Sansa hated the situation she was in. They were going to leave to march on King's Landing the next day. They knew that Cersei was planning something but they weren't sure what and the longer they were leaving it the more time the bitch had to plan. Sansa was staying in the North, one of Queen Daenerys and King Jon's seven kingdoms.

Oh yes, her brother had married the dragon queen. It was the easiest solution, they both simpered, staring longingly at each other. Jon made Sansa warden of the north. It was the best thing that came out of the incestuous marriage.

But now Sansa had to stay in the north, with Tyrion who Daenerys was leaving behind for whatever reason. Probably because she didn't trust Sansa, even if they were family, by law, now.

It wasn't necessarily that she minded Tyrion. In fact, quite the contrary. She was sure that they would have had quite a happy marriage if things had gone differently. They got on very well, better than Sansa had got on with any of her other suitors. He listened to her talk about her torture, from both Joffrey and Ramsey. She listened to him talk about Shae and his father and what a mess that had all turned out to be. Sansa wasn't as shocked as Tyrion expected her to be that Shae, her handmaiden, was Tyrion's lover.

So, no, she got on with Tyrion very well. Perhaps too well. And, so, here she was. At her sister's door. Ready to ask advice.

When Sansa was younger and she didn't understand Arya, she thought that, one day, in some glorious future, she would be queen and happily married with children and Arya would come to her for advice and Sansa would laugh at her and patronise her.

How her plan for the future had changed. Sansa wasn't sure she ever wanted to get married again. But that didn't mean she had to be closed off from love.

Tyrion was older than her. He was a Lannister. He served Daenerys, although Sansa supposed they all did now.

Sansa swung open her sister's door. She needed help.

Rather than an empty room, which she had half expected, Sansa found Arya astride her little blacksmith, both as naked as the day they were born. "Arya!" Sansa screeched and Arya practically growled at her, clambering off her lover and pulling a blanket over them.

"What the hell are you doing?" Arya demanded.

"What am I doing?" Sansa replied. "It's the middle of the day! This isn't a brothel!"

Arya did not take kindly to that statement. Due to the look on her face and the glance to her sword behind her, Sansa fled from the room, feeling utterly mortified, slightly jealous and very angry.

The scars on Arya's side were not from any light training.

XXX

Apologising to Arya was not the hardest part of the conversation, although difficult. Her sister took the apology while the two of them drank wine together that evening. They spoke for a while about generalities, the upcoming war, Cersei, Arya's relationship with Gendry, Jon and Daenerys.

"What happened?" Sansa finally had the courage to ask. Arya looked up from her wine and gave her sister a funny look.

"Do I need to tell Tyrion to have a conversation about sex with you?" Arya asked. Sansa bristled but decided being irritated at her sister and telling her about what had happened with Ramsay was not the best option. Rather, Sansa rolled her eyes.

"I know what sex is. What happened to your side?"

Arya looked shocked at first and Sansa was quite pleased to have shocked her unshockable sister.

"My journey here wasn't an easy one," Arya replied tightly. Sansa wanted to push her, wanted to be able to help her sister to cope. "I've had this conversation once already recently. I don't want to have it again, Sansa."

"With Gendry?" Sansa questioned, purposefully using her sister's lover's name. Sansa didn't expect her sister to smile but she did.

"Yes."

They were silent for a few moments. Sansa felt a bit envious that her sister, who she had not seen for so long and who she had thought she was becoming closer to since returning to Winterfell, was going to someone else to talk about her troubles. Although perhaps Arya had no troubles. Who would know? She was always so straight-faced.

"Why did you come to my rooms, Sansa?" Arya asked, turning to her. Sansa wondered whether she should even tell Arya. Was it a ridiculous question to even ask?

Sansa stared at her skirts. "I've been considering my feelings for Lord Tyrion."

Arya arched her eyebrow. "Feelings?"

Sansa gave Arya what she hoped was a withering look. She did not want to be mocked. "I just- I was thinking about remarrying him."

"Remarrying him?" Arya repeated and then shrugged. "You always wanted to be married."

"It's not that he's- he is kind to me."

"You have low standards," Arya said with a grin. "He can't be the only man who is kind to you."

Sansa looked down. "Arya, Ramsay Bolton was not kind to me." Arya was silent. She knew that she was thinking about Theon and the way they knew that Ramsay had treated him. "We were married in the godswood, just like I had always dreamed, and I thought he might have been okay and then he was raping me."

Sansa said all of this without crying. She had cried when she told Tyrion. Arya's face was angry. It was nothing next to Tyrion's, but Arya was always good at hiding her emotions. "He is dead now but I can still feel his touch on me. I can still hear his words, his threats. When I wake up after dreaming of him, I can feel him inside me."

Arya was shaking. Sansa wondered what she wanted to do. Ramsay was dead, the Boltons were all dead. There was nothing Arya could do. "Joffrey, too, when I was his fiancée, he threatened me, was awful to me. He said he was going to rape me, on my wedding night. It's only now that I can even imagine it. At the time, it repulsed me, of course it did, but I can only imagine it now. I dream of it."

"But he never-"

"No. I didn't sleep that night. I listened to my new drunk husband snore and slept with a knife from the wedding banquet in my hand. I didn't even know what to do with it but I needed something.

"I never wanted to get married again. When Theon and I ran away and Brienne saved my life, I decided I would be just like her, but not a fighter. I would be strong enough on my own, I decided. And then I saved the Battle of the Bastards and I thought I could do it. And then I saw Brienne's face when she thought we were going to kill Jaime Lannister and I saw his face when she stood up to save him, when she told us he was an honourable man and I realised that even Brienne didn't want to do life alone. She could but why should she? And then I was in the crypts with Tyrion-"

"Marry him," Arya interrupted. "You're not built for life on your own. You never wanted life on your own. Tyrion is a good man and he will look after you."

"I- it would be a good match. It would- Stark and Lannister-"

"Sansa," Arya said, shooting her a smile, "you're allowed to say you love him."

Sansa's lips parted and she didn't say what her sister wanted her to say. She wasn't even sure she felt it. She reached across and gripped Arya's hand.