troupes of the king came by to check. There was no way to explain that he sent a young girl of the right age, with the same blue eyes and figure away, when they came to look for exactly such a girl.
Unless.
Unless he was merely acting like a strict father figure, and the sent-away daughter was sent away because of a scandal. A scandal that could not be publicly known, but was known to be a scandal by the public. Underneath the guise of a scandal, he could be allowed to send his daughter away quickly, and it would be understood if he did not disclose the location.
It could easily be done. Do some shouting in his study, not too loud but loud enough for a couple of voices to hear, pay a stable boy to disappear from the keep and point in his direction as a "suspected seducer", send his daughter away. The gossips who saw the stable boy run and heard the shouting, would put two and two together. Especially if he sent out some guards to catch the stable boy. That immediately solved his problem with Shadrich, since instead of searching for the stable boy, they could hunt him. A perfect plan.
But where to send her? She would not be safe in the Vale, all noble houses were all but abandoned since all the lords were here. And if he was really angry with his daughter, he would send her away from his lands. But whereto? He did not want to send her to war-torn lands. Nor to any place where she might be recognized. Nor could he send her to enemies of the crown. But then, the crown had few friends, as Cersei had even turned against the Tyrells. But then again, last time he heard both the old queen and the young queen were about to face trial, and Mace Tyrell had been appointed Hand of the King by Kevan Lannister. If a Lannister could still appoint a Tyrell, and Tommen was still married to one, no one in the capitol could blame one bannerman for sending their child to another. Margaery was arrested, Loras Tyrell was close to death near the Shield Islands according to the most recent reports, Mace Tyrell was in the capitol, Garlan Tyrell was off fighting somewhere and there had been no reports on the Queen of Thorns and Lady Leonette Tyrell leaving the capitol as far as he knew.
The Western waters of the reach were traitorous, but Highgarden would be a safe place where Sansa would be out of harm's way without having her identity exposed, as long as she maintained the cover of Alayne. And so, that night, an orchestrated shouting match between him and his daughter erupted, dramatized goodbyes were said to Sweetrobin, personal belongings were packed in haste. She had not been able to bring any of her lighter dresses with her from King's Landing, only the clothes she had on her body. And now her wardrobe existed of heavy Northern fabrics.
She took her brown dress with freshwater pearls, which would do fine for her arrival since although it had been her warmest dress which fit her in King's Landing, it was also the lightest dress she had in the Eyrie, although for her journey she wore one of her warm dark blue dresses Petyr had made for her. She felt for its pockets, and could still feel the hairnet stashed away. Perhaps it was not unwise to keep it. Stashing away all pieces of her aunt Lysa she could use, she finally stopped when her hands connected with a green cloak.
She hadn't touched it since she arrived. It had felt too personal.
It had belonged to another girl.
Another life.
And it told a tale of another future broken.
She unfolded the fabric on her bed, fingers tracing the carefully stitched hemline on the bottom which had been torn.
It would have been much too long had it been in its original form.
She had tried her best to clean it but some spots had remained and were still visible through the green dye the Tyrell cousins had gifted her during one of the afternoons they had spent doing needlework and talking over lemon cakes and honeyed wine.
Some stains you can't get rid of, she mused.
How fitting it would be that she would wear this cloak again. The cloak she'd worn when escaping from certain danger just like now, a cloak which had been left to her by the only one who had protected her from the vultures in King's Landing, and dyed in the colour of the House she would visit, provided to her by ladies of said House.
The hound had been strong, if she wore his cloak, perhaps she would have some of his strength.
She wondered where he was now, and if he was safe.
She had honestly believed she would never see Willas Tyrell after she had been married to Tyrion Lannister, yet now she was to go to his house. How fate twisted and turned.
Perhaps one day she would meet the Hound again too.
A horse awaited her when she ran outside, tears streaming down her face after she'd held an onion close to her eyes for a minute.
Baelish came to her then, as she mounted her horse.
'I hope this will give you some time to reflect. No daughter of mine should be so foolish! Perhaps I should have left you at that convent', he spat loud enough for some of the stable boys to hear.
'I couldn't help it', she cried.
'Father please.'
'Away with you!'
As she rode, accompanied by three of his men, she thought back on all Petyr had promised her.
"So those are your gifts from me, my sweet Sansa... Harry, the Eyrie, and Winterfell."
Would Harry still have her when all of this was over and she had returned? She'd been a bastard to begin with, and she had just committed the most horrible crime a bastard could do: she had lived up to the stereotypes. She had not been loyal to her family, she had been deceitful and lustful. Her carefully crafted position was in jeopardy.
Harry should not blame her, as he himself had slept with, had relationships and even children with two women now. But he had already blamed her for being a bastard, and was arrogant to boot. It would not be beyond him to be hypocritical and renounce her. However, now was not the time to think of that. Her life was more important than a marriage.
Her companions were silent, which was not surprising, considering one was a silent sister and two were personal guards thinking she had slept with a stable boy. Luckily, that mattered not, in the letter Littlefinger had sent House Tyrell, he had made no mention of the farce, and had merely stipulated that some of the noblemen participating in the tourney had taken offence to the presence of a bastard placed in plain sight, and that he had always intended for his daughter, who had not seen much of the world, to learn some useful skills in another royal household.
She knew not how the Tyrells would react. Indeed, she might even be sent home if they had no need nor place for her. With their daughter arrested in the capital, a son off at war, another close to death, and a threat of invasion on their south coast, they might look suspiciously at a never before talked about bastard daughter of Lord Baelish, of all people. She was bound to be looked at with suspicion.
No matter, she once again had no choice.
They reached Iron Oaks quickly, and from there she was put on a ship for the longest of time. Once upon a time, she had learned about all noble houses of Westeros, and though she had retained a lot, some things were starting to slip.
It had been years after all, she had not even been a woman flowered when she learned about it.
And so, because one could ever know enough, she used her time well, studying maps of the reach, and read history books about the region and its politics. She would only serve as a maid, but one never knew when a piece of information might come in handy. Lord Baelish had always instilled upon her she had to know her enemies, knowledge is power, he said. And she never wanted to be a fool again, like she had been when she first arrived at King's Landing.
At the Gillet they made sure to stay close to shore, because although Dragonstone had fallen a week ago, the waters were still dangerous. So it was only once they had passed Duskendale that they dared to cross the Blackwater Bay towards the Kingswood. The bay was still a ship cemetery full of driftwood, burned out ships stuck on cliffs and shoals, and floating bodies of dead men the tide had carried away from Dragonstone.
It made Sansa ill, and although her stomach had hardened in the past few years, she had retched when she saw a seagull flying down to pick at a dead man's remains. Luckily, the winds were with them, and the cold air easily blew them towards the Wendwater, from where the trip to Highgarden was relatively easily and peaceful.
Sansa was amazed to see the geography change, and tried to be on deck for at least two hours a day to commit all the differences to memory. From the steep grey snow-covered mountains and pines of the Vale, to the flat lands of King's Landing which had once been so green but were now reduced to mud with many houses and acres burned by war, to the mighty tall pines, oaks and rowans all rising from lush ferns and mosses.
It felt ancient and intimidating, yet at the same time peaceful, there were birds singing and she once even spotted a dear which had come to the river to drink. They raced through Felwood, as the woods had always been full of criminals, and were suspected to be even more dangerous than usual, with all potential deserters and scared villagers coming through from Storm's End.
For the longest time, Sansa thought there would be no end to the woods, they remained as dark and overcast as when they'd first sailed into them, and the spotting of dead bodies scared her severely. On top of it all, it had started raining, and there was nothing to be seen of the autumn flowers Margaery had once come plucking with her ladies. The rain slowed them down significantly, as it had turned the already bad roads to mud.
Once upon a time, it had been Summer for years on end, but now in just a matter of months, they appeared to be reaching the end of the autumn season. She had hoped with such a long summer, autumn would be equally long, however, that was not to be.
She was grateful to arrive at the Blueburn river after half a day's delay, and gratefully hopped on the boat to complete the last leg of her journey. Despite the rain, the lands still looked like Margaery had described them, although no words could ever do justice to the sight. The reach still had flowers, tall grasses, and fields full of vegetables. The landscape was a perfect agricultural patchwork, interrupted by towns made of both timber and stone. Tiny and bigger castles were dotted along the way, surrounded by orchards and grand gardens she could only see the contours of from her boat.
However, the signs of autumn were here as well, the glowing hills were overcast by clouds on most days, and harvest continued even through the rain, because the farmers were afraid their crops would rot if they did not harvest them sooner rather than later.
And then, first from far, she could distinguish a large grey structure on the horizon, situated atop of a hill. When the sun broke through the clouds at the end of day, the sun shone down and illuminated the walls and golden roofs of the towers.
It was just like the sketches she had seen. A mighty structure with three rings of heavy white stone whose walls increased with height, the layers clearly distinguishable by the green trees peeping out over the tops of the walls of every level. The towers drawn up during the Age of Heroes were square and low, while the newer were tall, providing a perfect look out at the surrounding planes and hills. Those fortifications were built during the Andal invasion, Sansa remembered. Alayne probably wasn't meant to know any of that, there was no reason the septa's would see fit to teach her such things.
She was in Highgarden at last, a year after she was supposed to come here.
She wished Sansa Stark could have seen these hills. If it were her exiting the boat instead of Alayne, she would have been welcomed by the common folk, and be received by Willas Tyrell himself as she was brought to the castle. Now she had to ride a tired old mare through circle after circle as she took in the brick houses, fountains, greenery, septs and the famed maze as she ascended the hill.
"We were speaking of my grandson Willas. He is a bit old for you, to be sure, but a dear boy for all that. Not the least bit oafish, and heir to Highgarden besides."
"Willas has a bad leg but a good heart."
"Gentle, pious, good-hearted Willas Tyrell. Be grateful you were spared, he would have bored you spitless."
She wondered if she would see him while she was here, and discover for herself what kind of man she could have married, had the cards been dealt differently. No matter, she could only accept the cards life had dealt her. The only thing she could do now was decide for herself how to play the cards to their maximum potential.
Author's notes:
* All ages are canon compliant, except for Sansa's, who is aged up to be sixteen at the start of the story, so it won't be classified as paedophilia according to the rules of asoiafrarepairstumblr. This will make her behaviour during all novels more foolish, since she's supposed to be older, so if you dislike that, you're still free to see her as a 13 year old about to turn 14 (fyi, she's supposed to turn 14 at the beginning of the 12th month of 300 AC, in this story she'll turn seventeen).
* I used the most precise full ASoIaF timeline there is, I can't link it but those that are interested can contact me, it's a google document available on the internet somewhere.
* There is speculation the green cloak is in fact Sandor's Kingsguard cloak he left with her. She has coloured her own dresses before when they got stained (her own silk dress when Arya threw a blood orange at her). She's also been shown to be attached to the cloak, and to have been doing a lot of needlework. She also did spend a lot of time with the Tyrells, there are others who support the theory that to keep the cloak without arousing suspicion in case anyone went through her stuff, she had both the skill to stitch the torn hemline from when Sandor tore it, and the time to rework the torn fabric into a hood. The colour green could have been chosen because for starters, Sandor is mentioned to have worn green and brown a lot, secondly she was at the time also thinking about Willas Tyrell, she's sentimental, so it could have definitely been her way to process the loss of Sandor and of her prospects of marrying Willas Tyrell. A last reason for the colour green could be that when you try to wash out blood stains, they may get a green shade, so covering it up with green would be just the most logical choice.
*The last line is based on a quote by Voltaire "Each player must accept the cards life deals him or her; but once they are in hand, he or she alone must decide how to play the cards in order to win the game."
*Travel Time
Based on this reddit thread /r/freefolk/comments/6rba7o/understanding_season_7_travel_times_a_timeline/
The distances between Highgarden and Kings Landing is supposed to be 900 miles, Olenna probably travels in royal style, so that means the trip should take them 75 days (2,5 months) if they are not delayed.
Sansa will travel a lot faster, she doesn't have a royal caravan.
The Vale is said to officially begin at the Bloody Gate. The distance between the Bloody Gate and the sea is said to be 350 miles, that is the furthest point, I take it Iron oaks is about 80 miles removed from the Bloody Gate (rough estimate). From Iron Oaks to Runestone is about 135 miles by water. From there they'll go to a small harbour on the southside of Blackwater Bay, somewhere around the Kingswoods (a total of 270 miles by sea). They'll be avoiding the Rose Road to avoid armed troops, instead they take the Wendwater, and they'll follow that river, ride for a short while, and take the Blueburn river until Longtable. The distance between the mouth of the Wendwater and Blueburn is about 150 miles and the distance between the start of Blueburn river to Highgarden is 370 miles, of which about 30 miles by land.
Distances are calculated based on distance estimates on the quora site: What-are-the-distances-between-different-houses-in-Game-of-Thrones.
This means Sansa's journey will be 1005 miles, of which 110 miles by land and 895 by water. This does not include the journey from the Gates of the Moon to the Bloody Gate, no estimated miles are known between the two, but I, and I've noticed many others, take it to be about a day's travel.
Using the travel speeds on the first website I mentioned, I take the average sailing speed will be about 140 miles a day. That means all the travel by boat could be done in 6,5 day, however, add to this the changing of ships, some bad weather, and the interrupted travel since the journey between Wendwater and Blueburn will take place by dirt road, it's going to be closer to 10 days of sea and river travel (rough estimates, forgive me). Then there's 110 miles by land, Sansa will travel in a very small group, which will make her faster, however she isn't a trained rider nor can they afford to change their horses every so many miles, so her average distance by day shall be 24 miles. That comes down to 5 days of travel on the roads. Add to this the one day's travel it'll take to reach the Bloody Gate from the Eyrie, and you'll have a total of 16 days.
If they left on the same day, Sansa would reach Highgarden 59 before Olenna. However, they don't. Olenna leaves the day after Tommen and Margaery's wedding, on the 16th day of the second month, meaning she should arrive right at the beginning of the sixth month of the year 300 if she doesn't stop by some others houses of the Reach to do some political manoeuvring in the meantime, which she might very well do. Sansa leaves on the night of the 16th of the fifth month at the soonest. Meaning she should arrive around the same time Olenna does. Exciting isn't it?
* Final note: I'm not intending for this fic to be very long, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless