Her chest burned, the cold stone floors of Winterfell's Great Hall sent an ache through her body. The steady rush of blood from her chest, gave an eerie warmth by comparison. She could feel a hand at her chest, pushing on the wound, a panicked girl trying to stem the flow of blood. The room started to spin now, everything looked vague, she had known this room her whole life, and in mere moments it had started to look strange. "Get the Maester." The girl called out. Her words were echoing in Sansa's ears, distant as if she were calling from a long way away.

Sansa looked beyond the girl, Cerwyn, or at least the person that had been wearing his face, leapt above her masked bodyguard, leaping from floors to walls, there was a ring of steel as Sansa's warrior brought down both Oathkeeper and Widow's Wail. As her vision blurred, a guard screamed out "seize him." Sansa tried to follow the fight, yet the ringing of swords gave way to the ringing of a chain. Her Maester in his black robes loomed over her. "There's too much blood." He spoke gravely "Take her to my laboratory."

Sansa felt weightless now, she felt herself rising from the cold stone floors. She felt herself being lifted, and rushed through the halls of her castle. For how long she could not say, darkness would claim her, and then she would fight back, forcing her eyes open, and seeing the world. She knew a fight continued as she was carried from her hall.

She opened her eyes as she was placed on a wooden bench. She was disoriented now, but she was aware of some things, her Maester went to work straight away, there were guards and servants rushing about. In the chaos, a girl kept a damp cloth on her forehead, the water fell from the cloth onto her face, like a thin drizzle.

The Maester had bandages and cloth, they were all soaked with blood. He let out a frustrated sigh. "What's happening Maester?" A stern voice asked, a portly man with snow white hair, a Merman on his cloak, had come into what was now the Maester's operating room.

"I can't stop it." The Maester sighed in frustration as yet another white dressing became red with blood.

"Well you had best do something Maester."

Maester Wolkan paused for a moment to look down at The Queen, he swallowed hard. "I need the witch."

Wyman Manderly gave a wary shake of the head before turning to one of his guardsmen "find her witch."

…

The door to the Maester's chambers swung open with an unnatural strength, a short ageing woman, with plants woven into her hair entered the room. She wore thick paint around her eyes, and had strange spells adorned on her face. Her clothes were layers of green and brown wools and boiled leathers. She silently looked at each person in the room. Before looking at the Queen, she scattered a handful of powder into the Maester's brazier. There was a burst of flame. She reached into a pouch and pulled out several small bones before rolling them onto a table. She watched how they fell and muttered an incantation in a long dead language. She went to the Queen's side and placed a finger into her wound. She brought the blood to her mouth, and took a taste.

"The Red Queen fades."

"That's why I sent for you." The Maester nodded as he mixed a compound.

"Should have sent for me sooner." The witch shrugged "Magy's good with the Gods, but it looks like they've already called this one. I hope you know your trade, Maester."

"I do."

"Good." She nodded "This will take both of our powers."

"You have to do something." The young Lady in waiting pleaded, "I've seen your power before, there must be something you can do."

"There is always something, girl." The witch nodded "But this is not a simple transaction with the Gods…. There's two to save."

The Maester hesitated for a moment "We may have to choose one."

The witch looked around "Not today Maester." She began to chant and light incense around the room. A sheep was brought into the room, the witch brought a dragon glass knife from beneath her robes, with a single slice she brought the blade across the beast's throat. The witch allowed herself to be covered in the spray, before she kept chanting.

"She opened her eyes." The young Lady in waiting exclaimed.

The witch cast her glance to the Maester "It's not the Red Queen's time."

…

Sansa writhed on the table, for the first time she was able to move, she ignored the Maester, the Witch and the girl and with her first movement brought her hand to rest on her swollen stomach. "My baby…" she choked. The Red Queen was fighting now, but her eyes were still so heavy. Against every effort, her eyelids closed again. "No" she cried as the room filled with the same eerie blue light she had seen before, like a wave it covered her again.

When she opened her eyes she was no longer laying on her Maester's table. She found herself alone, standing on the fallen leaves of the Godswood. She let out a cry of frustration, she had been so close to getting home. She rested her hand on her swollen stomach. It was night in the Godswood, there was no moon, and no stars, a thin drizzle fell upon her. This Godswood seemed vast, like an ancient forest, an imposing sight, she had no idea where to go. She was sure to get lost.

A rustle in the bushes near to her, the Queen turned with a start. "Lady?" She called out almost desperately, before breaking into a smile. Her faithful guide had not abandoned her. The wolf broke into a run, darting through trees and over hedges Sansa had to run to keep up with her. "Lady wait!" Sansa called as she desperately chased the wolf.

She had come to a clearing, a great bone white tree with a carved face and canopy of blood red leaves awaited her. The ancient timber weirwood loomed over its reflective pool. The face of the weirwood stared a hole into her. "This is where you've been leading me, isn't it girl, this whole time?" The direwolf silently slinked behind a bush. "Lady" Sansa called out. A wolf did not emerge from the other side of the bush, but a bird did. It's obsidian black feathers melted into the night, as its three onyx eyes stared a hole into her. "Brandon." She whispered as the bird took wing and left her there.

She thought she had been left alone, until she heard the ringing of metal, then again, and again. She thought it a battle at first, but then realised it was not steel on steel, but stone on steel. She swallowed and followed the edge of the pond to the ancient weirwood. Beneath its blood red canopy a stern looking man sits with the ancient tree, drawing a wet stone along the blade of a Great Sword. The Queen feels her eyes well up "Hello father."