Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Ice and Fire Novels, Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon TV shows. However, I decided to have a little play around with the characters. I do not earn any money from writing these stories, it is for my entertainment and is something I like to share.

Warning, depictions of human sacrifice and major character deaths.

Sansa VII

Helping the injured had certainly stopped Sansa from having to dwell on matters of what was going on outside. Her job was to sew up the wounds and bandage them. Then depending on the severity of the injury, decide whether the man was fit to return to battle or required a bed and some milk of the poppy. That was until the injuries got heavier and Tyrion joined her to manage the people coming in. Sansa was aware there was going to be a chance the men from the castle would have to fight in the field, she just didn't expect Jon to be fighting with them. The reports she'd heard were that they were winning, despite the sheer volume of men coming in to be patched up. Some of the wounded they treat were even Unsullied themselves. They'd be placed in a cell once it they happy the men would live.

Sansa was familiar with the sounds of battle. She had been a bystander to a few. She'd heard the horns blow, shields clash, mens screams. This time, despite actually helping in the effort, yet she felt more useless than ever. As the hours rolled by, her stomach churned, sewing became ever harder as her cold fingers shook at the prospect of losing Jon or Arya. This was exacerbated when a seriously wounded Pod was brought in.

Tyrion rushed over to be beside his one time squire. Sansa could see from his injuries Pod wasn't going to last the night, and all they could do was give him milk of the poppy to make his last hours more comfortable. Pod was taken to his room, where Tyrion sat with him, trying to comfort him away from the clamour and noise of the makeshift hospital in the Great Hall.

A huge weight off Sansa's mind arrived in the shape of Arya, who apart from being covered in mud and blood, she looked non-worse for wear. Apart from when she scuttled off into a corner and threw up before heading towards Sansa.

"Need any help?" Arya asked as Sansa washed her hands, preparing herself to tend to her next patient.

"I'm not sure if your sewing skills are up to it." Sansa tried to joke, but failing miserably.

"I worked with the faceless men. I know how to stitch skin and I'm wonderful at chopping, especially through bone." Arya smiled innocently. "Ask the Freys. Oh, on second thoughts you can't. I killed most of them." she shrugged.

"There some men over there whose wounds might need stitching." Sansa suggested, but she couldn't let Arya go just yet. "Did you see Jon out there?" she asked.

Arya shook her head. "We were fighting at the south side of the castle, Jon was holding the north. I think word would have spread if he were dead because I heard Pod was seriously injured."

"He won't last the night." Sansa lowered her eyes. "I just wish Jon would hurry up and come back."

"The battle is over, so he should be back soon." Arya tried to reassure her when suddenly a scuffle at the entrance to the Great Hall distracted her. Sansa and Arya looked over towards the noise to see what was going on.

"Get out of my fucking way!" Tormund shouted. "I need the Maester, he's the fucking King!"

Those words were enough for Sansa and Arya, they ran towards Tormund, who was carrying Jon's lifeless body in his arms.

"What happened?" she asked as Tormund lay Jon down on a table, where it was clear he was still breathing, much to Sansa's relief.

"He thought he could take on the entire Unsullied, the arrogant bastard." Tormund complained. "Although he might still have won. He killed Greyworm as well as at least a dozen other Unsullied. He might be small, but he's fast." he said.

"Idiot!" Arya muttered.

Sansa nodded as she looked at Jon's wounds. Blood was seeping out of the side of his body, there was blood matted in his beautiful hair from a small wound on the side of his head, but they were the only injuries she could see.

"We need to get this off." she started to unfasten his gambeson.

"Not here." Tormund whispered as Davos and a man she had never seen before joined them. "Don't let anyone else see his scars."

Sansa nodded. "Take him to our chambers." she instructed, nodding towards Maester Wolkan. "Jon becomes the number one priority." she said as they followed Maester Wolkan to her and Jon's chambers.

Tormund lay Jon down on the bed and Sansa removed the gambeson and his tunic. The wound to his side turned out to be nothing more than a flesh wound, however his shoulder was turning blue and purple.

"That explains it." Davos nodded.

"Explains what?" Sansa asked.

"When he was fighting Greyworm, he struggled to lift Longclaw. Did a lot of the damage with his shield." Davos explained.

Maester Wolkan felt the should and smiled. "It's only dislocated. It can easily be fixed. He'll be sore for a couple of days, but he's not seriously hurt." he said.

"So why is he unconscious?" Arya asked.

"He's not seriously hurt, but I suspect he's in a great deal of pain. The body shuts out the pain long enough and then the person often passes out as they begin to feel it. Especially when they've continued to use the injured body part." he told her. "Plus he has lost some blood."

"I've had that." Arya nodded.

"What about his head?" Sansa asked.

"It might knock some sense into him." Tormund muttered.

"Nothing to worry about. Just a scratch." Maester Wolkan smiled. "I'll leave you some bandages, alcohol, a poultice and some milk of the poppy for when he comes round. When he's awake I can put his shoulder back into place." he added. "Now I will go back to the great hall and tend to some other patients who are in desperate need for my help otherwise they might die." and with that he left them alone.

Sansa was about to say something when there was a knock at the door and Tyrion poked his head through. "Can I speak with Arya a moment." he said as Arya nodded and went outside to speak to Tyrion. Sansa set to work, cleaning the wound on Jon's side. First she used water to clean it and then the alcohol to help prevent infection. Sansa then carefully stitched the wound back together before applying the poultice and wrapping a bandage around him to keep the wound clean. Next she cleaned the cut on his head, which turned out to be a tiny scratch which looked far worse than it did after she had cleaned it. The wound was so small, no stitches were required.

Jon coughed and opened his eyes. "Sansa." he coughed, his voice weak and throaty.

"You're going to be alright." Sansa smiled. "Nothing serious. A few scratches and bruises, you should be up and about in no time.

"Arya?" he asked.

"Is outside with Tyrion." she told him. "She was fretting over you. And she's fine." Sansa turned to Davos. "Bring Maester Wolkan so we can sort out his shoulder." she whispered.

"What was that?" Jon croaked, trying to sit up.

"No. your shoulder needs to be fixed, Maester Wolkan says it is dislocated. Don't worry, he can easily fix it." Sansa told him as Ser Davos left the room to get the Maester.

"Did everyone make it?" Jon asked as Arya walked in.

"Pod is badly injured." Arya told him. "He won't see the morrow." she sighed looking towards Sansa, beckoning her over to the corner of the room.

"What is it?" Sansa asked in a low voice.

"The books we've been reading have told us how to hatch the eggs. We need a sacrifice in fire." Arya explained. "Tyrion has told Pod he is going to die and asked him if he wants to become a dragon. We can make him sleep so he can't feel the fire, sacrificing him in the fire is part of the magic. It is better we do this to those who are dying than to sacrifice the living. But we will need Jon to help." she looked over to Jon. "He needs to command Drogon to burn the body while the eggs are in the fire. There are some Unsullied who are not quite dead and we could use them too. The more bodies we sacrifice the better the magic."

Sansa looked at her sister horrified. "What?" she asked.

"We will have to burn the dead bodies anyway, it won't make any difference as long as they don't feel it. If we have dragons, we won't have to worry about Bran. Any children you and Jon have will be able to become dragon riders. Jon should be King, you know it, I know that, even Tormund knows it. And probably that man over there knows it." she pointed to the man who Sansa didn't know. "To take back the iron throne, we need something powerful to take down Bran, or whoever is in his body." Arya pleaded.

"Ask Jon." Sansa shook her head. "It is not my decision to make. Although I doubt the northern houses will agree with this." she said.

"If they know it is to protect their own interests, they will wholeheartedly support it." Arya shrugged as Maester Wolkan walked into the room and sat with Jon, quietly explaining what he was going to do.

He helped Jon sit up and swing his legs off the side of the bed. What can I do to help?" Sansa asked.

"You can leave the room." Jon told her. "I don't want you to see this."

"I'm not leaving this room!" Sansa told him.

"I'm not asking." Jon stared at her.

"No!" Sansa argued back.

"I'll tell you what." Arya interrupted. "Jon, if you promise me you'll do me a favour after this, I'll get her out of the room." she said.

"Arya!" Sansa glared at her sister, knowing what she was up to.

"Done!" Jon agreed.

"No!" Sansa shook her head, but she was given no choice when Arya grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room. It turned out Arya was physically a lot stronger than her and resisting her would be difficult. Ser Davos stayed behind to help Maester Wolkan, whilst Tormund and the strange man with blonde hair and blue eyes left the room with Sansa and Arya. "What did you do that for?" Sansa asked her sister.

"I was taking the decision out of your hands. Jon trusts me not to make him promise to do anything stupid." she shrugged.

"It's blackmail." Sansa spat.

"I know, he's so gullible." Arya sighed sarcastically.

"Why are you finding this funny?" Sansa folded her arms.

"Because I know what Maester Wolkan is going to do, and Jon won't want you to see it. I've had it done to me and it hurts. Most of the pain goes away almost straight away." she shrugged. "He'll be riding Drogon within the hour." Arya smiled. "But he will scream." she nodded, putting her hand to her ear, as if anticipating the sound coming from the room.

Arya wasn't wrong, less than a minute later came the blood curdling scream from Jon. Sansa fought her sister to try to get into her room, but Arya, Tormund and the strange man stopped her, as tears began to fall from her eyes. Moments later, the door opened and Maester Wolkan appeared.

"He's as good as new." he smiled. "I'll leave him in your capable hands." he added as he started to leave.

"Maester Wolkan." Arya called out as she sidled up to the Maester. "I need to talk to you." she said as Sansa returned to her chambers to see Jon sat up, smiling with his arm in a sling.

"See, I'm all better." he grinned as Sansa flung her arms around him, making him flinch, so she quickly pulled away. "Almost, I'm still a bit sore. Maester Wolkan wanted me to have some milk of the poppy, but I'm not touching that stuff, it addles the mind." he shook his head.

"You don't need that to addle your mind." Sansa snapped.

"What did I do?" Jon asked.

"You just agreed to something which unless you were desperate, I'm not sure you would have done, all because of your pride. You didn't want me to see you in pain. I'm tougher than that." she folded her arms angrily.

Jon looked around uncomfortably. "Arya would never force me to do anything I wouldn't agree with." he said, trying to shrug, but flinching with pain. He looked to the men in the room who were all as clueless as Jon about what Arya's intentions were.

"She wants you to help her hatch the dragon eggs." Sansa told him.

Jon looked confused. "I already want to hatch them, why is that a problem?" he asked.

"Has Arya told you what needs to be done?" Sansa frowned and Jon shook his head. "It is some kind of fire and blood magic. Human sacrifice. Burning people alive."

Jon looked horrified. "I'd never do that, unless it was in battle. Why would she want me to do that? and who did she have in mind?" he asked. "I killed Greyworm."

"Pod." tears sprung to Sansa eyes. "He won't last the night. He's agreed to it. They're going to give him enough milk of the poppy so he doesn't feel it." she explained.

"Oh." Jon said sadly. "Anyone else?" he asked.

"Only the people who are going to die like Pod." she replied. "Arya is talking to Maester Wolkan about it now. Although I doubt she is explaining the real reason why. I wonder what she's telling him." she frowned.

"R'hllor." Davos suggested. "According to their religion, fire is the purest death. If they burn they will ascend to the Hall of Light, to sit beside their Lord." he told her. "It's not a far stretch, I mean she did use the red priestesses. Any Unsullied who followed Daenerys and ask for that death would be believed by the Maester." he added.

Jon nodded. "What does she want me to do?" Jon asked.

"I think she wants you and Drogon to burn them." Sansa cast her eyes down. "But it must be done tonight, before they die."

Jon stood up. "Sansa, help me with my tunic. Tormund, Davos, Strygga, go find Arya, Maester Wolkan and Tyrion. Tell them to prepare those who are to die. A funeral pyre must be built, any men who are fully able bodied, must help build it. We don't have much time." an excitement had crept into his voice which shocked Sansa.

Davos, Tormund and the man called Strygga left them alone. "You don't seem angry or concerned." she frowned.

"If we are to defend the north, we need dragons. If we don't, Bran will get dragons and attack us first, that is if he hasn't already. These men are already dead. We are just going to bring an end to their suffering. Their deaths will bring new lives and they won't die for nothing." he said. "We would need to burn the bodies, just in case the whitewalkers ever come back. Everyone wins, except Bran." Jon added.

Sansa nodded her head. The idea of burning living people turned her stomach, but Jon was a Targaryen, and she knew since he bonded with Drogon, he felt an affinity with fire. As much as it unsettled her, she knew Jon and Arya were right, they needed the dragons, although Sansa wasn't sure who on earth was going to ride the damned things. So she decided her only option was to help. She pulled Jon's tunic over his head, where he slid his left arm through the sleeve while the other hung loose and tucked it into his breeches. Sansa then helped him into his gambeson, although he had to wear one sleeve over his shoulder, making him look like he had an arm missing.

"let's go to see Drogon, I'm sure he'll be desperate to help." Jon smiled as they set off for the crypts.

By the time they'd reached the courtyard, it was empty. As they walked past the south gate, she could see piles of dead bodies stacked up, waiting to be burned by Drogon. They hadn't reached the crypts before Maester Wolkan caught up with them.

"Your Graces." he said breathlessly. "The followers of R'hllor are being taken to a pyre just beyond the south gate. I will make sure they feel nothing." he said as if he were disgusted with himself.

"It is their religion and we must honour it, whether we agree with it or not." Jon told him. "It is the right thing to do."

"But Ser Podrick. I don't understand why he would want it. He was a follower of the Seven." he frowned.

"When he found out what the Red Woman did for me, he changed religion, although he did not express his beliefs to many. Lord Tyrion was one of the few." Sansa lied.

"Ah..." Maester Wolkan nodded. "That is most understandable. It is a good job Lord Tyrion is with him in his last hours to convey those wishes."

"It truly is." Sansa smiled through gritted teeth. "I am going to help Jon with Drogon." she added as they rushed towards the crypts as fast as Jon could go with his injuries.

When they got their, they found Drogon pacing as if he were eager for something. He made a crying sound as he sniffed Jon's wounds.

"I'm alright. No need to fret." Jon petted him on the neck. "Shall we make some dragon babies?" he asked as Drogon bowed his wing down to let Jon climb up it instead of using the ladder. "Thank you." he added, getting into the seat. "Sansa, you take the eggs to the pyre and put them into the hands of those who are being sacrificed." he told her as Drogon got up to leave, revealing seven eggs.

"Jon, I thought there were only four eggs in total." she frowned.

"There are, why?" Jon asked.

"Well now there are seven." she replied looking at Drogon curiously who seemed to have a smug look on his, or was it her face. "Are we sure Drogon is male?" Sansa asked.

"I think we might need to check with Tyrion, he's the dragon expert. However I think there were more eggs down in the other pool. Drogon might have got them out him or herself." Jon frowned at the dragon. "Can Sansa take them?" he asked Drogon who turned his back towards Sansa and walked towards the exit. "I think that is a yes." Jon called out towards Sansa after he and Drogon made their way down the passage towards Drogon's exit.

Sansa picked up the eggs and placed them in a sack they had brought with them. They were surprisingly light she thought as she looked at their beauty. The silver and blue one Howland Reed had given them was the most beautiful in her eyes, she loved how the silver and blue shimmered. The one Arya seemed obsessed with looked quite dull, she couldn't understand her sister's fascination with it. She'd heard tell of Arya coming to see it and hold it, while Drogon let her. A feat which seemed even more shocking. Sansa left the cavern and the crypts, and made her way towards the southern gate. Outside their were two funeral pyres. One was of dead bodies, the other contained the men who were about to be sacrificed. Sansa spotted Tyrion and made her way over to him.

"Are those the eggs?" Tyrion frowned.

Sansa nodded. "They've multiplied. Either Drogon is female or he has found the eggs from the other pool." she said.

"Probably from the other pool." Tyrion replied. "He would have wanted to fertilise them. He probably knew what we were planning and dug the rest out himself."

"How would he know?" Sansa frowned.

"He has a connection with Jon. If Jon wants something, then so does Drogon." Tyrion peered into the bag. "Gracious, seven eggs. Lucky we have more than seven dying men to choose from."

"Why do we need to do this?" Sansa asked as Arya joined them.

"Only death can pay for life." Arya replied, before Tyrion got a chance to speak. "That is what the faceless men say."

"Fire magic, blood magic." Tyrion shrugged. "All the same. For dragons it is fire and blood." he handed out two eggs to Sansa and two to Arya. "Place each one in the arms of a man, check that their hearts still beat. Fold the arms over the egg. Then we wait for Jon to set them alight." he said.

Sansa, Arya and Tyrion got to work, checking the men were still alive then placing an egg on their chest and enveloping the egg in their arms. At Arya's insistence, she wanted Pod to have the egg she had taken a fancy to, which none had a problem with. The screech of Drogon announced the arrival of Jon, who landed with a thud and climbed down Drogon's wing with a very focussed look on his face. The men and women who had been involved in the battle, whether it be fighting or tending to the wounded, had gathered outside the castle to watch the funeral pyres and the dying being sent to R'hllor.

"Help me with this." Jon told Sansa as he struggled out of his gambeson.

"What are you doing?" Sansa frowned.

"Do you trust me?" Jon asked.

"Usually." Sansa replied slowly as he managed to wriggle free of his tunic and hand it to her.

"Well, have faith in me. I know what needs to be done. I will be fine. You don't need to worry." he smiled and kissed her on the lips. "I love you." he whispered as he cupped her cheek in his hand.

"I love you too." Sansa smiled, her response automatic because it was real. Her stomach flipped as it occurred to her that this was the first time they had uttered the words to one another.

Jon walked over towards the dead and Drogon followed. Sansa watched on as she heard the familiar cry of "Dracarys." fill the air, followed by the heat of the flames and the smell of burning flesh. Jon then walked over towards Arya and pointed to a spot. Arya nodded and followed his instructions, going to stand where he wanted her to. Jon then approached Sansa. "I need you to stand there." he told her, pointing to the other side of Drogon from her sister.

"Why?" Sansa frowned.

"Drogon wants you to." Jon replied as Drogon turned his head and looked at Sansa.

"Who am I to argue with a dragon?" Sansa smiled through gritted teeth and stood on her spot. She noticed she and Arya flanked Drogon as Jon went to stand in front of the dragon, between the dying men and the dragon.

The full horror of what was about to happen dawned on Sansa as she saw Jon lift his arms, albeit struggling with the right one which he'd freed from the sling. "Dracarys!" Jon cried as Drogon roared and fire poured from his mouth, straight into the path of Jon and the bodies.

"Jon!" Sansa screamed in terror as she saw him disappear into a ball of flames. Then a sharp stabbing pain hit her in the stomach, causing her to drop to her knees. She felt a wetness between her legs. Beside her she heard a scream, Sansa managed to glance over and Arya was also crouched down on the ground in agony.

Sansa had barely noticed Drogon had stopped breathing fire, she could still feel the heat all over her body from the human sacrifices and the funeral pyre. But that was nothing compared to how she felt inside. She hadn't known she was with child, but she already missed what could have been, this was the greater pain, the physical one she could cope with.

"Sansa!" she heard Jon's voice and looked up as he fell to his knees and held her in his arms, despite him being as naked as his nameday. "Are you..." he stopped, clearly spotting the red mark on her dress. "Did you know?" he asked.

"No." Sansa shook her head, doubling up in pain.

"Let me get Maester Wolkan." Jon insisted.

"Arya!" Sansa managed as she pointed over to her sister. "She needs help."

Jon looked around. "Strygga, help my sister." he called out. "Get Maester Wolkan, we'll take them to my chambers." he said as he threw the tunic over his head and the gambeson over his arms.

"Your shoulder." Sansa frowned as Jon picked her up in his arms and began to carry her.

"I'm all healed." he assured her. "Come on, let's get you both inside. Drogon and Tyrion can take care of the rest." he said as Sansa curled her head into the nape of his neck while he carried her back to the castle.

Just as a note, although there is no evidence to say this is what is definitely needed to hatch dragons eggs. In my mind the maesters writing lore, the histories of Westeros would hide the method of hatching dragons to prevent any from hatching again as the maesters would want to keep this a secret. This is why it was kept hidden in Maester Gerardys chambers because it was before the practice was hidden.

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Mandzipop.