Notes: Hello! This chapter is a little bit dark; it explores a part of Sansa's past from her own perspective. Warning: there is a scene with childbirth that is a bit graphic, and implied abuse/rape, but nothing graphic there. Since Clara is an original character, I thought I would give more detail to her background. Thank you for reading!

"Northerners and Southerners, young and old, native and foreign, gave their lives on this land to defeat an enemy that threatened the very existence of life as we know it. If they could set aside their differences and offer the ultimate sacrifice to save humanity, then it is our mission, our rightful duty, to set aside our differences and fight to improve the world that they died protecting. Many, as I am, are heartbroken by the loss of our friends, families, and mentors. As I said earlier, we fight to keep their memory alive, and remember them for their bravery, kindness, or the unique qualities that made them who they were. Our sadness will fade in time, but our love and honor for them will not."

Daenerys paused to look at Jorah, and closed her eyes as her heart threatened to betray her again. Jon stepped to the front, and took her hand. Together, they took turns reading the names of the fallen. It took nearly a half an hour to get through them all. At the end of the list, Jon began to speak.

"This is the list of the men and women who we could locate or identify. We would like to include in our honoring the men who are missing, or who could not be recognized. It is to them that we owe our lives, and our newfound ability to continue on with our journeys, whatever they may be, to make the world a better place."

Once the speeches commenced, a few moved forward to say their final goodbyes. Sansa's hand shook while she placed a direwolf pin to Theon's armor. Tears slipped down her face, but she let them fall. She looked over to Daenerys, whose strength wavered as she looked at Ser Jorah for the last time. For some reason, Jon was drawn to Lyanna Mormont, and he muttered a final thank you before he looked out to all of the fallen. They backed away as the fire began to grow immensely. Sansa looked down, focusing on the ground right underneath her. Jon came over and embraced her. She took a deep breath and turned with the others to head back inside. Daenerys left to visit Drogon and Rhaegal.

Daenerys entered her and Jon's chambers well past sunset and sighed at Jon, who was already lying in bed, tucked warmly under the covers.

"I think this was the longest day I've ever had, and I can't even relax like you," Daenerys said, pointing to the full glass of wine in Jon's hands.

"Well, I can help you relax," he said suggestively.

"Jon!" Daenerys blushed, looking over to Missandei who stifled a laugh.

She ducked behind the dressing curtain with Missandei, who began to take out her braids as she got undressed.

"I think we need to teach Jon a little bit more about courtesy to royalty," Daenerys said to Missandei.

"I'll teach him myself if it pleases you your Grace," Missandei laughed, looking past the curtain to Jon.

Daenerys and Jon wished her goodnight, and Dany climbed into bed alongside Jon. He played with her hair while she ran her fingers along his chest.

He looked at her with lust, and tried to roll her nightgown over her head, but she stopped him, cupping his face in her palms.

"Jon, I'm so tired, do you think we could wait just a little longer?" she asked kindly.

"Of course," he said, gently settling her next to him, "you can have as much time as you need, you just tell me when you're ready," He said, looking straight into her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered, "but you can still kiss me if you wish."

It didn't take long before they were slowly drifting to sleep.

Daenerys awoke with a start. She sat straight up in bed, looking around for the source of the noise she thought she had heard. Was it just a bad dream? Jon was snoring gently beside her, and she began to lean back, but then she heard it again. It was a faraway cry.

"Jon, Jon, get up!" She whispered, nudging his shoulder.

He rubbed his eyes and looked drowsily to his wife,

"What is it?" he asked groggily.

"Goodness, you can really sleep through anything, can't you?" She muttered under her breath.

There was silence for a moment, and then a scream, louder than the one that Daenerys heard before. Jon got up, lit a candle from the fireplace, and walked into the hall.

Daenerys crossed her arms and looked out into the hallway. There was nothing.

Jon traced the sounds to the end of the hall. Suddenly his breath caught: Sansa. He turned the corner to her room and saw Brienne rushing in from her quarters.

"Daenerys, hurry, it's Sansa!" Jon yelled to her.

Daenerys marched quickly down to the end of the hall, and her eyes widened when she saw Sansa thrashing around in the bed, screaming at the nightmare in her mind. Her hand flew to her mouth, and her heart sunk when she realized what Jon had said about the nightmares. Clara was standing in her crib with her arms held out, clearly startled by the shrieks of her mother. Jon ran over to pick her up, and Daenerys kneeled at Sansa's bedside.

Jon sat and tried to calm Clara down, but she continued to cry and reach for her mother.

"It's one of the nightmares Dany, she can't see past it." Jon said as Daenerys tried to shake Sansa awake.

"Okay, well, I'm not going to leave her here. Take her Jon, she shouldn't see this," Daenerys said, nodding to the baby in his arms.

"Everyone else should leave too, let me handle this," Daenerys said to the maidens who had entered the room.

"My Lord, would you like me to take Clara from you?" Brienne asked kindly.

"Ah, that's okay; I can watch her for a little while. Thank you Brienne."

She nodded and returned to the outside of Sansa's chambers.

Jon took Clara into the dining hall, setting her down to walk around the large room. Ghost came to join them, and he felt relieved that Clara would be distracted. Clara took a few steps forward, and then she turned around and stumbled back to Jon, reaching her arms up and whimpering.

"You want me to hold you? You have all this free space Lady Clara, I thought you'd like to explore," he pondered to his niece.

She rested her cheek on his shoulder when he picked her up. He sat down on one of the benches, and Ghost jumped up, licking Clara's face as she giggled and tried to brush him away.

"Mama," she babbled, looking around the room.

"Oh Clara, we can't see your mama right now, she's not feeling too well. But she's getting help, and we'll see her soon." Jon said, bouncing her gently on his knee.

He played with Clara and Ghost for a while, until Clara got tired enough and fell asleep. Jon carried Clara back to his chambers; he figured she could sleep on his and Dany's bed until Sansa was better. He smiled as he watched her hands and feet twitch, and the corners of her mouth turn into a smile. She must have been dreaming of Ghost, because she looked as if she was pushing his gentle kisses away from her face. Jon watched her, mesmerized by the pure joy and innocence of his niece.

...

The light was fading from Sansa's eyes. She was struggling with every ounce in her body to stay awake, but with each blink her eyes stayed closed just a little longer. Blood had soaked nearly all of the sheets underneath her, and it felt cold as it dried on the inside of her thighs.

"Sansa, please, stay with us," her midwife begged from the foot of the bed.

Sansa sat up on her elbows and waited for the next contraction. She let out tiny cries as she pushed. Her entire body began to shake, and she fell back against the pillows.

"I can't do this." Sansa said as she gasped for air.

"Oh my dear child, you're doing wonderful. Remember to breathe with each contraction. The baby is in a great position, it shouldn't be much longer, I can just see the head starting to come through." The midwife tried to hide her concern, but she knew Sansa was becoming very feverish; her skin felt hot to the touch.

"You can do this Sansa; you're the strongest person I know." Theon said quietly. She nodded to him, grateful for the encouragement, and sat up again.

She whimpered as another contraction ripped through her, and she pushed.

"Harder, Sansa push harder, that's it, you're doing it!" The midwife exclaimed.

Tears streamed down Sansa's face and she choked back another sob as the pain grew to a fire between her legs. She desperately wanted to lie down, but Theon slid his hand behind her back, limiting her movement as the midwife instructed. Ramsay had forced Theon to stay with Sansa throughout her entire labor, no doubt more mental torture for him to see Sansa like this.

"Theon…err Reek, come help me hold her legs please," the midwife asked quietly.

Theon slowly moved next to the end of the bed, and followed the midwife's instructions. He took Sansa's legs and bent her knees backward, moving her legs apart: Sansa didn't have the strength to keep her knees bent anymore. Theon nearly passed out from the sight of all the blood, but he managed to keep his footing. Sansa needed him, and this was all he could do to help her.

"Push my Lady; I can really see the head now. Please!"

Sansa's hair was messy and plastered to the side of her face, covered by a mix of sweat and tears. Her arms lay limply by her sides, and her fingers were tracing small circles on the sheets beneath her. Her legs were shaking fervently, and her breathing was labored.

But she didn't give up. Eventually, she felt the baby's head begin to crown, sharply pressing against her. She could feel an immense tearing and she pushed even harder.

"Theon, help me." Sansa struggled as she looked down at him.

"One more time my Lady, bear down once more and it will all be over."

Sansa devoted what little energy she had left to another push. Her jaw clenched together and she leaned forward, using all of her pent up anger from the past months to what she knew had to be the final one. She leaned back when she felt the overwhelming release of pressure between her legs. The baby slipped out and Sansa released the biggest exhale of her life. She hoped Ramsay was far away from the outside of her door. The midwife held the baby in Sansa's view for a moment, and she could see right away how tiny and fragile the baby was. Unlike how her younger siblings had been, this baby was small and skinny and Sansa shrunk into the bed when she realized how furious Ramsay might be that she hadn't delivered a fat, healthy baby. The baby had red hair like her and curled up from the cold as the midwife brought the infant into her lap. Finally, Sansa heard a cry. Theon quickly came to Sansa's bedside and wiped her forehead, which was glistening with beads of cold sweat.

The midwife cut the umbilical cord with a knife and cleaned the baby with towels and warm water. She wrapped the baby in a blanket and rocked gently, but she couldn't get it to stop crying. The midwife tried to hand the baby to Sansa, but she refused to hold the screaming bundle. She wouldn't fall in love with something Ramsay would only take away from her.

"Please, take it away. I don't want to see it." Sansa said quietly, her eyes closed.

The midwife looked at Sansa apologetically,

"My Lady, please, babies won't quiet down until they feel the familiar heart beats of their mothers, if you'll just let the child lay on your chest for a moment."

Sansa didn't have the strength to refuse anymore, so the midwife peeled back Sansa's nightgown and laid the baby on her chest. Sansa gasped when she felt the warmth of the newborn's skin, and turned her head to look. Her hands were shaking, and she couldn't resist the urge to gently pat the baby's back and try to calm it down. The baby finally stopped crying and fixed its eyes on its mother. Sansa nervously waited for Ramsay to come bursting through the door, but the world was silent except for the loud winds whistling outside and the quick shallow breaths of her newborn baby. Sansa brought her hand to the baby's face. It started to whimper again, and Sansa looked down fretfully.

"Shhh, it's okay little one. I'm right here, you're just fine," she cooed.

The baby's eyes closed slowly, and its entire fist grasped onto Sansa's pinky, squeezing with all its might. It didn't hurt delivering the afterbirth, and if it did Sansa was too focused on the child in her arms to notice. She counted all of the baby's fingers, and smiled as she listened to the tiniest little breaths and whimpers that she had ever heard. The midwife began cleaning Sansa, and she winced as the water stung her wounds. Sansa decided it was time, and slowly looked down to reveal her baby's gender. She let out another cry when she saw that she had given birth to a girl.

"What is it my Lady, are you hurting?" Theon asked.

"It's a girl." She softly admitted.

She looked up to Theon, "I can't do this anymore, Theon please help me." Her daughter began to cry again as well and Sansa bounced her in her arms, trying to quiet her down. She was dizzy and could barely stand to form coherent thoughts anymore.

"I'm not Theon, my Lady. Maybe Ramsay will show mercy if you are honest with him and the next baby you have is a boy."

"Mercy? Look at me Theon. He does not know what mercy is." Sansa whispered.

"I can't let this happen to her, please Theon, I need to escape. She'll never be safe here."

Theon looked to the door, and then back into Sansa's eyes.

"We can't, Sansa, you've just given birth, you couldn't possibly, even if we wanted to."

"Tomorrow then, I'll force myself to move; maybe he'll wait until tomorrow to…" She shuddered as she imagined the things Ramsay might do when he learned he had a daughter.

"Sansa, if he catches us we'll both be…"

"What? Tortured? Killed? If he comes back and I'm defenseless, still locked up in this room, Theon, it already hurts so much, and imagine what he'll do to her, this innocent baby, my baby! I need help Theon, please."

"Oh Sansa, please come back. Ramsay's gone, he's dead! You're here, with me, it's okay!"

Sansa took a deep gasp and was suddenly lying in her own bed, Daenerys by her side with a cool rag patting her forehead. Her breathing slowed, and she looked around the room in a daze.

"Clara? Where is she?" She panicked.

"Shh, she's with Jon, she's just fine Sansa." Daenerys whispered.

She lied back in bed and looked into Daenerys's graceful lilac eyes.

"What's happening to me? I thought these were over, but I have no control over them. I have no control over anything. I start to feel better, and then it all comes back. I'm so scared all of the time" She admitted.

"Sansa, they're panic attacks. After a traumatic event, like losing Theon, your mind reverted to the last place where you felt that much dread and you go there. I read that in a book somewhere on the boat."

"How do I get out of them?"

"You have to remember to breathe, and trace your steps back to the present. I think of something specific that didn't exist then. It brings me back."

"What's yours?"

Daenerys paused, "Jon."

Sansa gave her a weak smile,

"I know I told you that we ran from Winterfell, but do you know how I escaped from Ramsay?" Sansa asked, looking down at her hands.

"No," Daenerys answered quietly.

"I stabbed him. The midwife left me the knife she used to cut the cord between Clara and me, and I hid it under the mattress. He didn't come in until the next night, no doubt to play some sort of game with my mind. I spent the day resting and preparing to risk our lives to escape. Like clockwork he came in to… and well, when he wasn't paying attention, I stabbed him in the neck. Theon and I jumped over the side of the tower with Clara, I could barely walk but we managed to find Lady Brienne and we survived. I almost died from so much bleeding in the days following her birth, but when I woke up again I was at an inn and Jon was there," she paused, "I was happy that we were okay, and even happier when we took back Winterfell, but I haven't found myself again. I'm not really sure if I know who that is."

"Sansa, I know you don't feel like you're the same person anymore, not after what they've done to you, but she's in there. You have to fight though, to bring her back to you. It's not easy, but it's the fight you've been given. I can't imagine the pain you must feel, but I've seen the strength within you. You can create a new future."

"I have been trying for my daughter. I've been feeling better, but Theon, something in me broke again. But I'll survive, it's what we do."

Daenerys placed her hands on Sansa's and smiled.

"You should get some rest now, I'll go find Clara for you, I'm sure she's missing her mother by now."

Sansa exhaled and wiped sweat from her face. She leaned against the pillow and closed her eyes, trying to imagine her daughter's face. Her shining blue eyes, chubby round cheeks, and that gorgeous red hair that glistened in the sunlight. This is what she decided would bring her back to the present, as Clara was exactly the thing that had inspired her to fight for her life in the past.