Few things I wanna say: this was really hard to write, and therefore one of my worst chapters. That's why it took so long, i've edited and re-edited to its max point and i'm still not satisfied with it. I don't think I ever will be.

Some of the fic warnings are from this chapter.

…Content to live this is my stay; I seek no more than may suffice;
I press to bear no haughty sway; look, what I lack my mind supplies…
Some have too much, yet still do crave; I have little and seek no more…
I fear no foe, I fawn no friend; I loathe not life, nor dread my end.

Some weigh their pleasure by their lust, their wisdom by their rage of will;
Their treasure is their only trust; a cloakèd craft their store of skill…
My wealth is health and perfect ease; my conscience clear my chief defence;
I neither seek by bribes to please, nor by deceit to breed offence:
Thus do I live; thus will I die; would all did so well as I!

from My Mind to Me a Kingdom Is by Sir Edward Dyer

Sansa

§

"There is something I wish to confide in you Lady Sansa, for fear it will die with me, should our plot fail."

She wanted to tell her brave knight that she was at risk of death as well, but Littlefinger would want her alive, and that was as good as a guarantee that she would survive regardless of the outcome, so she said nothing, and only nodded.

After Brienne shared her secret, she could say nothing to it, the knowledge was as far removed from her as if from another land, but she agreed to keep it, though she was not certain what Brienne intended her to do with it.

Instead she said the only thing she could, "You are the greatest knight-"

"I am no knight," The Lady of Tarth interrupted, her voice stubborn.

She smiled, but ignored her, "That I have ever known, title or no, you will not fail. We will not fail."

Of course, she should have know she'd been wrong.

When she'd left Winterfell in the night as promised, with Lady Brienne and Podrick in tow, she kept up her charade, did not reproach his subtle touches, nor how close he would lean in when he spoke to her.

She had not reacted when they took the Kingsroad south past the Twins, nor had she responded when he informed her, "We've come to see your Uncle, not your brother's Onion Knight."

It was all a means to an end, she told herself.

Riverrun had already been informed of their arrival, thanks to Littlefinger, but she knew she'd need to find a moment to speak with her uncle alone as soon as was possible.

When they finally arrived, she had felt a little strange in the beginning, for she had never truly known him, or any of house Tully though they were kin. Littlefinger did most of the talking thankfully, but Edmure did not seem to hear, instead he looked over at her, and smiled.

Lines and creases adorned his face and he looked tired, she realized, as if he had not slept well in years; there were grey hairs already showing in his red hair. It made his wife, whom Sansa remembered was a Frey, look years younger than she likely already was. She was not entirely surprised to find that Roslin was beautiful, she had no doubt that the lecherous old Walder likely had snagged at least one lovely bride in his time.

She could not help but wonder if her brother and mother might still live if only Robb had kept his oath. Her uncle Edmure approached her then, placing both hands on each of her arms as if to take a good look at her.

He smiled before speaking, "You look so like your mother."

Then he pulled her into a tight hug, his embrace warm and welcoming. It reminded her a little of what it used to feel like, when her mother held her. She knew instantly she could trust him.

She was safe.

There had been no discussions that day, instead she was shown to her chambers where she rested, Brienne not far off. Podrick had made himself scarce, trying to find a way to her uncle without Littlefinger nor any of his spies finding out.

She spoke with her uncle the next day, Littlefinger at her side, though he did not push in her favour as she'd expected. Instead, what little he voiced was in her brother's name. Nothing was stated outright of course, everything said in undertones, but even then, it was clear Lord Edmure was loyal to Jon as he was to her, at least that is how it had seemed to her.

After, she'd expected him to make his move, try to convince her to see his way, but he did not so much as mention her brother nor their real intentions for going there. It worried her, Lord Baelish was playing his game as much as ever, and yet she could not see what it was, and he did not share it with her.

She did not have much time she knew, it would not be wise to leave Riverrun alone with Littlefinger, she needed to act and quickly. The plan was to ambush him, for Brienne to end his life.

"I cannot say i'm sorry it had to come to this."

He smiled as only he could.

"Neither am I, my love. Though I think I might actually miss Lady Brienne's faithful scowl."

She had not realized she was doomed from the start, and there was no one to blame but herself. She'd considered herself ready, and capable of handling Littlefinger, yet now that the time was upon her, she could see where she'd gone wrong.

It happened quickly; one moment it was them three only, and then she was falling, a flash of dark steel appearing where her armour ended below her waist, and though the room was not empty, she was suddenly alone.

Brienne's body lay unmoving next to her and he did not spare even a glance before he ordered the bulk of his men to ready their departure. Four remained after the rest had gone.

"We're off to the Eyrie my love, where you will marry your betrothed before something awful should happen to him," He said to her, a glint of evil in his eyes at his intimation.

"And my Uncle?" She asked, her voice numb.

"Will be informed of our departure, after we are gone of course. I'm pleased to find out he cares for you and his loyalty is true. When the time comes, surely he will support us."

She did not miss his use of us and not you, but she was not clear how he intended on taking the North. Compelled by her ignorance, she spoke.

"Do you really think the North will support you, will support me? We won the battle against the Boltons, yet it was my brother whom they rallied behind. They have no great love for me, and I doubt they will care of my abduction."

Petyr grinned, "Oh my love, you are both right and wrong. It's true, the North holds no such love for you, but your brother does. Once I tell him of my plans for you, he will come. To be sure."

She understood now, what he intended. He meant to kill Jon.

Of course, she would not let him use her to do it. Sansa had not expected to fail, but she also knew she would not leave herself to the mercy of others. Her life lay only in her own hands, and it was the one way to foil his plan, and she would need to act fast. She pulled out the small dagger Theon had given her before he'd left, the one she kept with her always. It was not big enough to kill Littlefinger, but it was sharp enough for her own throat. Hidden by her cloak, she held it in her hands and waited for her chance.

"I've not forgotten your would-be knight's squire, he's been quite the busy body since we've arrived. He was supposed to be here for this."

When he turned to one of his men, telling him to find and kill Podrick, and as two left, she moved back away from the bodies, holding the dagger at her throat, and waited for Littlefinger to notice.

When he finally did, he flashed her a grin filled with pity.

"No my love, we can't have that. Not unless you wish for many more, including your Uncle, his wife and babe, to die. "

She froze, knowing Petyr Baelish did not make idle threats. She lowered the blade from her throat an inch and he moved towards her, his two men a step behind. She felt tears swell in her eyes, and her throat go tight as they stepped over Brienne.

They were nearly upon her, when all of a sudden, her knight moved. Their eyes all on her, they did not notice as she stood, silent though blood surrounded her and still poured from the wound at her waist.

She did not know where Podrick was, but she was alone, so she did not beg nor plead for his life. There was one though I will only hurt your brother worse."

e steps over brienne. their eyes all on her they don't see Brienne get up, silent though blood surrounds her, and still pours from her. The Lady of Tarth unsheathed only her small blade and silently sliced the throat of the man closest to her. The sound of his body crashing to the ground, forced the other and Littlefinger to turn in surprise.

"For Lady Catelyn," Brienne said then. The last remaining guard unsheathed his longsword and moved towards her.

Sansa did not watch her kill him, instead she used the distraction and stepped close behind Littlefinger.

Being nearly taller than him, it was not difficult to align her blade with his throat.

"This is for my father," She whispered in his ear.

She slid the steel across the soft skin of his neck, a stream of blood gushing from its path. She stepped back from him as his hands instinctively went to his neck to prevent the flow, but it was no use and he fell to his knees, gurgles of blood pouring from his mouth.

"And for me," She added.

She stepped past him even before he fell to the ground, and rushed to Brienne's side, who was on the ground once more, Littlefinger's soldier lifeless at her feet. She knelt on the floor, cradling her head. The dead man had landed a blow of his own, red flowing from a wound at her side, and she knew her brave knight would soon leave her.

Tears slid silently down Sansa's cheeks, and Brienne only smiled as best she could and said, "I have done my duty."

The lady of Tarth winced then, her grin faltering. A sob burst from her, and Sansa knew there was no one to blame but herself.

"I'm sorry Brienne, this is all my fault-"

"We beat him, together," She interrupted, her voice soft yet insisting.

She would not argue, would not waste these last moments with her friend, so she smiled as best she could.

"It was you. You saved us all, you protected me when I thought no one could."

Her lips went up a little at that, but she said nothing, only let out a deep sigh pierced with pain, and Sansa knew there was not much time left.

"Ser Jaime," Brienne uttered then, weakly.

"Tell him I-" She faltered.

Sansa knew what she wanted to say, understood finally why the lady had shared her secret only the night before, which now felt years past. She began to nod when her knight spoke again.

"It was an honour to know him."

It was not what she wanted to say Sansa knew, but she nodded. She would tell him the truth Brienne meant.

"He is a good man, promise me you will forgive him, for what he's done for his family."

She was using the last bit of strength she had to say these words, and though she knew it would not be an easy promise to keep, she made it.

"I swear it," She answered.

It was then, that Podrick arrived, followed by her uncle, and men of Riverrun closely behind.

Seeing them alone, he rushed to them, dropping to his knees at Brienne's other side. The others remained back though she heard her uncle speak but she paid no attention.

"Pod," She said softly.

"I'm sorry I'm late," He answered morosely, sounding as if he thought if only he'd arrived sooner he might have been able to save her.

She had never been particularly close with her squire, but Sansa knew she cared for him. Brienne reached for his hand and seeing her effort he took it quickly.

"You will be a great knight someday."

His lips went up a little at that, his unshed tears finally sliding down his cheeks by the crinkling of his eyes.

"It has been an honour being your squire," He answered.

For the first time she did not argue the implication, "Tell my father-"

She stopped then, wincing in pain, her breath hitching in her throat, and Sansa felt Brienne's hand tighten around her wrist for a moment then she let go, and just like that, she was gone.

§

Unsurprisingly, with Lord Baelish dead, his men had yielded quickly. She'd had no interest in them though she heard her Uncle had locked them in the dungeon below Riverrun for the time being. The castle and its inhabitants had been sworn to secrecy as well, until she and her uncle decided what to do.

That night, after she'd washed the blood off her skin, scrubbing until even her elbows had turned pink, she dreamt she'd saved her knight. She saw the man behind her before his blade reached her back, and at her warning Brienne turned in time to stop him. She'd been the one to kill Littlefinger, with her father's steel no less.

Sansa woke at that, tears already sliding down her face as she remembered the truth. Her life was the nightmare, not her dreams.

By the time morning came, she knew what she needed to do. With Podrick at her side she met with her uncle in his solar.

"I know I have asked a lot of you uncle, but I must ask again for your help."

Without pause he replied, "Whatever you need."

"I must go to the Vale and see my cousin, and no one must know of Littlefinger's death until after I do."

He seemed to understand what this meant, and nodded.

"First though, there is somewhere else I must go, and no one but us must know. And Podrick, you will deliver a message for me."

a/n: A lot of you probably hate me, I mean I hate me (Brienne is actually one of my favourite characters if not the most), but I'm basing this series on what I think will happen, main points anyway, and her dying is one of them. Sansa taking out Littlefinger, another.

I didn't want to do it, but I had to. I am sorry and sad to see her go though. Aside from Jon, she actually reminds me the most of Eddard, and the war started with his death (a person of honour), I think it makes sense it ends the same way.

And to be honest, Lord Baelish and his story is not the focus of my series but I couldn't just ignore him, so I tried to deal with it as best I could. I'm sure the series will give him the storyline his character deserves.

Anyway thanks for reading.