Before we begin, I would like to apologize for the time it's taking. I am trying to get these out faster but I just don't have the juice I once did. If it wasn't for my beta MSquared79 then these would not be half as good. I also need to thank her for writing a scene coming up. She knows how to keep it borderline. Also I will admit that I do have regrets for starting the pairing that is going to be witnessed in this chapter. It was back when I had no beta and chopped off hands as I pleased.

Hope you all enjoy. Probably less than 10 chapters left! (including the epilogue maybe)


Sansa

The day of departure had finally come. Though the men who remained loyal to Cersei left two days prior, all who would fight for House Targaryen were nearly ready and waiting for their King to lead them south. They would be marching through snow filled roads with the Free Folk at the van to lead them given their abilities to travel through snows faster than any other men. Even so, it would be a month of traveling on such roads, and there would still be many falls of snow, whether light or heavy, that would obstruct their travel and cold temperatures that could prove too much for some to fight through.

The hills around Winterfell began to look less crowded once again with the tents taken down and men organizing into battalions to march. The Dothraki and the Free Folk, however, were still scattered about like a crowd rather than uniform like an army.

It was only hours until they would be emptying the surrounding lands, all except the garrison staying at Winterfell. There were only several thousand Northmen in the Northern army, and most of them were still young men whose only battle was at the Wall or old men who were almost at the age too weak to fight. But even so, they were Northmen, and they could defeat four times their number in winter combat. And this time, things would not be the same as when Robb marched south. This time it would dragons and lions fighting with the wolves against the evil in King's Landing.

But while the soldiers prepared for war, the smallfolk continued to repair the damage that was inflicted. Masons worked stone and mortar to rebuild the parts of the castle the wildfire destroyed. First, they had to break apart the melted stone before they could lay new ones. It would be months before the castle would be fixed, possibly a year given the number of workers that they had available.

Sansa sat next to Rickon in the Great Hall. The wall across from them was gone and braziers were brought in to give heat.

"I'm afraid we just don't have enough of the material to work." The representative of the masons informed them. He was an elderly man who was as old as Ser Rodrik before his death. "And travel to the quarry would take a fortnight just to bring back enough for a day's worth of work."

Rickon sat up straight in his seat. "Is there any other way to get the work done at a good pace?"

"More men would help, but not by much. We would still have to clear the quarry of snow and mine the stone."

The mason was right. To at least get things started, they would need material ready to be used.

Sansa spoke up. "If you could acquire a source of already refined stone for… a moon's turn, would that be long enough to prepare the quarry to be regularly mined?"

"I think so, milady."

Sansa turned to Rickon. "Isn't there a pair of abandoned towers in the Wolfswood to the north?"

"Aye. Bran and I stayed there when we fled."

"What if we had the towers salvaged? And while they are, we send some men to begin work to mine stone." There were many structures and buildings empty of residents, and standing empty in the snow was serving no one.

Rickon looked at the mason. "Would that work?"

"Aye, but we will still need the men."

"I'll send a raven to the White Harbor for help. Until then, gather the other masons and a handful of the guard for additional assistance and protection should you need it."

"Thank you, milord. We will work as hard as we can to restore the castle." The mason bowed and left.

"Any more?" Rickon asked the guard standing by the door to the hall.

"Lord Greyjoy is awaiting an audience," the guards standing by the door announced.

Sansa's mood shifted ever so slightly hearing that. There were still so many mixed feelings she and the rest of the Stark's had towards him. She nodded to Rickon, who told the guard to show him in.

Theon walked in followed by a familiar woman with a babe in her arms and a little boy trailing behind her.

"Lord Stark." Theon greeted.

"Lord Greyjoy. Or shouldn't you be called King?"

"Until Euron is dead, I am only the Lord of the Iron Islands. But I plan to have Yara become the Queen. I was hoping you could grant me a favor, or rather, grant her a favor." He gestured to the woman next to him. She stepped forward and gave a curtsey. "This is Bella and Theon"

"Your son, I remember him," Rickon replied.

Bella looked confused, as did Small Theon and Sansa. "Pardon me, milord, but I don't think my son's ever met you before."

"Um… no, we haven't." Rickon had told Sansa of his vision of Theon and Jon at Flint's Finger.

"It's complicated," Theon whispered to Bella. He stepped forward. "I'll be straightforward. If Euron manages to defeat the Iron Fleet, he'll go raiding and pillaging. I don't want them anywhere near the sea if that happens. Please grant them permission to live here."

"I can work, milord," Bella said. "I can cook and clean-"

"You and your son are welcome to stay here as long as you need," Rickon told them.

"And you are a guest here," Sansa added. "We will not require it of you to earn for your stay."

Bella curtsied to both of them. "Thank you, milady."

"Thank you, Sansa," Theon added.

Rickon looked over to the guard. "See to it that Bella and her children are given a room."

"At once, my lord." The guard escorted Bella and the children outside, but Theon lingered still.

"If that's all," Rickon said to Sansa, "I'm going to go wait for Jon." Rickon left on his own and Sansa got out of her seat and approached Theon.

"I'd been meaning to ask, but was that babe in Bella's arms your sister's?"

Theon nodded silently. "Yara told me to leave her at an orphanage anywhere but near her, but I couldn't. I'll just keep her out of sight."

"Have you named her yet?"

Theon shook his head. "It's not that I can't think of a name, I just don't feel right doing it. But I feel even worse to ask Yara to. I mean, how can I ask her to name the child created from our uncle raping her?"

In a way, Sansa could try to understand Yara's feelings. She felt terrified when she had her moonblood in King's Landing. Always being afraid of the day she could have to bear Joffrey's children. She wasn't sure if she would be able to ever show love to any child she had with golden hair like his.

She didn't want the matter to weigh on Theon longer than it was. "Will you be joining your men at Eastwatch?"

"No, Yara will be commanding them and will regroup at an island near the Fingers. Then it's just a matter of waiting for the order to attack or for Euron to attack us. Either one, I won't run away, not again." Theon looked more determined than Sansa had ever seen him be for years. Ever since he was tortured and mutilated he had looked afraid to do almost anything, no matter how little it was.

"You know, you're starting to remind me of your old self."

"I am?"

"You just seem more… whole."

Theon smiled just a little. "I was broken into a thousand pieces, and then broken again. But fighting the dead and rescuing Yara, I've been able to rebuild myself. And having Bella and our son… having them heals the scars

gave me." Theon didn't need to say who he meant for Sansa to know he was talking about Ramsay.

"I'm happy for you, truly."

Theon eyed her curiously. "Have you been able to?"

Sansa was silent for a moment, too long at that.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ask-"

"No, it's alright. I just don't have an answer. Or rather I don't think I can. I can't forget what he did to me."

"It's not about forgetting, it's about accepting." Theon shivered in place for an instant. "He tortured me beyond anything I thought possible, made me something less than a man. But I'm free of his pain now. Yara, Bella, my son, they all help me piece myself back together. Not into Theon Greyjoy, but someone else, someone better and stronger." He looked at her with a fierceness in his eyes similar to Jon. "What is dead may never die."

Hearing him say all that comforted Sansa in a way she didn't expect. It gave her hope. "I admire you for being able to Theon. But I think it will be some time until I can start on the path you did."

"Mine is different than the one you need to find. But if there is one thing I know that will help you come to a place of peace, it is to have those you care about surround you. You still have your brothers, Arya. Now you also have the Queen." Theon paused for a minute, a queer look in his eyes and his manner guarded. "And perhaps Lord Dayne?"

"Edric? Why would you say that?" His question not only caught her off-guard but also made her defensive.

When he answered, she detected something of the foster brother she remembered, the one who would tease. "I have seen how you were there for him and his children when the bodies were brought in. How close you two have become since the attack."

She shook her head vehemently. "That was...I was just...acting as the Lady of Winterfell."

He didn't seem to believe her protestations. "I've seen you when you're with him. You look free."

"Whatever you think I was feeling, I wasn't. I have spent time with him numerously but-"

"But he brings something out of you when you are. Something you used to be. Something that helps you heal." Theon paused and looked spoken out of place. "I'm not saying you need him, but I'm not saying you don't either. But at the least, you deserve something to wipe away the ugliness the world showed you."

Sansa was feeling cornered and she didn't know why. But she never got the chance to give Theon a reasonable response.

"I have to go now, Sansa. I hope to see you again soon." He left her only with a smile that was almost a smirk like the ones he used to give before everything changed.

Sansa wasn't sure what he was trying to get her to do. Was he trying to counsel her or get her to confess that he was right?

As much as she wanted him to be, she couldn't let herself be like that. She enjoyed Edric's company but going further than that would only cause problems. She couldn't make the same mistakes that Robb made. But given how things were, she wouldn't be able to find a chance. Edric was still distraught over the death of Neela. And it would be beyond dishonorable if she were to try and get closer to him than she already had.

Sansa shook the feelings and thoughts from her. It was nearly time for the armies to leave and she was going to see off Jon and Bran before they left. She went outside and found Rickon over at the Royal caravan with their brother.

Bran was being seated in a covered wagon when Sansa joined him and Rickon. He saw them and looked slightly annoyed at himself. "I can warg into almost any beast but I can still can't ride a damn horse." he admitted.

"I believe you will be able to one day.' Sansa told him. "Things just happen to be in poor timing for you to get the chance. Perhaps when the wars are over, you can finally focus on something else than having visions."

"I-I don't just focus on the visions now. I'm getting better at closing my eyes to them for other things."

"Whatever it is, I'm glad your back to being yourself again. I missed you."

"Me too." Bran smiled at her.

Appearing from behind the cart was Meera Reed. "Wagon's all ready to go, are you?"

"Yes, just waiting for Jon to lead the way now."

"You're going with them?" Sansa asked Meera.

"Just to the Neck. Then I need to go home to give my father a proper burial."

The ravens began to caw out and flutter in their cages on the sled behind the wagon. These were not of the flock Bran would control but the ravens that were to be used by the lords and ladies to send out to the holdfasts of their lands. There were already some ravens sent out by many ordering more men to be mustered and sent to their castles to defend against more treachery or schemes by Cersei.

"But I'll be sending a host of men to garrison Moat Cailin." Meera told them. "The North will not be taken again."

"Thank you for all your efforts, Meera," Sansa told her. "I wish you luck in your travels, to both of you."

"We'll be alright," Bran assured her, "The road is clear of danger right now and we'll have an escort of thousands of men."

"It doesn't hurt to have dragons either." Rickon japed.

"No, it does not," Bran agreed, smiling as he spoke. It warmed everyone to see him like that again. "Well, Jon is almost outside, so I suppose this is farewell for us."

"For now, brother," Rickon said.

"Yes," said Sansa. "But when you get to King's Landing, make sure Cersei knows that Winter has come for her."

Bran nodded before Sansa and Rickon left him in his wagon to go and wait with Daenerys and her children to see their brothers off.

Jon appeared from the castle dressed in his cloak and a coat of leather with a scale texture and red trimmings. He was embracing more of his Targaryen heritage. On his head was the crown he was gifted on his wedding night. Following vigilantly behind was Ghost, fully healed and stronger than ever, along with Ser Jorah and Ser Will. Additionally to the Kingsguard was Lonnel Fenn who was knighted and offered a white cloak for his bravery and skill for defending Daenerys. Unlike his new brethren, however, he carried no sword. Only a pair of axes at his sides and a castle forged three-pronged spear.

Besides them in the King's Company, Tyrion and Missandei were following behind. Tyrion would be vital to the negotiations if they were to happen and Missandei would be needed to both act as a counselor and translator for the King. She had knowledge of many of the sellsword companies and met their captains and commanders when she was a slave.

Jon approached his family to say his goodbyes before he was to lead the armies south. First, he went to Daenerys who was holding both of their children in their arms.

"I promise I'll come back this time, alive."

"I know you will," Daenerys replied. "But there's something else I want you to promise me. Make sure you show Cersei she has no hope to keep the throne. Let her know that winter has come for her with fire and blood."

Jon nodded and gave her a deep kiss and then two lighter ones to each of his sons. "I'll see you two soon." He stepped to Sansa and Rickon. "The next time we see each other, things will finally start to change. I promise."

Sansa and Rickon both hugged Jon tightly and he, them. Even with the superior force, Sansa couldn't help but worry that something bad would happen, if Jon would be the same when they did see him again.

Tyrion approached Sansa and bowed to her. "My lady, despite the events, I thank you and your House for their hospitality and honor you have shown. I hope that perhaps one day I will be able to repay it in kind when we're both not surrounded by schemers and tyrants."

"You have our gratitude, my lord. And consider this repayment for your kindness and protection in King's Landing."

Tyrion smiled at her warmly and stepped over to Daenerys to say his parting words before joining Missandei to a warm carriage while the others mounted horses.

Jon left with Ghost and mounted atop his horse. He gave one last look to them all before spurring his horse through the gates. He was followed by his Kingsguard and men behind carrying Targaryen and Stark Banners. Moments after, the ground began to shake and thousands of hooves outside the walls sounded like thunder as they followed after the King to war.

After the sounds and the vibrations died, the dragons screeched out. Their wings appeared over the walls before their bodies followed and they took to the skies to follow after the armies. But the number of dragons leaving was strange. Rhaegal and Lyarras were the only two flying.

"Where's Drogon?" Sansa asked.

Daenerys just as confused. "Would you hold the babies please?" She handed Matthias to Sansa and Aemon to Rickon before she hastily walked out through the gate.

Sansa and Rickon walked onto the battlements to see what was happening.

Daenerys approached the great black and red dragon with no hesitation. "Drogon!" she called. The dragon was curled up, resting in the snow.

"What do you think's wrong?" Rickon asked.

"I don't know," Sansa replied. "Maybe the wound on his leg hurts too much."

Daenerys continued calling her dragon, but he would not take flight. He even snuffed at her when she grew angry. Eventually, she gave up and returned inside the castle and rejoined Rickon and Sansa.

"What's wrong with him?" Sansa asked.

"He doesn't want to leave. A grown dragon is acting like a stubborn child." Daenerys took Aemon from Rickon. "But I do sense from him that there is more to it than that, I just can't figure out what." Dragons were strange creatures indeed, as strange as direwolves.

Matthias began to fuss and cry in Sansa's arms so she began to rock him back and forth.

"He's probably hungry, they both are. Would you bring him to my room?"

"Yes, of course. Rickon, you should get back to your practice."

"Alright Sansa. I'll see you at supper." Rickon left to train his swordsmanship while Sansa and Daenerys went back inside the castle.

Matthias was the first to feed from his mother. While he did, Sansa rocked Aemon in her arms to settle his fussing down. His eyes were starting to darken ever so slightly from the baby blue color to the beginnings of green. They would probably keep changing to match Jon's eyes just like Matthias's were starting to show traces of violet, like his mother's.

Aemon grabbed ahold of Sansa's finger and squeezed it softly. Him being in her arms made her feel calm in a way she hadn't been for a long time. She also felt a little bit of envy in her, but she didn't want to accept that she did.

"He has a strong grip," Sansa commented.

"They both do. They'll be as strong as Jon when they grow up." Daenerys smiled down at Matthias as he coughed lightly at her breast.

A memory made Sansa smile, and Daenerys caught her look. "Jon was strong when he was young, even though he was smaller than most boys his age. And when he was sparring, he'd regularly beat Robb."

"Did he? Somehow, I am not surprised." Now, it was Sansa who gave the look and her good-sister who supplied the answer. "When we had our first private conversation, Jon made mention of disliking something he was best at. He was referring to his skills with the sword."

"Before we retook Winterfell, Jon and I met face to face with Ramsey Snow," Sansa began, not dignifying that monster with his legitimized name, gifted to him by another bastard. "He had heard of Jon's abilities with a sword. Even if he was modest about them."

Dany seemed to agree. "His modesty did stand out to me. When he was defying my rights as queen, he never phrased it as anything personal to him, but to the North as a whole."

"Being raised a bastard taught him that. He never wanted to stand out, never wanted anything that would draw the attention of my mother."

"Jon has never talked about his childhood much," Daenerys said. "But I can imagine it was hard for him to have been an outcast."

"My mother was cold to almost all the time, and so was I. He was always sulking when he was alone until it turned into brooding. But whenever he was with Robb and Arya he was happy. Robb was the only one of us who could coax a smile out of him. And Arya, they had a connection almost from the moment she was born. He was a good brother to us all, even if my mother never chose to see it."

There was a moment of silence until the Queen sought more information. "When did you learn about his death at Castle Black?" Daenerys asked. Her voice had hints of being uncomfortable asking the question.

"Shortly after I arrived. He told me about the dragons and then the mutiny, but I never the saw the scars until he was turned into… one of those things." The memory of seeing Jon with eyes like ice and screeching inhumane noises made her shudder.

"I never saw his scars until we both imprisoned on Pyke together. He could have shown them to me when we first met and it would have outweighed everything I said to him, all the things I went through to get to where I am. But he didn't."

"I think he aspired to be everything my mother said he was not. He's the most like our father than the rest of us."

"It's ironic," Daenerys said. "Thinking on it now and understanding just what my father was, the same could be said of Viserys." He wasn't the best of people but there was a time when he was a good person. Then men promising him the throne poisoned his mind and made him arrogant, idiotic and finally cruel to point that it pleasured him." Daenerys finished feeding Aemon and set him down in his crib. "And then he threatened to cut out my child from my stomach and leave it with my first husband. That was the point I couldn't see him as my family anymore. He was killed with liquid gold poured onto his head and I did nothing to stop it."

Sansa thought she would be shocked to hear such a thing, but she wasn't. Surprised maybe, but she had seen enough death and pain in her life to expect such things to have happened.

"But do you what frightened me the most? I almost reveled in watching him die like my father did when he burned people alive. I didn't know the truth about him then but now… it makes me think that I'm more like him than I thought."

"You're one of the farthest people from your father that I can possibly imagine, Dany. The closest person is Cersei and you're nothing like her. That may have been the way you were, but it's not who you are now. I don't believe that you will become that type of person. And I know that Jon will not let that happen either."

"A person can change more than think, given enough time. When I was a child I never imagined to be the Queen I am now. In fact, I don't remember what it was I saw myself to be. But certainly not this."

"I imagined that I would be a loving Queen to Joffrey and have his many children. Now being a queen is the last thing I want. Everything I wanted as a little girl was dreams of things that were just stupid delusions in a world that doesn't exist."

"Our dreams are only delusions to us if we chose them to be. I didn't let that kind of thinking stop me from rising into a queen, to fight for my homeland and my family." Daenerys took hold of Sansa's hand, comforting her. "And you shouldn't let it stop you."

After the babes had fed, they were fast asleep in their cribs. Each of them slept alone, but Daenerys had the two dragon eggs placed in their cribs. Aemon had the red and orange one and Matthias had the ash grey egg. They babes looked at peace with their eggs.

But the peace was broken by the sound of crying. It wasn't the babes, but a little girl. The sound was coming from the hallway.

Out of instinct, Sansa left her seat to investigate. She followed the noise to its source and found little Ashara sitting alone in the hallway, sobbing in her arms.

Sansa knelt down and placed her hand on Ashara's back. "Ashara?"

Ashara didn't respond, she only kept on crying.

It broke Sansa's heart to watch her like this, so she took the little girl into her arms and carried her back to Daenerys's room.

"Is everything alright?" Daenerys asked when Sansa returned.

Sansa merely shook her head at her. She sat back down and started to gently rock and shush Ashara. "It's going to be alright."

"P-papa…" Ashara squeaked through her tears. "He d-doesn't like me anymore."

This shocked both Sansa and Daenerys.

"Why would you say that?" Sansa asked.

"He sh-shouted at me when I went to see him." Ashara's grip on Sansa tightened. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no you did nothing wrong. In fact, he's the one who did something wrong." Sansa couldn't believe what she just heard. It didn't matter that Edric lost his wife. Why for any reason at all would Edric behave in such a way to his own daughter? "Dany, will you watch her please."

"Of course," Daenerys said with a warm smile.

"Where're you going?" Ashara asked. She was finally starting to calm down from her tears.

"I'm going to go see your papa."

"Are you going to hurt him?"

"No, I'm going to make him apologize."

Ashara hopped out of Sansa's arms freely and was wooed by Daenerys to sit with her on the bed. The two of them began talking when Sansa left them, feeling glad that Ashara had stopped crying but also furious at who she was about to go see.

When Sansa arrived at Edric's room and entered, she saw him leaning on his bedpost, barely holding himself from collapsing to the floor. There was a wineskin spilling there and given that the spill was small determined how much was consumed.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sansa demanded.

"I need- urp… to get ready for war. I need to ride out." Edric tried to stand independently but slipped and fell to his knees. He screamed out and grasped at his bandages.

The noise was noticed by a guard nearby and he rushed into the room with his sword half drawn. "Is everything alright?"

Sansa turned back to the guard. "Send for Maester Wolkan and some water."

"Yes, milady."

Sansa removed her cloak and set it aside on a chair before helping Edric back into bed. He was still drunk and quite resistful of her, but even then she forced him to lay down.

"Is there any wine left in the pouch?" he asked, annoying her greatly. Not once since she entered had he inquired about Ashara. But she did pick up the wineskin to see if there was. She felt the weight of what remained and dumped it out with the rest of the spilled wine.

"Not anymore."

It didn't take long for the guard to return with the maester. He removed Edric's bandages (which were now starting to be stained in Edric's blood) to examine the damage done while a servant accompanying him brought water for Edric and cleaned the wine from the floor.

"You'll be alright. Your wounds are still healing, the rash movements let some blood slip between the sewings. It happens from time to time. Make sure that you make gentle movements from now on, but stay in bed and make sure you rest easy for about a day. I can give you Milk of the Poppy for the pain."

Edric never made eye contact or looked at the maester. His eyes were stuck on the window to his room as he shook his head.

"I don't want the damn Milk of the Poppy."

"I thought not." Maester Wolkan replied with a roll of his eyes. Every maester probably heard that refusal more times than there were Houses in Westeros. He wrapped Edric in some clean cloths and excused himself along with his the servant.

Sansa remained though. She still needed to address his unacceptable behavior to his own daughter. "Why would you shout at Ashara of all times?"

"You're still here?" Edric's words were slurred as he lay in his bed. "Could you at least bring me a drink?"

"There's a goblet of water next to you."

"Fuck water. I want wine." Edric growled. He was being more stubborn Arya used to be as a child. Though she knew the rage that came with the murder of family. She wanted to starve herself to death after hearing of the Red Wedding. Joffrey had done everything he could to remind her of it before his death. Tyrion and the Tyrells were the only ones who tried to give her comfort. But even still, he didn't excuse his behavior.

Sansa pulled her chair next to Edric's bed and sat down. "If you stop being an arse while I talk, I'll consider giving you something besides water." He did not respond, so she kept on speaking. "You may have lost your wife, but your children lost their mother. They lost one of the only people they truly know that they love and they have no idea what to do. They need you. Leaving them alone will only make it worse."

Edric half laughed at her. "And what would you kn-" he ended that phrase just before finishing it. He seemed to sober of a moment. "Of course you would know. Your father was executed before your eyes and your mother and brother butchered with no one but a dwarf's shoulder to cry on."

"I cried. I admit that I did but I had no one to cry with. I chose not to have anyone because I hated everyone around me. I would lay in bed imagining those I lost and how they died. I was alone and scared. But your children won't have to be. They need their father."

Edric scoffed and finally turned to look at her. "I'm not their father. I'm just the same stupid boy who chose to fight for glory instead of taking my place where I was meant to be." His annoyed attitude began to turn into sorrow. He showed it on his face but even more so in his eyes. "What kind of father leaves his wife alone when she needs him most? I failed as a husband."

"But you haven't as a father. You can still show them that this isn't the end of their world."

"But it is, isn't it?" Edric asked, his voice laced with sarcasm. Mayhaps not at the hands of the Night King, but there is still a war we may not survive. And if we do, what do we have left?" He sat himself up slowly, being face to face with her. "My home is gone, burned into rubble. My people slaughtered while I was away."

Sansa didn't notice her hand taking his. "You have your children. And you have your friends and the love they have for you. That's more than most get. More than I got when I thought I lost everything." Edric looked upon her silently. The violet in his eyes seemed to glow in the light of the room as the day faded. But the more Sansa looked at him, she kept realizing that he was in just as much pain as his children. "It's not the end of your world. It doesn't have to be unless you let it."

Sansa never realized when it happened. Edric had leaned himself to her and began kissing her. But what surprised her more than the spontaneousness of it was that she wasn't fighting back from it. She let it happen.

Edric finally realized what he was doing and pulled away. "I'm sorry, I… I shouldn't have-"

Sansa didn't let him finish. She felt a great desire for more of what he gave her and he didn't resist. In fact, for their next time, Edric deepened their kiss together and pulled her closer to him. It was like he needed this from her.

It caught her off-guard for a moment, the movements he made. Perhaps, in the end, that was the first step to weaken her defenses. But it was the little thing, the gallant knight kissing the hand of the fair maiden like in the songs, that allowed her to allow him to continue.

He had a look in his eyes she could vaguely remember seeing in her own mother's eyes when she would look at her father. How Ned Stark would take Catelyn Stark's hand and kiss it gently. She had thought, at one time, that Joffrey would look at her that way, that he'd take her in his arms and carry her off to their chambers. But now, seeing Edric look at her, she wanted from him what her father gave her mother.

She did not know how it happened, but for some reason, their lips remained connected and parted, their tongues in a dance together. Then, slowly he moved down her neck, gently caressing the length of it, while his hands moved to her back, working at the ties at the back of her dress. There was a moment of fear that seized her, remembering Ramsey in the same situation. But he was dead, and this man, this man with her now…

She shocked herself when her own fingers worked the laces of his trousers. She could feel him here, anticipating what was to come. By the gods, she wanted it too, if for nothing else than to banish the ghosts that still haunted her within the walls of Winterfell. She knew a proper lady should not want this, but she didn't want to be a proper lady now. Edric was right-this could be the end of the world. They could all be killed in the war to come against Cersei. And here was a man, a broken man, who needed something to ease his wounds. If she could offer him any comfort, even if it was merely with her body, she would.

It dissolved into the shedding of clothes, skin on skin. She knew she should fear these actions, but as to why, she could not remember. Their bodies eventually made their way to lie in the bed as they eased down. In the miasma of their state of minds, somehow, they were gentle with Edric's wounds. But the passion grew fiercer until they seemed to both fall over the edge together.

And then Sansa remembered nothing else.

The chill of a light breeze came in through the window onto Sansa's face. She shivered lightly as she slowly woke up. The cold never bothered her much, however, the breeze making it sudden did. Despite that though, she felt warm inside herself, warmer than she had been for a long time.

She shifted in the bed, groaning as she felt the furs warm her body and wanted to return to the bliss of sleep. She was still halfway there, but she started to become aware that she wasn't in her nightgown. She was completely naked. What shot wide awake when she felt another naked body in the bed and saw Edric asleep next to her.

She remembered their talk last night and what it led into. Thinking on it now, she was in absolute shock of what they had done. She didn't know how to react. The only thing she felt right now was the regret of all things. She shouldn't have kissed him and definitely should not have slept with him. At first, she wanted to blame it on the wine, but Edric was the only one who drank it last night. She herself became drunk in merely the pleasure and lost herself in him.

Careful not to wake Edric up, Sansa slipped out his bed and dressed with all haste. She froze when Edric stirred around but was relieved when it was nothing more. She couldn't confront him about this yet. She felt like an idiot right now who just took advantage of the moment last night.

Lazily clothed, she rushed out of the room but cautiously so that no one took notice of her. She had to retreat to her room and she most definitely needed a bath. Her hair was oily and her skin smelled of sweat and she felt a dry sticky sensation between her legs as she walked.

She made it to her room thankfully unnoticed and immediately began to undress from her gown and into a night robe to not arouse curiousness or suspicion when her servants were to arrive for their duties. She was lucky to wake up this early. The light of dawn was beginning to reveal itself and soon the people would be too.

Sansa got in her bed and tried to relax and collect her thoughts. But the only ones running through her head were about what an idiot she was. Indulging herself like that was beyond foolish. A night of pleasure could create years of problems. Her immediate concern was ow would Edric see this when he would sober up.

She began to remember what happened in the night, what they did and how much she enjoyed it. She couldn't deny that she did but she could accept that she went through with it.

Before Sansa realized how much time had gone, her door was knocked on before her handmaid walked in. "Good morning, my lady." She began to gather Sansa's used clothes as Sansa started to pretend to just wake. "Shall I have a bath drawn for you?"

"Yes. Please do, quickly."

Warm waters were brought and set and fresh clothes laid out. The handmaiden took the sheets off the bed to washed as Sansa stripped down and stepped into the water. As she wiped herself clean, she couldn't help but wish that she could wipe the guilt she was feeling. But the more she thought about it, it wasn't guilt she was feeling, nor regret. She was starting to feel nothing in that sense and it was worrying her.

She was dressed by sunrise and already breaking her fast with Rickon and Daenerys. She didn't speak to them which was making things strange as an awkward silence dragged on longer than it should have.

Rickon finally cleared his throat and brought the attention to something at least. "We received a raven from White Harbor. They have an overabundance of fish and will be bringing most of their catch to help with the lost food."

"That's wonderful news." Daenerys said. "Has there been any word from the other keeps or holdfasts?"

"Aye, but only a couple responses and they are rather far from the North. Lannisport has some food they are willing to sell. They're asking for more than I think they should, but what choices do we have really?"

"Not many, I'm afraid. Perhaps we can acquire harvest from the Free Cities or the Bay of Dragons. What do you think Sansa?"

Sansa wasn't paying attention. In fact, she hadn't touched her plate. Her head was still caught up in what to do and what would happen.

"Sansa?" Daenerys placed a hand on her shoulder which finally snapped her out of it.

"What? Forgive me, I wasn't listening. I… have a lot on my mind right now."

"Like what?" Rickon asked. "And where were you at supper last night?"

"It doesn't concern you." Sansa's kept her gaze away from Rickon but felt a different pair of eyes looking at her. She lifted her head back up for a quick glance who and saw it was Daenerys. Her eyes felt piercing and they could see past the mask that Sansa was trying to wear.

"Sansa," Daenerys said calmly, "how long did you spend at that

you went to take care of last night?" With that question, it was obvious that she knew.

Before Sansa could answer, the castle was shaken by a loud roar of Drogon from outside. Everyone's attention was drawn to the windows looking over the courtyard. People were scurrying around, many running and screaming at the roar of the dragon.

Drogon swooped down from the sky, nearly crashing into the castle. He began to circle around and started to fly in place and roar out. But the way he was acting was like he was angry, like he was yelling rage instead of breathing fire.

"What is he doing!?" Rickon exclaimed.

Daenerys had already left the Great Hall to go outside to confront her dragon. She walked into the center of the now empty courtyard and started shouting at her dragon, giving him commands in High Valyrian.

Drogon perched himself on the walls that were still intact and lowered his head to his mother before letting out another great roar. But Daenerys held her ground and didn't so much as even flinch. After that, the dragon merely gave what could be considered a scoff and took back into the skies. He wasn't leaving, but he wasn't keeping near the castle any longer which was good.

"Seven Hells," Rickon let the words fall out of him, "anyone who could stand their ground to that deserves to rule."

Sansa was going to agree with him, but she was at a loss for words to do so.