Beautiful as it had been in Highgarden, Sansa was more than ready to return to Winterfell. As the months had marched on in her absence she had begun to fear for the North and what would happen if they didn't make it back in time. If Winterfell was lost there would be nothing between the Night King and the southlands, and her home would be forever lost.
There had been no news out of the North to suggest anything had changed, but they hadn't received any communications at all since they departed the Reach. Aegon had tried to advise her that no news was likely good news, but Sansa wasn't easily convinced. Not with Jon and Bran still in Winterfell.
The journey back to Dragonstone moved quickly, everyone's spirits buoyed by the magnitude of the recent victory in the Reach. They were laden with as many men and supplies as they could transport, with the promise of more to come as the kingdom stabilized and resources were freed up. The collective feeling of hope carried the fleet nearly all the way back to the island, only to be crushed underfoot as they came within sight of the keep.
Three great shapes circled the towers, their cries reaching the ears of those on the approaching ships and sending everyone into a panic.
"It looks like our invitation was accepted." Aegon said, standing next to Sansa on deck, both of them staring at the sight ahead.
Sansa took a deep breath, her hand reaching out for Aegon's and holding it tight. There were a score of ships in the harbor, which could only mean that Daenerys had brought her armies with her. Whether that was a good or ominous portent, only time would tell.
"Nothing's on fire… yet."
"Let's hope we manage to keep it that way."
They docked and disembarked alongside the ships from Meereen, but there was no sight of the Dragon Queen herself until they entered the main keep, where they found her surrounded by a retinue of men in the courtyard. Blonde hair the same shade as Aegon's was braided intricately back against her head, small bells tied in that jingled softly with each gust of wind. To her right stood a man and a woman Sansa didn't recognize, but Tyrion Lannister was unmistakable to her left.
Jon Conninton and the guards standing around Sansa and Aegon moved in closer, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. Arya also made herself known, standing directly beside Sansa with her dark eyes narrowed at the group of people of strangers.
The woman beside Daenerys cleared her throat and said, "You have the honor of meeting her majesty, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains." The woman finished, an unmistakable tinge of pride on her face as she stepped back.
Jon Connington was quick to the game and cleared his throat. "And you have the honor of meeting his highness, Aegon Targaryen, the Sixth of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Six Kingdoms, and Savior of the Realms." Connington turned, gesturing to Sansa. "You also have the honor of meeting her highness, Sansa Stark, Queen in the North, Protector and Hero of Winterfell."
Aegon stepped forward, standing tall as the wind wiped his cloak around his legs. "It is good to finally meet you, aunt. I'm pleased you've accepted our invitation."
"Whether or not you are the son of my brother remains to be seen. However, in the interest of diplomacy I have been advised to give you the benefit of the doubt until our negotiations have concluded."
"I look forward to proving myself to you."
"Shall we go inside?" Sansa asked plainly, addressing the group at large with as much decorum as she could muster under the circumstances..
"Let's." Aegon said, holding his hand out towards the door.
A very short while later Sansa found herself seated across the table from Daenerys, Tyrion, and the two who were introduced as Missandei and Grey Worm. Aegon, Arya, and Jon Connington sat at the table on Sansa's side, who after a somewhat uncomfortable silence smiled and looked across the table at Tyrion.
"It's good to see you alive and whole, Tyrion."
Aegon, recognizing the name, looked at her and then at Tyrion, who smiled goodnaturedly under Aegon's barely concealed glare.
"And you. War suits you."
"Ahem, yes. Tyrion informed me of your previous relationship; a forced marriage on both sides." Daenerys said carefully, her eyes on Aegon. "I trust you are comfortable with his presence?
"I am." Sansa said, nodding her head as she touched Aegon's leg underneath the table. "In my opinion you've chosen an honorable and trustworthy Hand."
"Thank you." Daenerys said, smiled kindly at Tyrion. "He's proven to be an invaluable asset."
This surprised Sansa. The cold, ruthless woman she'd been imagining seemed to be anything but as of yet, and treated those closest to her with a sort of kindness that hadn't been expected.
There was a little more small talk before they transitioned into what Sansa liked to think of as the inquisition portion of the negotiations, each side carefully asking and answering questions, testing the boundaries. Jon had just finished retelling his rescue of Aegon as an infant and the following years raising him in exile, to which Sansa noted Daenerys seemed to lose some of her suspicion.
After presenting the more recent events to his aunt, Aegon asked, "And so, if I may be so blunt, if I'm able to convince you of my heritage, will you accept my right to the throne? Or will you continue with your plan to bring the rest of your forces here?"
The Targaryen chose her words carefully, her hands clasped together on the table. "If I were to do that, accept your claim, that is, what would become of all my work?"
"You could continue it, in Essos, with our support. My conquest will eventually come to an end, at which point the Golden Company will be ready to move on. With their numbers in addition to your own you'll be able to conquer the entire continent. Together we'll be able to be able to build an empire that spans further than our ancestors could have ever imagined. What better revenge could there be against the past than that?"
Daenerys seemed to mull all over this over, exchanging a look with Tyrion in the process, before speaking. "As difficult as it's been to imagine abandoning my claim to the Iron Throne, I want even less to fight another Targaryen. There are so very few of us left, I would not doom our line to extinction to secure the crown." She paused briefly, and then continued. "That being said, so far you have nothing to prove your claim beyond the account of your Hand and our likeness. Might I offer a proposition? A test, if you will, that will determine whether or not you a truely a Targaryen?"
Sansa felt the bottom of her stomach fall suddenly away, leaving her with an empty feeling as Aegon spoke.
"What are you suggesting?"
"Dragons."
After politely excusing themselves Sansa and Aegon retreated to their rooms to discuss Daenerys' proposition, his mind racing as they stepped inside and closed the door.
Sansa wasted no time, speaking quietly but with great feeling. "You know that I above all believe in you, but please, I beg you, in the name of the Mother if you do this you have to promise me that you know what you're doing."
He took another look over his shoulder towards the door and the world beyond it, then back to her. He cupped her face with one hand while the other rested on her stomach. "If I'm to ensure our child has a safe world to grow up in, a stable kingdom to rule, I have to do this. If I don't, the question of my legitimacy will never cease, and that is not a legacy I plan to leave our son or daughter with."
Sansa's mouth nearly fell open and she stumbled over her words. "You… How did you know…?"
"It's been almost three months since you've bled, not that I was counting, but we do share a bedchamber."
"If you've known then why haven't you said anything?"
He shrugged his shoulders a little, smiling softly. "I knew you'd tell me when you were ready to, but given the circumstances, well, I thought it best we get it out in the open."
Sansa kissed him and squeezed his hands tightly. "Aegon, I can't lose you."
"You won't. Not today. I plan on meeting this child and any more that may follow."
This seemed to bring her some comfort, but very little. She smiled dejectedly and said, "Let's go and be done with it, then."
It was decided that the test would take place on the beach at sunset and word spread like wildfire throughout the castle and its inhabitants.
The witnesses gathered along one side of the beach, giving Aegon, Daenerys, and her dragons a wide berth. Sansa watched in frozen horror as he walked directly towards Daenerys, terror coursing through her entire body. She held her breath until she could hold it no longer and exhaled, her hands shaking. She stretched one out wildly looking for support and found it in the hands of her sister, who stepped forward to stand beside her.
She could feel the palpable tension from the crowd of people behind her, all of them completely silent as the dragons began to react to Aegon's approach with screeches of an indiscernible nature. She looked at their mother, her face still unchanged, though Sansa thought she could see a twinge of curiosity behind the mask.
Aegon was closer now, much closer. Should one of them choose to do so, they could end his life at any point and in a variety of ways, all of which Sansa's mind kindly played out for her in the long seconds it took for Aegon to come to a stop in the center of the three dragons. Aegon's life, her future, the future of the kingdoms and humanity all stood at the mercy of Daenerys Targaryen, to whom Sansa now prayed.
Nothing happened for what seemed like a very long time, all of the dragons paying Aegon little mind and showing only vague curiosity, all until Aegon seemed to focus his attention on one who seemed to be paying attention back. She remembered very well that the great black dragon was Drogon, named after the Queen's beloved husband, and that the others were named for her two brothers.
'Rhaegal.' Sansa thought, finding it morbidly fitting, watching the two negotiate with each other while the other dragons sat by observing. She nearly fainted when the creature opened its mouth in what Sansa thought was a prelude to an attack, only to have it emit a sort of chittering, chirping noise. Aegon extended his hand and Rhaegal sniffed it, further confusing Sansa, who had no idea what to expect. She looked at Daenerys and found an explanation in utter astonishment on the Targaryen's face.
They all watched in mesmerized fascination as Rhaegal dipped a shoulder and thrust it towards Aegon, who was quick to the game. With only a moment's hesitation Aegon climbed onto said shoulder and then swung up onto the dragon's neck, an almost childlike gleam of excitement in his eyes.
She almost felt relieved until the dragon stretched its wings, a sure sign of imminent flight. Sansa's hands moved to her stomach, subconsciously seeking comfort in the presence of her unborn child as the dragon leapt into the air, her husband on its back. She looked to Daenerys frantically, who met Sansa's eyes briefly before climbing atop Drogon.
"I'll bring him back, I promise." She shouted down at Sansa, who felt her heart begin to beat faster than she was sure was safe. She tried to take a deep breath and failed, tried another and got through it, forcing herself to breath as even as she possibly could.
'He'll be safe, he'll come back. She said she'll bring him back.' From Daenerys reaction this display must have been proof enough, though Sansa felt little comfort from that in the moment.
Arya, in a rare moment of sympathy, put her arms around Sansa's shoulders, whispering, "If she doesn't bring him back I'll slit her throat."
Despite herself Sansa laughed hysterically, one hand going to her mouth to stifle it. Arya meant it, but for some reason the nonchalant way it had been said was oddly comical and it made her heart feel ever so slightly lighter.
"Thank you." Sansa said, her eyes back on the dragons in the sky.
She wasn't sure how long the pair were gone for, only that it seemed like hours. Despite being urged to go inside and rest until they returned, Sansa stayed put, her eyes and ears sharply focused.
The cries of the dragons served as an overture to their return, the sharp, rattling screeches piercing the sky shortly before the trio burst through the clouds overhead. Sansa cried out in pure joy as she saw that both riders were still atop their mounts, unable to stop herself from running towards them as they drifted gracefully down to the ground. The dragons chirped in something that seemed like delight as the two Targaryen's disembarked, a look of begrudging acceptance on Daenerys' face.
Sansa stopped halfway across the beach and then looked up at the dragons, thinking better of it. Aegon noticed this and looked at Daenerys who nodded.
"They won't hurt you." Daenerys said, extending a hand towards Sansa. "Come."
When she hesitated Daenerys walked over, took her arm and placed a hand on her back, leading her slowly towards Aegon and the dragons. "These are my children, trust me. They won't try to harm you."
Sansa shared a look with Daenerys, who smiled with such reassurance that Sansa felt some of her fear melt away. 'She really is Aegon's aunt…' Sansa thought, unable to ignore the sudden resemblance in mannerisms.
As she reached Aegon's side the three dragons had settled down, each of them lounging on the stone. Much like Dragonstone, it was impossible to deny the beauty of the creatures, and she said as much, making Daenerys laugh.
"I'm glad you think so, I have a feeling your future may be filled with the sight of them."
"What do you mean?" Sansa asked.
"I've made a decision. I will support your claim, nephew. More than that, I will journey to the North alongside you and help you defeat this Night King."
"As grateful as I am, I can't help but ask… Why? Because I was able to ride one of the dragons?" Aegon was carefully guarding his face as he spoke, but Sansa could see the hope shining through.
"That, and…" Daenerys said, looking up at the dragons and then down at the ground for a brief moment. "I've told you that these are my children, and I mean it. I will bear no sons or daughters. I gave that up years ago… However," She said, looking back and forth between the two. "I can see that's not the case for you. You're well on your way to restoring the Targaryen name, to oppose you now would be incredibly selfish. Instead, I will do what I can to assure your victory here before returning to Essos."
With a swell of emotion she couldn't fight, Sansa flung her arms around the elder Targaryen, tears running down her face as Daenerys' arms slowly wrapped around Sansa's middle.
"Thank you… Just… Thank you."
Later that evening there was a small feast held and Aegon felt that his hopes had never been higher. Beyond the sheer exhilaration of riding atop a dragon, he'd confirmed his suspicions that Sansa was with child and she practically shined next to him, her joy infecting those around her. She was telling his aunt of her brief marriage to the Hand, Tyrion, the pair taking turns sharing pieces of the story.
"We made the best of a situation neither of us had a say in. I'm only sorry that my having fled made things more difficult for you." Sansa said, taking a sip of wine as she finished.
"I'll admit that I was rather thrown at the time, but looking back… They probably would have skipped the trial and executed us right on the spot."
Daenerys, who seemed taken aback by the imagined actions, shook her head. "Were it not for the war in the North I'd say we move on to King's Landing. I'd like to see Cersei fall from power sooner rather than later. "
"If we can't manage to stop the Night King, at least he'll take care of Cersei for us." Sansa mused, a sort of morbid detachment clear in her voice.
"Well, there's one silver lining. I say we drink to it." Tyrion said, lifting his cup and taking a long drink.
Sansa and Daenerys followed suit, though they didn't consume nearly the volume the Lannister did. Aegon was honestly surprised he was still standing, and credited the man for his constitution.
"You've done well, your highness." Olenna Tyrell said from his other side, also observing the chatting trio.
"Thank you, but… It's moments like these that I must stop and remind myself that this is only the beginning."
"True, and yet the path forward continues to pave itself beneath your feet. Surely that counts for something?"
"More than you know, lady Olenna. It's what gives me hope, what tells me I've made and continue to make the right choices."
The supply line of mined dragonglass was truely up and running when they eventually departed Dragonstone. They traveled along it, returning with more men and supplies than they'd had when they left thanks to the Tyrell reinforcements, along with the fortuitous arrival of Robyn Aryn and his fleet.
Sansa found herself quite enjoying the Mother of Dragon's company as they all passed long hours on the ship. Even Arya, who made it a point to be standoffish to everyone, was beginning to warm up to Daenerys as they crossed the Fingers and began to near White Harbor.
The three women sat in Sansa's personal cabin one evening, Daenerys and Arya having been sent by an anxious and yet busy Aegon. Sansa picked up another lemon cake, all of her attention fixed on her new aunt and the story she was telling.
"That was when I knew there was no other choice. I had been through so much, all of it forcing me towards who I was meant to be. I walked into that pyre and my entire world changed. That night I said goodbye to the greatest love of my life, and the next morning I was given three children, three blessings."
"And you didn't burn?" Arya asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Arya." Sansa said, wanting to toss what was left of the lemon cake at her sister's head.
Daenerys laughed kindheartedly, shaking her head. "It's nothing to worry about, a fair question in fact. No, I didn't burn. Except for dragonfire I haven't encountered a situation in which fire hurts me at all."
"Hm." Arya said, a curious note to the noise. "I wonder what wildfire would do."
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Sansa replied. "Gods willing there isn't any left in the world."
"I agree, I'd rather not find out, especially after what happened last time it was used. Now, onto a happier subject for a bit. Have you made any decisions about what you'll be naming your little prince or princess?"
Sansa shook her head and rested one hand on the now noticeable swell of her stomach. "No, it's quite difficult. Aegon and I have lost so many deserving of the honor that we're having trouble deciding."
"Have you thought about going further back in your family's lineages?"
She shook her head again. "There's so much buried in the history of both our houses, I'd rather not dig up more than necessary."
"I can understand that." Daenerys said, tilting her head to the side. "Well, I'm sure the right name will come when it needs to."
It was encouraging to see the amount of dragonglass being moved along supplyline as they marched towards Winterfell, however the weather was anything but. Halfway to the castle Sansa began to notice it getting colder, each day the chill penetrating further and further into her bones.
For the sake of her child she'd chosen to ride in a covered wagon, heaped high with furs to keep the cold out. It was slow moving through the snow and often the entire train would have to stop and dig something free of a rut, leaving everyone but Sansa exhausted by the time they would stop for the night. Every once and a while Arya or Daenerys would ride in the wagon for a time but for the most part she was left well alone for much of each day. As it was difficult to sew or write with gloves, she mostly read and ate, occupying her mind with stories and songs as she used to as a young girl.
Sometime nearly a month after leaving White Harbor Sansa was sitting next to Daenerys in the wagon, the pair of them reading back and forth to each other out loud when they slowed to a halt. They looked at each other curiously and then Aegon's face appeared between the flaps of the wagon, his nose bright red above a large grin.
"We've made it, we've reached the outer camps. You two go on ahead, I'll see to things here and then join you at the castle."
"Very well." Sansa said, unable to hold back her own smile as the wagon returned to motion.
With Daenerys' help she extricated herself from the furs and pulled her black cloak around her shoulders, the fur tickling her face a little as it settled. She sat the crown Aegon had gifted her atop her head as they crossed the threshold of the main gate, the sound of people cheering her return immediate and heartwarming.
She stepped out into a crowded courtyard, helped down by her sister as the cheering soared. With one hand resting proudly on her stomach she waved with the other to her brothers and Maggie as they approached.
"Welcome home, sister." Jon said, hugging her gently and letting her go. "Thought we were a bit short on reinforcements, eh?"
Maggie, tears running down her face and clutching a bit of cloth, bowed formally. "Your majesty."
"Oh stop it," Sansa said, pulling the old woman in for a tight hug. "I've missed you Maggie, it's good to see you."
"And you, your highness." Maggie sniffled as they parted. "To think, a child, the joy."
Sansa smiled warmly and held on to Maggie's hand as she turned back to the wagon. "We've brought someone with us that I'd like you all to meet."
Daenerys stepped out of the wagon and Sansa cleared her throat. "I present Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of Essos and Protector of the People, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains. She has come to help ensure our victory against the Night King and his army."
Everyone in the courtyard erupted in applause again but it died down as shrill cries appeared and grew in intensity, the form of a dragon clear over head. Each face looked to Sansa, who put on the most reassuring smile in her arsenal.
"Please, everyone, there is nothing to fear. These creatures may be frightening, but so are our direwolves. They pose no threat to us, only the dead."
There was a much more mixed response to this statement, but it was to be expected. Dragons had been dead for centuries, it would take more than a little getting used to.
As the crowd began to disperse, Sansa led them inside to the council chambers where she was able to stretch out in front of the fire, her body beginning to warm for the first time in a month. The others gathered in chairs around her and were still exchanging pleasantries when Aegon finally joined them, sitting next to Sansa on the chaise. After a time Tyrion and Jon Connington joined them, completing the unofficial council.
Jon Snow gave them a concise reporting of the state of the castle and their progress on smithing weapons, the numbers of the latter having increased since the arrival of blacksmiths from the Vale.
"Oh, on that note, there are around fifteen smiths from the Reach in the party, will there be enough room for them to work?" Sansa asked, sipping on a bit of warm cider.
"Aye, there will be, even if we have to construct a few more forges. We've made quite a few swords and spears, but the arrowheads are slow going, more skilled hands will be a godsend."
"And you've started sending more men out for wood, yes?"
"Yes, we tripled the amount of axmen, they're working in shifts to collect as much as possible."
"I don't think you could have taken better care of Winterfell in my absence Jon, thank you."
"I'd hold your thanks, that was the good bit of the news."
"Well then, let's have the bad bit." She said, sitting up a little straighter.
"There have been sightings of wights near East Watch, all of them headed directly towards the sea. They've given up on trying to get through or over the wall, they're going around it."
"Bran, have your ravens been able to confirm this?"
Bran nodded. "Yes, they're watching now, waiting by the shore for them to surface."
"I sent a raven to the Wall a few weeks back, they're going to regroup and move south, try and make it here before the Night King does."
Sansa felt her stomach turn and her heart begin to race but took a deep breath and said, "Good. How long?"
"By the way their army is moving our best guess anywhere between three and four months until they reach the castle."
As if to remind her the child inside her kicked her mercilessly and Sansa pressed a hand lightly against the side of her stomach. She looked at Aegon, feeling a growing sense of hopelessness as he rested his hand on top of hers.
"We'll need to prepare a space for the women and children, somewhere they'll be safe during the battle. Any ideas?" He asked, looking around at the group.
"The crypts?" Arya offered.
"I'd say they were perfect, if they weren't lined with the dead." Sansa said, tilting her head to the side. "We don't know what the Night King is capable of, we can't be certain that he won't use our own ancestors against us."
"Then we move them. As many as we have to, further down into the crypts and then wall it off."
"I wouldn't usually condone grave-robbing, but I think given the circumstances the departed Starks will forgive us." Tyrion agreed, looking around the room to gauge everyone else.
With a grimace Sansa nodded her head. "We'll need to begin straight away. Jon, I hate to lean on you further, but could you see to it?"
"I'll have men start on it at dawn."
"Thank you. Now, it goes without saying that I'll be one of those in the shelter, but who else? I'll either be extremely pregnant or busy with a newborn."
"Me." Tyrion said with a sigh. "I'll be no use to anyone during the battle, only before and afterwards."
"Missandei will join you." Daenerys stated, looking at her friend who stood across the room.
"The three of us then." Sansa smiled warily at her would-be companions. "The rest of you will have to fight for us."
Aegon found himself well and truly alone with his wife for the first time in a month and they spent the first few hours in bed, reacquainting themselves with each other's bodies and whispering small things to one another between the sheets. It was dark outside when they surfaced, by his estimate sometime around midnight, but he could see figures moving around in the courtyard below. Sansa joined him at the window and he felt her take his arm and rest her head on his shoulder.
"It's impressive." Aegon said, nodding toward the workers moving about below. "Your brother has proven himself more than capable."
"Mhm." She hummed. "I'm going to make a formal offer to him tomorrow."
"Jon Snow, Warden of the North." Aegon said, testing it out. "Or, Jon Stark, perhaps?"
Sansa shook her head. "I've asked him before and he declined. I don't quite understand his reasoning, but he seems to have found some peace around it all."
"Snow it is. Ah, speaking of." As if summoned by their words Jon strode into the courtyard, a group of men with hammers and pickaxes trailing behind him. "Looks like he's getting a head start on the work in the crypts. Good man." The urge to join the party was strong and he thought about slipping out once Sansa was asleep to lend a hand.
"I hate that I won't be able to fight with you all."
"I know…" He said, turning and gathering her into his arms. "But you have a greater responsibility right now."
It gave him a small sense of peace to know she would be protected, even if he wouldn't be there himself. He had a good bit of concern about extracting them after the battle, and couldn't even think about what would happen to them if they were defeated.
During the time they had left Sansa, Bran, and Tyrion worked tirelessly on the overall battle plan. They hoped that with enough preparation they would not only secure victory, but do it with the least amount of lives lost as possible. This meant focusing on their less traditional defensive measures.
Planning on the dragonglass and fire being their most effective tools on the ground, they redirected as many people as they could towards smithing and the collection of black tar. They had the trebuchets arranged along the walls, all of them pointed due north and being serviced for the upcoming battle. In addition, plans were drawn up to have any available armor across the North gathered and reinforced with whatever possible, an attempt to give each man the best chance at survival possible.
Impervious as the three dragons seemed, Sansa thought it would be best to give them some form of armor if possible, and Tyrion offered to put some designs together and see them through to creation.
There was great debate about the plan for the actual battle. Though it had taken a while to convince them, Sansa and Tyrion eventually accepted Bran's notion that the Night King would be coming directly for him. Given Bran's new status as the Three - Eyed Raven it made sense, but however reasonable it was it frightened Sansa. Mostly it made her concerned for her brother's safety, but it also made her question what exactly he was capable of.
If the Night King, the most fearsome threat in history, saw Bran as his enemy, would they be able to trust him when the battle was won?
Assuming the Night King would head for Bran directly, they needed to keep him safe as long as possible, which meant keeping him somewhere in the castle. With the crypt off the table, Bran had calmly insisted that the godswood was the best location and that being near the weirwood tree would help him connect to his ravens. Sansa had several issues with this, all of which Bran shot down with the same placid tone until she eventually gave in.
"So, assuming he takes the most direct path through the castle to the godswood we should set our heavy hitters along his path." Tyrion said, sitting back in his chair.
Sansa shivered a little at the thought, but nodded. "Aegon and Daenerys will be in the air, so that leaves Jon, Arya, and Brienne."
"The three of them are more than capable. They'll be able to take him down before he ever reaches the godswood."
The cold that had descended upon Winterfell in the final month was more harsh than any Sansa had ever experienced, so much so that even the heated walls and blazing hearths were struggling to keep the castle and its inhabitants warm. Despite that cold, spirits seemed to be slightly optimistic, if not high. The keep thrummed night and day as people worked in shifts around the clock, while a constant stream of Northerners marched through the gates. Sansa saw to it that those who were in need were fed and clothed, and any man old enough to fight was fitted with armor and a weapon, but it was nearly a moot point. A few dozen more untrained fighters was unlikely to make a difference. Any and all actual reinforcements had arrived in the weeks prior and all in all they stood nearly forty thousand men strong.
Sansa couldn't help but notice a certain fondness that had developed between Daenerys and Jon, though she wasn't sure this was at all problematic. She mentioned as much to Aegon late one night, who had also noticed the attraction, and he agreed with her even though he was much more occupied with murmuring things to her stomach as it moved visibly. The child inside her pressed a foot firmly against her and they could see the outline of it for a few seconds before it disappeared.
"Now you, little one," Aegon said, kissing her stomach just above her belly button. "I need you to finish up your business and join us out here before the evil dead man arrives."
"Gods willing." Sansa said, more of a prayer than to Aegon. It was becoming more and more difficult for her to move around, and the thought of being in a highly immobile state during the battle was concerning and she shifted uncomfortably.
Aegon moved to sit behind her, his hands kneading her lower back. "I still don't like the idea of the two of you being down there… We should have sent you south, back to Highgarden or to Dragonstone at least. Somewhere you could flee from."
Sansa shook her head, groaning a little as the tightness in her back eased. "We can't split up. Not now, not ever. I won't risk it. Besides, we'll win. I know we will."
Three weeks later Sansa was woken up near dawn by a frantic pounding at their door, making her sit bolt upright in bed. Aegon, more agile and not nine months pregnant, sprang quickly to his feet to receive a panicked Jon Connington.
"Your grace, the boy has had another vision. The army approaches Holdfast and the Crofter's Village. They'll be upon us by nightfall."
Immediately fully awake, Sansa negotiated herself out of bed to the best of her ability and walked over to the two men.
"Your majesty, I'm sorry to have woken you but we'll need to begin the final preparations."
Sansa nodded her head and walked over to where her new, larger cloak lay, the old one too small to fit around her stomach.
"What are you doing?" Aegon asked, having pulled on his trousers and cloak.
"I'm coming with you. There are things I need to oversee, Tyrion will need my help."
"Sansa, you need to rest-"
"According to the maester movement is encouraged at this stage, when possible. I'll rest if I need to, but I won't just sit back and watch. I want to help while I still can."
Three hours later Sansa was standing out on the battlements, every man, woman, and child awake and moving about the castle and the outer campgrounds. Tents were being torn down on the north facing side of the castle and the poles being sharpened into last minute spikes. Anything of value, including the food stores, was being moved down into the crypts ahead of the women and children just in case there was more damage to the castle than expected.
Watching the sky for some sign of the rising sun and not finding it, Sansa turned and made her way over to the staircase where Ayra approached.
"The king is looking for you." Arya said through a mouthful of bread. She swallowed and wiped her mouth before adding, "You're supposed to go rest."
Sansa scoffed. "How anyone could expect me to rest at a time like that is ludicrous."
"I told him you'd likely say as much, but there isn't really anything left for you to do, is there?"
"Not really." Sansa said, answering honestly.
"Then there's no reason for you to stand out here in the cold. Come inside sister."
Giving in to Arya's request, Sansa followed her sister down the stairs and inside to the great hall. Women, children, the eldery, and infirmed were already beginning to gather there in preparation for the move to crypts. She made herself useful by doling out stew and ripping cloth for bandages, anything she could do while sitting.
Hours went by, the underlying current becoming more and more panicked as the morning passed and the afternoon descended upon them. She was getting regular reports from the men outside, most of them having moved into formation out on the field.
By her estimates it was around dusk when Sansa was busy directing a group of mothers to a quiet corner when horns began to sound. It was one, then a few more, then a chorus of them from all sides, signaling those within. The hall began to seethe with moving people, all of them gathering their belongings and children. Fighting through a growing sensation of fear, Sansa began shouting orders until the group was moving in a somewhat orderly fashion towards the crypts, letting a group of guards see them down below while Sansa waited outside, her hand on her stomach as she looked from side to side.
"He promised…" She said to herself, her hands clenched into fists.
Sansa kicked a clump of snow and then looked up, seeing Aegon hurrying towards her with Tyrion trailing behind. She all but threw herself into her husband's arms. He held her as close as he could and kissed the side of her head.
"You made it." She said, pulling away to look up at him.
"I wouldn't have missed it." He said back, smiling as he rested a hand on the round of her stomach.
"How long?"
"An hour, we think. They'll need to start sealing the crypt soon."
They shared a desperate kiss before Aegon led her inside, helping her down the stairs and onto a pile of cushions and furs. He made sure that she was comfortable and well attended to before kneeling in front of her, holding one of her hands in his.
"I love you, Sansa Stark. More than anything in this world, I love you. You have given me more than I ever dreamed of having, and I don't intend on giving it up so soon. Now," He said, a slight wetness in his eyes as he leaned down to kiss the top of her stomach. "You take care of our little one and I'll be back as soon as it's over."
"I love you." She said, unable to say more without breaking the fragile constitution she held. She watched as he stood, turned, and walked away, holding a hand over her mouth as he disappeared up the stairs. She turned and half hid her face in the fur of her cloak, letting the tears fall and her shoulders shake without restraint.
"Your grace…" Tyrion's voice was clear behind her and she sniffed a few times, wiping at her face with the edge of her sleeve.
"Yes? Am I needed?"
"We're being walled in as we speak, you don't need to tend to anyone. If you'd like to be alone-"
"No." She said, straightening up and gesturing to a clump of cushions next to hers. "Come sit."
"I take it that those tears were shed on the king's behalf?" He asked, settling down.
Sansa laughed mirthlessly. "For him, for my family, for my child…" She finished, shifting a little. "I've fought to get here, to be where I am, I'm not ready to lose it."
"You have come quite far. Nothing like the girl I knew in King's Landing."
"Is that a good thing?"
"I should think so. You've managed to unite Westeros under a Targayen king and establish the North as a truly independent kingdom. You've done what most would have considered impossible."
Feeling as though he had left his heart behind, Aegon walked away from the crypt with his right hand clutched firmly around the grip of his sword. He made his way through the courtyard and out through the main gate, the image of Sansa's pale, barely composed face stuck in his mind.
He joined Arya, Jon Snow, Jon Connington, Daenerys, Grey Worm, and Yohn Royce near the back of the rear guard, all of them talking quietly and watching the empty space of the night beyond.
"Your grace." Connington said, stepping aside to make room for Aegon.
"My sister?" Arya asked.
"Safe and in the crypt." Aegon answered, resisting the urge to look back over his shoulder.
"Well then, we'd better hurry and end this as soon as we can. She'll be cross if we leave her down there too long." Snow said.
Aegon nodded before addressing the group. "We all have our orders. Daenerys and I will take to the skies, the rest of you find your posts and be ready."
They dispersed and began to head their separate ways, Daenerys and himself to where the dragons waited on the east side of the castle. Somehow, the addition of Sansa and Tyrion's leather armor made the three all the more terrifying, and fortunately the pieces didn't seem to bother them. He said as much to Daenerys, who smiled and rested a hand on Drogon's side.
"They understand the intent in which it was made and put on them."
"Smart creatures." Aegon said, standing beside Rhaegal. "If we survive the night, it will be largely thanks to them, I'm sure."
Horns began to blow and Aegon felt the temperate drop rapidly, a strange sound filling the empty space between the horn blasts. He looked at Daenerys who nodded. It was time.
A minute later the three dragons and their two riders were in the air, circling the skies above the castle. The fires on the ground below were lit, the flaming barricades lighting up the area as they crossed over them.
They spotted the army about a quarter mile north of the castle, a ghastly, shambling sight that went on as far as one could see. Aegon couldn't take his eyes off of them at first, a morbid curiosity taking over and he dipped lower to get a better look at this long awaited enemy.
The dead below all but stumbled forward, moving so slowly that they appeared to be standing still at first glance. They seemed to take no notice of the dragons above them, save for twelve riders on horseback, who watched them with piercing, hollow blue eyes. One of the twelve stood out among the rest, something like a crown resting atop his head.
With eerie calculation the crowned rider raised and threw the spear in his hand directly at Aegon and Rhaegal, something like a smirk on his emotionless face. The blade just barely missed, Rhaegal having dipped to the side at the just right moment. A great gust of wind swept through the sky, kicking up snow and sending it flying. His view of the ground below obscured, Aegon directed Rhaegal higher into the sky until the snow settled some. When it did, he could see that the army below was now moving towards the castle at a run, the group of riders and the Night King nowhere to be seen.
Two great flames appeared in the sky below him and Rhaegal dove down to join his brothers in the fight, his own flames joining the conflagration moments later.
Even though they were in the crypts, Sansa could hear much of what was going on up on the surface, and so it was obvious when the fighting began. All the adults did their best to keep the children calm and quiet, even going as far to tie strips of cloth around their ears to block out the sound of chaos above. Sansa, holding the baby of a woman busy with her other children, would bend her head down in desperate prayer over the child each time the walls shook.
She began to lose track of time, the fear so strong that each second felt like hours. At one point in a moment of somewhat stillness, Sansa looked at Tyrion. His face was drawn and his eyes fixed on the door above.
"It will hold." She whispered, shifting the child in her arms.
He nodded and sat back. "It sounds like there are giants walking around up there."
"Jon said there likely would be giants in the army. He saw one at Hardhome."
This only made Tyrion look up at the ceiling in terror and take a drink of his flask as the walls began to shake again.
Feeling an ache in her lower back, Sansa sat the child down on the furs beside her and moved to stand, only to feel a warmth spread around her hips. Careful of the baby beside her she began to pull back the furs from her lap until she reached the layers of skirts underneath. She quickly pulled them up around her thighs and thrust her hand between her legs. Missandei, who'd been reading a book nearby, noticed this and walked over to crouch beside her.
The woman looked to Tyrion and whispered harshly, "Get Maggie and the maesters, now."
"It's happening, isn't it?" Sansa asked.
Missandei nodded, giving Sansa what was likely supposed to be a reassuring smile. "It's beginning to."
"What impeccable timing." Tyrion said, disappearing around the corner.
The maesters were quick to action, arranging pillows and calling for some of the mothers to come assist. Within a few minutes they had moved the cushions and furs, covering the floor in a fresh fur where Sansa was laid. Maggie took up a post at her side and Sansa was more grateful than ever for the implacable woman. It wasn't nearly the same as having Aegon beside her, but Sansa knew she could trust Maggie with her life, and in turn her child's life.
It took around an hour for the pains to start, at which point her groans became so near screams that one of the mothers shoved a piece of leather between her teeth, bidding her to bite down while she brushed the hair from Sansa's face. She began to drip with sweat despite the chill in the crypt, and she vehemently pushed back any attempts to cover her body. Time passed and she fell into a cycle, trying to rest her body as much as possible in between the pangs, but it was so sparse it hardly made a difference.. Every so often one of the mother's would peek down between her legs, each time shaking her head as she resurfaced. When it did finally come time for her to push Sansa was lifted carefully into a crouching position, the hands of several women holding her up.
Aegon wasn't sure how long he'd been in the air when he pulled Rhaegal back, but it was getting too difficult to make sure his flames hit their intended targets and not his own soldiers. He watched Daenerys do the same, Drogon and Viserion climbing higher into the sky. Rather than join them, Aegon chose to circle the castle, trying to find the Night King in the mass of roiling figures on the ground.
He thought he saw him nearing the northern gate and dipped low to try and get a better look, only for Rhaegal to scream and stutter in his flight, veering dramatically to the right. Wings beat frantically about him as they plummeted towards the ground, Aegon's heart and stomach dropping with equal velocity.
Hitting the ground at an angle the pair slid thirty some feet before coming to stop, dragon and rider thoroughly shaken. Once he'd found his bearings again Aegon crawled down off Rhaegal, finding the cause of the near crash immediately.
One of the spears the Night King had brandished was stuck firmly in the dragon's thigh, but before he could try to remove it the dead were upon him.
Aegon reached for the sword at his hip and drew it, turning to face the oncoming wights. Rhaegal sensed the danger and righted himself as best he could, spitting flames angrily onto the ground around them. This provided some protection, but more importantly it lit the surrounding area. Aegon easily cut through the first several fighters while Rhaegal did what work he could, but he knew it was a losing battle from the start. They had landed somewhere on the west side of the castle, well away from the main forces and any chance of help.
Screaming with rage, sadness, and grief, Aegon took the head off one wight before turning to push back another, striking furiously with his fist. Sansa's face was fixed permanently in his mind, the promise he'd made her becoming a mantra as he continued to hold what ground he could.
Deliverance came from the sky in a blazing twin inferno that swallowed up the dead, leaving nothing but leaping flames in their wake. Aegon looked up and saw Drogon swoop by, Daenerys crouched low on his back as the two drew in for a landing.
"You don't know how glad I am to see you." Aegon said to his aunt as her feet hit the ground at a run towards Rhaegal. "He took a spear to the thigh, I don't think it's too bad but I couldn't get to it."
Looking at the spear for a few quick seconds Daenerys nodded her head. "Together, then. Quickly, while Drogon and Viserion have them under control."
While Daenerys coaxed Rhaegal into a semblance of calm, Aegon took the spear in hand and yanked it loose before tossing it to the ground with a hiss. The thing was so cold that it had worked through his gloves and into his hands, making his skin burn. The feeling started to dull after a few seconds but he looked at the dragon with sympathy. A regular spear would have been painful, something that cold would have been downright unbearable.
"We need to get back up there, the fighting has moved inside the walls and we'll have a clear shot at those still outside the castle."
"The crypt?"
"I couldn't see, not from that distance."
Climbing atop Rhaegal once more they took to the skies, heading directly for the castle. The fog had grown more dense, obscuring his view to the point where he was barely able to make out individual shapes on the ground despite how low he was flying. The only thing he could see with any clarity was how dire the situation was becoming. A decision to retreat inside the walls would have only been made under great pressure, and by one man, Jon Snow.
Praying for those fighting on foot, Aegon joined Daenerys in beating back the dead outside the walls, their numbers stretching out into the darkness, seemingly endless. They were in the air for around an hour with no end in sight when a shift happened, the movements of the wights on the ground coming to an abrupt halt. Aegon swooped down towards the ground and watched as the army of the dead quite literally crumbled to pieces.
Rhaegal landed them just outside the northern gate and Aegon found himself moving with single mindedness towards the crypt. It was slow moving due to the sheer number of bodies to navigate around, but he made steady progress. He found Brienne and Podrick in poor shape yet still alive, who joined him wordlessly.
There were entire walls and sections of the battlements that were reduced to rubble, bodies heaped high around the damage and in some places they had to crawl over chunks of stone.
When the entrance to the crypt finally came within sight his heart nearly broke in half.
Most of the stone that comprised the edifice of the crypt had crumbled, blocking the doorway. There were already men working on clearing the rubble and Aegon joined them, ruthlessly grabbing and throwing chunks of stone to the side. It took hours for them to clear the door, in which time both Jon Snow, Jon Connington, Arya, and Greyworm arrived to lend their hands to the cause. Once there was no stone left in the way they tried to pry the door free of the frame, but ended up having to take several axes to the thick wood to finally breach the crypt.
Breathing heavily Aegon dropped his ax and stumbled inside, darkness engulfing him until he reached the bottom of the staircase. The torches had burned low during the battle, emitting a faint but still effective light as he strode down the stone corridor. He walked straight to the alcove he'd left Sansa in and stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide.
She lay in the middle of the furs propped up by several cushions, a cloth wrapped bundle held to her breast while she half slept, the blue of her eyes barely visible through the slits of her eyelids. In a daze he moved, walking to her side and dropping to his knees next to her. This seemed to wake her from her cloud of exhaustion and her eyes met his, a tired yet full smile on her lips.
"You're here…" She said, tears beginning to slide down her pale cheeks. "Gods, you're here."
"I am." He said, tearing off his gloves so that he could cup her face as his own eyes began to sting. "I see you've been busy."
She nodded, shifting the bundle in her arms slightly. "Would you like to meet your daughter?"
"More than anything."
Carefully Sansa detached the child from her breast and pulled the cloth back, revealing a bright pink face that seemed on the verge of crying until he reached out and touched her tiny chin. His daughter's face relaxed and with it his heart melted into a puddle of warmth, completely transfixed. A dusting of white blonde hair peeked out at him, igniting a sense of pride he didn't expect to feel.
"Have you named her?"
"Yes. For your mother, Elia."
Aegon met his wife's eyes. "Are you sure?"
"Very. The moment I laid eyes on her I knew."
"Elia, it is." He said, smiling more than he ever thought possible after the battle he'd just fought. "Born during the longest night."
"Elia Nightborn." Daenerys said, having materialized somewhere behind his shoulder. "Such an entrance deserves to be remembered."