*I hope everyone is having a great holiday week!

**PLEASE READ NOTES AT END OF CHAPTER!

298 AC

Catelyn Stark

Catelyn found herself in her husband's solar, together with Ser Barristan Selmy, the King, and Ned himself. The group was in the midst of discussing an entire plethora of information. Catelyn wanted to do nothing more than go to her chambers and sob into some furs. The news of her younger sister's death came to a blow to her. But her duty was to her husband at the moment, and he needed her right now.

Jon Arryn had awoken from his deepsleep in the capital. When the King initially read the letter from his foster father, he had been delighted that the man had arisen. But his mood soon soured when Lord Arryn expressed his desire to resign regardless. That had also caused her misplaced joy. She wished for Ned to remain home, especially after Bran's fall, which he had still to awake from.

But from Arryn's letter, along with the King, it seemed that the entire Realm was doubling down on making her dear Ned the Hand of the King. But this wasn't the end of it. Jon Arryn had wished that she, a woman he only met twice, to serve as one of his co-regents for his kingdom. She had never met her nephew, but overseeing his education was the least she could do for her late sister.

Catelyn had felt what it was like to lose a family member for the first time in many decades. Her husband was unfortunately quite familiar with the feeling. Which was why he became far more resistant to going south.

"Ned, I need you by my side! I'll agree to all your demands! Just…just join me! Please?" The King had exclaimed.

"I cannot Robert. One of my sons is injured, my maester fears he may not walk again. I cannot leave my home now."

They had been at this for hours. At this point, the King grunted loudly, swatted a goblet off of the table, and strode over to an open window. She thought that she'd have to speak to Ned quietly.

"Ned? Your Grace? Let us take a moment for peace. Ned, may we speak for a moment?"

The King nodded in agreement, striding out of the room, no doubt seeking out some wine, with Ser Barristan right on his heels.

"My lady?"

"Ned…let us speak about the Vale for the moment."

"Yes. Good idea. I think you should accept."

"Truly?"

"Aye. By Jon's admission, he is fully awake now, has informed the Vale lords, and will assume power once he is strong enough to make the return trip. Look at this less as a duty, and more as an extended visit."

Of course, I worry too much. "You may be right, if so, I'll join the King's party as they return to the capital and leave once we reach Riverrun."

"Good, and I shall remain here."

"Ned…"

"No!" He shouted, breaking his normally stoic character. "I have lost enough of my family Cat; I cannot bear to think what I shall do should I lose a child of mine."

She embraced him, calming him. She knew for as much as he was a cold, northern lord, he also had many nights in which he awoke in a sweat. There was many a day where he'd be distant and excuse himself for hours as he'd visit his family's crypts.

"Ned. I know. I know what you feel so, so much. However I fear for you. This decision to lockdown the castle, to refuse the King's request…I fear you are beginning to grow scared of the shadows."

Cat was unfamiliar with battle, but she was well aware of its aftermath. She had seen some of her family's household guards return from the Rebellion. Some of them were never the same. Some would stare out into the distant for hours, some would cower at the sound of loud noises, there were some who even gave up the blade and shield for the rest of their lives. She remembered how one soldier returned, he walked through the courtyard and at the sound of some youngsters sparring in the tiltyard at Riverrun, became mad with paranoia.

Her dear Ned was no different. She didn't know all of what he saw during the Rebellion, but she knew much of had to be terrible. Sometimes he didn't sleep well along with other symptoms. She didn't blame him for wanting to stay with family, but not if it was because of irrational madness.

Ned, still in embraced, looked like a cornered animal, always looking and scanning, his body tense like a stalking predator. But at her words, he sighed, and deflated. His legs trembled slightly as he practically fell into a nearby chair.

"Oh Cat…perhaps you're right. Bran was going to fall eventually, correct?"

"Yes, I fear so Ned. I knew I should've mentioned it to him lately."

"Very well. Very well. I'll let Robert know that I shall accept his offer. However, I shall not depart for at least a month."

"Ned…" She tiredly responded.

"Calm my dear wife. It is because of Sansa, not just Bran."

"Oh."

"Yes, quite right. It is high time that I also face the reality of your ideas."

That confused her. What in the name of the Mother is he talking about.

"Initially, the royal family's presence dissuaded me. But I have come to realize the realm-wide situation. Sansa is one of two eligible daughters of Lords Paramount. The Riverlands does not have one, the Vale does not, the Stormlands have Shireen in effect, but due to her greyscale she shan't find any suiters any time soon sadly. That leaves the Reach and the North."

"What are you saying Ned?"

"I am saying that I am beginning to realize that Sansa may have to marry outside of the North." He smirked at her.

Catelyn at first did not react. A smile slowly grew before she jumped into the arms of her husband. "I knew you'd realize what a waste she'd be up here!"

"Aye…but now onto who? My first thought was Willas Tyrell, he is the heir to the Reach and still unmarried as of yet."

She had an idea. It was quite outside of the box for her, she surprised herself by thinking of it. "What about the eldest son of the Prince of Dorne?"

Ned looked at her surprised.

"Oh don't look at me like that. I may be a 'fanciful southern lady', but I am no simpleton either. A marriage could lessen the hatred that Dorne has for the North."

"Perhaps. If we were to pursue a Dornish marriage though, I'd prefer if we give Sansa's hand to young Edric Dayne, the new Lord of Starfall after the death of his father."

"Why the Daynes?"

"Well, they're still Dornish so the agreement would lessen their hatred for us. Secondly, if Sansa is to marry outside of the North, it would be best received if the family still recognized the Old Gods; the Blackwoods, the Royces, the Daynes…I am sure there are others."

"Good point." She smiled up at him. "You northerners are quite defensive about your gods." She teased. "But I do not want us to disregard the Tyrells yet. They are still a good option. Through them, we might be able to get a better deal for our trade for food."

Eddard Stark

He watched as his wife continued to think. He eyes then widened when she came to the realization. Oh…I hope this isn't what I am thinking of.

"Ned! What about the Crown Prince!"

He needed to think quickly, so he became dismissive.

"Nay. That shan't happen."

Cat eyed him dangerously. "And why not? I know the King has always wanted to be related to you by blood."

"Well, that's just it my Lady. I fear Robert only had eyes for Lyanna." It felt wrong for him to use his sister in his reasoning, but he would not allow his Sansa to marry the prince. "I fear that no other person would do. And secondly, the prince will most likely marry Margaery of House Tyrell."

"But if you serve as the King's Hand, you'll be better able to gain a marriage for Sansa!"

"Perhaps…but as the Hand, I would recommend to Robert to marry the Tyrells. Politically, we have nothing to offer. The North is already one of, if not the strongest, supporters of Robert, while on the other hand, marrying into the Tyrells accomplishes three things. First, it buys the loyalty of the second-most powerful kingdom for at least two, if not three generations. Second, it will reconcile Robert with the former Targaryens main supporters. And lastly, it will prove competitive to the current power of the Lannisters."

Catelyn was obviously annoyed at the use of such political arguments to argue with her about Sansa. But even she saw how beneficial it was to allow the Tyrells to marry…especially if Sansa was to marry the heir to Highgarden too.

"Perhaps, my Lady wife, we can call upon Sansa now to discuss this with her."

"Yes, yes that is a good idea. I'll fetch her now. You give your answer to the King."

He nodded in agreement. Leaving the small room, Cat made a left out of the door, while he turned right. He thought that the best place to find Robert was the hall, no doubt already putting down a couple goblets of wine or horns of ale. Perhaps I should have the castle locked down all the time. He thought amusingly to himself. I've never had an easier time walking through the keep then now.

Reaching the hall, Robert was expectedly sitting at the high table, laughing with his Lord Commander about old stories.

"Your Grace!"

Whipping his head around to see him, Robert grinned. The frustration of the talks having already left him. One of the better qualities to Robert. He was quick to rise and anger, sure. But he was as equally quick to calm and laugh. It helped with building diplomacy no doubt.

"Ned! Join me at your table!"

"Your Grace, I have reached a decision."

Robert became somber…almost as if he were worried about what he'd say.

"Robert…I have agreed to serve as your Hand-" Before he could continue, he was cut off.

"Ah! I knew it. I knew you'd join me! Barristan, you can join Ned in his dull attitude!"

"-but, I have an additional demand."

"Oh hells, what now?"

"I shall serve as your Hand; however, I request an additional month before I depart Winterfell. With Catelyn leaving for the Vale with your party, my children will need one of their parents, at least for a short while, to settle in. I must also be here for Bran at the moment."

"Very well, that's easy enough. Perhaps Jon can serve a light schedule as acting Hand until you return."

"Thank you Robert, truly. Remember my other conditions though, if I see one Lannister man-at-arms when I reach the capital, I am turning my party around and heading north once more without a second thought."

"Yes, yes! You've been quite insistent. Come, let's relive out childhood one more time, Ser Barristan! Grab that horn and pass it to Lord Stark! We've a drinking competition to have!"

Though drinking once more with Robert reminded him of the Vale, he had to excuse himself to return to his wife and daughter after a horn and a half. He returned to the same room that the others had their previous discussion in. both Catelyn and Sansa were already present.

"Father." "My lord."

"Cat, Sansa, let us speak."

It appeared however, that Sansa wouldn't let him start.

"Father, may I speak clearly?"

"Of course child." He took a seat next to his wife.

"I know you and mother, and my brothers and sisters think me high in the air about southern customs and chivalry and lofty ideals. But may I remind you that I am as equally smart as Edwyle?" Sansa was shocking them; she had never spoken to them live this. It wasn't anger, but it was almost…sadness? Sadness as perhaps them thinking she knew nothing.

"Sansa, dear. We know you are so intelligent." Catelyn tried to embrace her to calm her.

"No! Please…just listen."

A worried Catelyn sat back down.

"Mother, father, I am not ignorant of the North. I know the history and family of every single vassal of ours. I know their words, I know their seat, I know their relationship with House Stark. I am not foolish." By her tone, Ned soon guessed her mother had not yet spoken to her about southern matches yet. But he'll allow her to vent, that's what she needed now.

"Which is what comes to my conclusion."

The next words out of her mouth made Eddard Stark freeze in his seat…and have a growing anger in his heart.

"I must marry Lord Bolton."

Both him and his wife sat in shock. It took all his will not to stand and strike his dear eldest daughter. If only she knew of Roose Bolton's other son. Cat broke the silence first.

"Absolutely not! He is many winters your senior! I will not have my daughter married to an already old man! A barbarian at that!"

"Sansa Stark; I will overlook that point this one time. But no more."

"Please! Just…just listen to me for a few moments!"

He and Cat looked at each other but Sansa started regardless.

"Marrying to any other house in the North doesn't make sense! The Umbers and the Karstarks are already loyal enough. The Manderlys too. House Ryswell and Dustin will not be made more loyal simply from my marriage."

Ned tried to keep his anger in check. "And so why the Boltons?"

"Lord Bolton recently lost his only heir. That leaves him the last of his house. I am aware of the history of our families. Please try not to take this as a lecturing tone, but the Boltons were never a threat from their host."

Now, both him and Cat were confused. "How do you mean?"

"House Bolton, though a respectable sized army, is not the reason for their danger, neither for their financial power or marriage pacts. House Bolton has been a threat to House Stark simply by their presence. They were the last kings to be absorbed and have rebelled many a time in centuries past. That is it father, it's their mere presence."

"And-"

"In addition, we have a unique position here. By marrying Lord Bolton, I shall bring them into the fold. No future Lord of the Dreadfort, raised by me most especially, will ever wish to rise against their cousins! We will bring in one of the most powerful bannermen we have, and secure its loyalty for at least three generations, especially if in the future, I can foster perhaps a child from Robb or Edwyle."

Cat moved to speak once more in opposition. Before she could however, he spoke.

"Catelyn. Please give me and Sansa a moment of peace."

His wife looked to argue but one look at his face told her he was not in the mood to discuss further. He waited until his wife left the room, closing the door behind her. Sansa sat in silence. He moved to speak but decided that he should calm himself first. Standing up, he moved over to an open window to get some fresh air.

"Sansa. Listen to me and listen well."

"Father-"

"Sansa Stark!"

Sansa recoiled at his snap. He never tried to yell at his children, but this was not a normal time.

"Sansa…listen, do not speak."

She nodded; eyes downcast.

"I would like to first apologize at snapping at you my child. I am sorry, forgive me. In my anger, I wished it were different, but you reminded me today how intelligent you truly are. Every single reason to mentioned was a good one, a thoughtful one."

Sansa looked back up, a cautionary smile coming to her face. "Thank you father." She softly said.

"But Sansa, there is something you are unaware of. In my love for you, I sought to hide you from all the ugliness in the world. I failed Robb and Edwyle some years ago, and I wish not to fail you, but it seems I must."

"What do you mean father?"

"Sansa…Roose Bolton did not have only one son. He sired a bastard named Ramsay Snow…I've heard vicious rumors."

"If so, why have not you done anything?" Sansa asked, genuinely curious.

"Because though I have the right, it would anger the Boltons, and upset a great number of other lords, if I were to unilaterally enter the Boltons territory to carry out justice based only on rumor."

"But don't the other lords find the Boltons distasteful as well?"

"Aye…but many would see it as a curb on themselves too. After all, if House Stark cares not for entering the lands of their greatest rivals…then what's to stop us from doing it to those who are closer to us."

"I hadn't thought of that." Sansa was upset, not doubt frustrated that she did not think of everything in her preparation for this.

"Nay, but then again, you made many good points that I hadn't thought of. You truly are amongst the smartest of my children." He said, not unkindly. And not pointedly at his other posterity.

They shared a moment of silence, but not because they had nothing to say. Both he and Sansa seemed to need a moment to themselves, thinking over all the points that each other made. But enough about the North, let's consider other options.

"Sansa, dear one. If you were to marry outside the North, your mother and I have narrowed our options down to Quentyn Martell, eldest son of Prince Doran Martell, Edric Dayne, the Lord of Starfall, and Willas Tyrell, the heir to Highgarden."

"Why two dornishmen?"

Once again, Sansa proved her smarts as she quickly analyzed all the options.

"Considering the Vale; Robin Arryn is far too young for you. Perhaps the eldest of Lord Royce…but the Vale faces many of the problems that you face with most of the North, we already have very good connections with the kingdom so we wouldn't gain much. The same goes for the Riverlands."

"What about the Westerlands or the Crownlands?"

Ned immediately made a frown. "I shall lie dead in the cold, hard ground 'fore I see a child of mine married to the Lions or their ilk."

Sansa seemed to realize she was walking on very thin ice at the moment, so she elected to move on without questioning.

"And the Stormlands?"

"Same with the Riverlands and the Vale. There could be a point to be made for either Stannis or Renly, with Stannis' late wife birthing their only living child before passing one. However I would not think to sentence you to the dreary place of Dragonstone."

"And Renly, father?"

It took all his control not to blush. Speaking with Robert made him aware of Renly's…nighttime habits. He knew of many lords who would consider it a great sin. Ned truly did not mind on a man's…preferences in the bed chambers. But a marriage was more political than for love…and a childless marriage was as useful as an unsharpened sword.

"Renly…I fear Renly would not agree with you. He is much too…"

"Yes?"

"Think about it this way. I think if you'd marry Renly you would soon find out that he would be unfulfilling to you. As if you took a bite of an apple pastry, only to find no apples within."

Sansa, perhaps too young fully understand the connections with people, just nodded in confusion.

"Which leaves either Dorne or the Reach."

Sansa leaned back in her chair and sat in momentary thoughtfulness. By the way her eyes moved about, it was apparent she was thinking of the options. She leaned forward and put her hands in her lap, crossed.

"If I was to marry into Dorne, it should be of House Dayne. Some members still follow the Old Gods which will come to placate the northern lords."

All my children seem to be smarter than I shall ever be.

"Which narrows it down to either the Daynes, or the Tyrells. The North will be more receptive of the Daynes, but we would gain much more with the Tyrells."

"Aye." He stood up from his chair. His movement broke Sansa from her trance of meditation. She stood up to face her father. He pulled her into a hug, resting one hand on the back of her head. "You make me proud everyday Sansa. I am glad you put as much thought into this, or more, as your mother and I did."

"Thank you father. I hoped one of you would see my worth eventually."

"Oh stupid girl. You should know that I have always seen the greatness in you."

"And your decision?"

"Oh we have a month to decide. Let us think on it, aye?"

"Yes father, good idea. We can discuss it with the family!"

He chuckled. "Aye, that we shall. Come, let us speak with your mother."

*So I have been informed that despite Sansa's very southern viewpoint in ASOIAF, apparently she was still quite intelligent, even from the beginning. Both my personal ASOIAF scholar has informed me of that, as well as some others who have DMed me. I hoped to capture her natural intelligence in this chapter and do her justice.

**So, Roose Bolton...I KNOW, SO GROSS. But think of this as if it were medieval ages as this is set in that theme. Disregarding age (as most of the time it was) let me know what you think of the possibility. DM me or leave a review! THIS IS ONLY FOR/AGAINST BOLTON MARRIAGE! If y'all decide against it, I am already aware of who she would marry in the south. PLEASE LET ME KNOW.