Notes:
There are a couple of time jumps here, but this is mainly a transitional chapter that resolves some issues and also opens a pretty major conflict for the next part of the story. For the Theonsa lovers, there's a bittersweet scene in here that I really enjoyed writing. thanks for reading!
The departure of Winterfell, two weeks later
Sansa was fighting with every fiber in her body to hold herself together. The morning she had been dreading for weeks had finally arrived, and she struggled to dress herself and her daughter as the panic settled in. She stood with Missandei and Brienne in the center of Winterfell, waiting to say goodbye to her friends and family once again.
Arya was the first to come by. She took her sister's shaking hand, and looked into her eyes, which were plagued with worry.
"Sansa, I survived the Night King, and you survived Cersei. I'm going to avenge what she did to our family, and what she did to you. And I'm going to live."
She wrapped her arms around Sansa and held on for a long time. Sansa released, and Arya took Clara's hand, who leaned forward and gave Arya a very drooly kiss on the cheek.
"And you my little lady, don't grow up too fast without me, and don't give your mother too much trouble. That's my job."
Arya turned to her horse, but Sansa stopped her.
"Arya, I love you," she said.
"I love you too Sansa, I love both of you."
With that, Arya fell into line with the soldiers. Jon came by with Daenerys.
"I wish you wouldn't do this," Missandei admitted, a tear slipping down her cheek.
"My dear friend, you know I must. We must fight for the better world we promised. That's why we came here, isn't it?" Daenerys said, trying to comfort her.
She nodded in agreement, and they embraced.
As everyone said their goodbyes, Sam caught Bran staring at him from the corner of his eye. He slowly walked over, and sighed when Bran remained silent.
"I'm going to tell them, I promise."
"In this lifetime? Or the next?" Bran asked stoically.
"I'll be on the ship with them to care for the Queen if anything goes wrong, and I'm sure I will find a good moment that will cause the least damage."
Bran said nothing.
"Bran, if you care so much why haven't you just told him already," he asked in anger.
"I don't really care. I just watch really. That's my job in all of this."
"Oh you really are incredible do you know that?" Sam muttered, walking away from Bran.
Jon watched this strange interaction, but he ignored it and came over to his sister. Jon took Clara from Sansa and lifted her into the air as she squealed with excitement.
"Jon, please don't die. I need you. Clara needs you. Don't get yourself killed doing something noble, I can't lose anyone else." She stressed, her arms wrapped around herself.
"Sansa, I will see you when this battle is over. That's a promise."
"We'll send a raven when it's all over. Relax while you can Lady Sansa, it will be nearly two months before we fight. We will see you soon," Daenerys said as she came over.
Jon settled Clara back into Sansa's arms, and she waved to him with both of her hands, just as he had taught her.
"Bye bye," she muttered as she smiled at Jon.
"Goodbye Lady Clara, I will see you soon. Be good for your mum please," he cooed, winking at Sansa.
Dany and Jon then mounted their horses, and the gates of Winterfell closed behind them. Sansa left with Clara to the Throne Room of Winterfell, where she was to sort out supply rations for her citizens and guests at Winterfell. She was grateful that she had the responsibilities of the entire North to keep her distracted while everyone was away. Ghost stayed by her side, and she reached the top of the steps, with one more glace at the black and white horses that carried Jon and Daenerys away from Winterfell.
…
Once week later, at sea
Daenerys was still leaning over the side of the boat when Jon came up to meet her. It was their third day since they set sail from White Harbor, and the sea had not been kind to Dany. She weakly lifted her head over the rail, and smiled at him. He sat on the floor and pulled her into his lap. She wanted to be by herself, but she was too tired to refuse as her head fell against his shoulder. Her stomach had become much more pronounced now, and the extra weight she had to carry was more taxing than she had expected. She still managed to hide her bump with loose gowns and plenty of robes: she still wasn't ready to let the world know.
"The ocean breeze is freezing in the winter. I remember what a relief it was when we set sail for Westeros, and now my face is numb and I've been out here for all of three minutes," she complained.
"Dany, how many times have you vomited today?"
"Well, I don't really know. I lost count after five," she answered timidly.
"This can't be good for you or the baby, maybe we should get off, we can stop at the next port, and take the King's Road back to Winterfell, I could..."
But before he could finish his thought, she brought her finger to his lips,
"Jon, don't be ridiculous, I need to be here. With you, and with the rest of my army. We cannot win this war without the dragons, and I need to ride Drogon to make sure he takes down the weapons meant to kill him and so that he doesn't kill innocent civilians."
Jon shook his head: this was not the first time they had this conversation.
"Daenerys, are you the slightest bit concerned for our child? What happens if you fall off? Or worse…" he closed his eyes, not wanting to imagine the horrors that could occur if something were to go wrong.
She pulled away, and her brows furrowed in frustration,
"Jon, if we lose this war, this child will never be safe. She will spend her whole life terrified that someone is always trying to harm her. She will live in exile, wondering who her parents are and where her real home is. It's not a life I would wish upon anyone, certainly not our baby. I have to fight for us, and for our future. We don't even know if this baby will be born alive, and I'd rather have a secure world no matter the means."
"But you're sick, Dany, you haven't kept anything down in nearly two days,"
"Yes, this is true, but Jon, your baby would be sucking the life out of me no matter where we were, on land or sea."
"Why don't you take this seriously? If there's something that can be done to make you better, shouldn't we try it?"
She could sense that he was getting irritated, but she decided to push back.
"Jon, I am not trying to be funny, but the only thing that would make me feel better would be if I wasn't pregnant, and if I wasn't about to fight another war. But that's why we're here. Now, if my illness bothers you so much, then go to our chambers. I'll come down when I'm better so I don't upset you," she spat.
"Sometimes I don't even know if you want this child!" he yelled.
No one Jon knew could make his blood boil like his wife. He left abruptly and went down to his study, slamming the door behind him.
Daenerys sighed and leaned her head against the side of the ship. She was miserable, and yearned for dry land. She knew Jon just wanted to help, but his overwhelming concern for something she wasn't even sure would survive annoyed her. She heard shuffling, and Varys and Tyrion came to sit on the floor beside her.
"I never thought I'd see Daenerys Stormborn, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, the unburnt, the Mother of Dragons, the Khalessi of the Green Grass Sea, sitting on the floor of a ship deck in plain sight in her night robe, throwing up over the edge every five minutes," Varys teased.
"Are you done?" she growled.
He didn't answer, and she just sighed, looking down at her hands.
"Jon doesn't think I should be here," she admitted.
"Yes, we heard," Tyrion answered.
"You listened to that whole conversation?" she asked incredulously.
"It was hard not to, you were screaming at each other."
"Fuck," she exclaimed, running her hands through her hair.
"He's just concerned about you your Grace, he's never had the chance at a family before, and he wants to protect you." Tyrion said.
"He expects me to drop everything I've been working towards to tend to this unborn baby who has been faring just fine without my constant attention. I know I can be cold sometimes, but he knows I care."
"Does he?" Varys questioned.
Daenerys blinked; stunned that he questioned her statement.
"What do you mean?" she asked slowly.
"Your Grace, you never talk about the child, even when it's just us at meals or meetings. He brings it up, and you push it away like it's the last thing on your mind all of the time. I know there's a war you have to fight, but you're likely to win it, and after that you'll have to face what I'm pretty sure is scaring you more."
Daenerys put her head in her hands,
"I can't think about this baby because I can't stand to lose it," she whispered.
Tyrion and Varys looked to each other with approval, and Tyrion took Dany's hand,
"Tell him that," he advised gently, "at least he'll understand why you're acting so indifferently."
She nodded in agreement, "but it won't convince him any differently about riding Drogon."
"You many have to agree to disagree on that, and you can point fingers when it's over. You'll never agree upon everything, and you need him to understand that this is one of those things," Varys explained.
Daenerys reached her hands out, and they both helped her stand up.
"Thank you, my professional and personal advisors," she grinned.
"Anytime your Grace," Tyrion answered as Varys bowed slightly.
...
Meanwhile in Winterfell
Snow was falling hard. Sansa looked up to see the sky darkening rapidly: another storm was coming. She wrapped her scarf around her head and made her way to the main gate of Winterfell. She had planned on going to the Godswood for a moment to herself, but she didn't feel like getting stuck out in a storm after just recovering from a cold. She instead settled on the center of Winterfell to at least get some fresh air. She walked around, observing the people as they went about their daily chores: cleaning out horse stables, chopping firewood, and crafting horseshoes. She was about to turn away from the blacksmiths, when someone called out her name. She turned, it was Gendry.
"Gendry, how are you?" Sansa asked kindly.
"I'm well, my Lady, there's actually something I've been meaning to show you. It's from the Queen."
"Oh really? Well let's see it," she said, following to where he motioned.
She froze when he led her to the corner of the room. It was a crypt statue of Theon, much like the ones of her mother and father that she hadn't visited since the Battle of Winterfell. Her breath hitched, and when she thought she would lose control of it all again, she thought back to what Daenerys said. Clara's face came to her mind, and she inhaled deeply.
Not this time.
"I..I can't…" she stuttered, trying to find the right words to thank Gendry.
"You don't need to say anything, my Lady. She said you needed a way to remember him, so she came and asked me to make this a few weeks before they left."
"It's perfect," she whispered, bringing her hand to the statue.
She closed her eyes, and she felt happy.
Sansa's eyes opened slowly, and her vision slowly came to focus in an unrecognizable room. To her right, she saw Theon holding a small bundle in his arms, he seemed to be talking to it. Sansa slowly came to the realization that he was holding her daughter, and she struggled to remember what she had looked like. She slowly reached her hand out and gripped his arm, and he looked to her in shock.
"Lady Sansa," he said with surprise.
"Theon, where's Jon and Brienne" she asked hoarsely.
"Don't try to speak yet, here, have some water first. We haven't been able to get you to drink anything since last night. They went into the village to get more soup for you, there's only one kind that you've been eating."
She graciously took the water, and sat up slowly against the pillows. Theon watched her carefully, helping her to sit up and placing more pillows under her back for support.
"How long have I been out of it?"
"A week. You'd take food and drink sometimes, and you didn't protest too much when the baby needed to eat, but mostly you would just mumble to yourself. You were very feverish, we didn't think you'd make it," his voice shook.
Sansa looked to the newborn swaddled in blankets, and she leaned over the bed, trying to get a glimpse of her daughter.
"There's someone who's been missing you this past week," he smiled.
Tears welled in her eyes again as Theon placed the baby in her arms. Her hair seemed to be even redder than Sansa remembered it, and her fists were bunched up at her face as she hiccupped quietly.
"She's so beautiful," Sansa said in awe.
"She looks just like you Sansa."
"She's not at all like her father, I thought before she was born I was carrying a little Ramsay, which terrified me each day, but I can see now she's, she's gentle. Her kicks never hurt when she was inside me. I swear Theon, she touched my face right after she was born, and I think she was apologizing for everything. I didn't even want to see her, but my heart melted when I did. She saved me. And Theon, you saved both of us. I could never thank you enough for what you've done for us."
"Lady Sansa, it was the least I could do, you convinced me to fight; if it wasn't for you I would still be there."
She shifted the baby's weight onto one arm, and freed the other one to wrap around Theon. He exhaled, relieved that she had pulled through. She patted the side of the bed, and he sat beside her.
"She needs a name," he reminded her quietly.
"It's Clara," she said without hesitation.
"Clara?"
"I saw it in a history book one, and I've always liked it. It sounds like a mix of Catelyn and Arya, and I want a way to remember my mother, and sister, wherever she may be."
"That's a wonderful name, welcome to the world Lady Clara," Theon repeated.
Sansa rested her head on Theon's shoulder, and they both focused on Clara, who had fallen fast asleep, soothed by the voices she had come to recognize. Sansa looked into Theon's eyes, and he kissed her gently on the forehead. She hadn't remembered the last time she felt so content, but she knew she would happily stay right where she was forever.
...
"Sansa, Sansa!" Gendry worried, shaking her shoulders.
She came back to the present with a startled look, but she smiled.
"I'm sorry, I was just thinking of something. Gendry, this is an incredible thing you've done, and I can't thank you enough. I'm so glad that Clara will have this, so that she will know Theon as she grows up. This is the greatest gift anyone could give."
She gave Gendry a brief embrace and turned to head inside. She had held back the panic, and she felt at peace. Daenerys was right, only good memories filled her mind as she climbed the stairs. When she returned to the Throne Room of Winterfell, she grabbed a piece of paper, and began to write Daenerys.
