It felt like a thousand years since she'd last been home.

In some ways, Sansa supposed it had been a long time- her wedding alone was three months ago, meaning she'd been away from Winterfell for nearly a year now. She put a hand to her growing belly as they approached the main gate, it's looming walls and peaks bringing her a sense of joy and dread all rolled into one. The gate was opened and inside they went, Jon beside her, Arya and Tyrion behind them, with little Alys tagging along beside Brienne, who was bringing up the rear of the party. The people in the courtyard all began to stand upright, their surprise turning to joy at the sight of their redheaded queen, who raised her hand in greeting. Cheers began to erupt all around, the people both shocked but elated at the sight of their queen back home.

And beside her... They began to fall to their knees in reverence, for they realized just who it was at their queen's side. With her she had brought the King of the remaining Six Kingdoms, the Keeper of the Realm, Aegon Targaryen... No, their own Jon Snow. "Your grace," the nearest man said as Jon slipped from his horse, pausing only a moment to help Sansa down from her own. As he feet touched the ground, despite the heavy cloak she wore, all eyes fell upon the belly she carried with her and now her people knew within her she carried the heir to all Seven Kingdoms. "You honor us with your presence," the man went on, bowing low before both rulers, his dark hair dusted with gray. "My lady," he then turned to Sansa, reaching for her hand, tears flooding his eyes without shame. "Welcome home."

A smile curved on her lips and Sansa drew back her hand a moment later, fixing the man with her steady stare. "Flynn Cassel," Sansa greeted, the man second in command behind Lord Darnley, a man born the second son but now the first since his brother perished several years before, while serving Robert Baratheon. "I thank you for taking care of Winterfell in my absence since Lord Darnley..." She trailed off, eyes darkening as she looked up at the castle that loomed behind them. "I should like to rest... And then we shall discuss all that has happened since I've been away." Flynn gave a single nod before he snapped his fingers and men sprung forward, most leading away their horses to stable while one remained behind to offer to carry the single trunk of belongings brought with the group.

It was not an hour later when both Sansa and Jon found themselves settled comfortably into the bedroom that had once belonged to her own mother and father. "Is is strange?" Jon asked as she sank onto the big bed, cloak thrown across a chair, her gown unlaced and slipping from her shoulders. "To be in this room, like this with me?" He stood before her then, his dark eyes falling upon hers, unable to stifle the lust coursing through his veins. He loved her in moments like this- with her gown half on, her hair loose around her face, a little smile toying with her lips. Dropping onto his hunches, he reached for her then, hands caressing the bulk of her belly, the warmth of her skin radiating through her heavy gown.

"No..." She spoke softly, her own hand running through his soft black hair, head tilting slightly to the side. "It feels right." She admitted, their gazes meeting as Jon raised his face to look up, though his hands remained upon her. The memories of this room ever belonging to anyone else were so dim now... It had been years since this room had belonged to her parents and she'd never once shared this room with Ramsay. A shudder raced through her at the thought of him and Jon must have noticed because he was then moving, coming to sit beside her instead, instinctively putting his arm around her.

Drawing her close, he felt as Sansa dipped her head against his shoulder, their free hands clasped together over her growing belly. "I didn't mean to..." He murmured against the shell of her ear, breathing in her sweet scent, the flutter of their child beneath their palms the only distraction from the past. She shook her head but did not speak on, but rather clutched his hand a little bit tighter, reminding herself that there was nothing left in the world to harm her or the future she and Jon had together. They were safe, winter was over and spring was on its way.

But for some reason, Sansa could not shake the cold sense of dread that had settled into her bones. Safety did not feel like this, safety felt warm. Safety felt the same as when Jon held her in his arms. Safety was not her Lord Commander of Winterfell getting murdered in the dead of night. Something was amiss... And she vowed to find out what it was and put a stop to it.

Before it was too late.

[ x x x ]

It was dark, so dark that she could see nothing before her... But then, high above the clouds parted and the moonlight streamed down, guiding her way down the path. She knew where she was, for she had walked this trail many times as a child, but something felt off about it. Something was... Different.

She raised her eyes to the sky a moment before the howls began, familiar pitches that reminded her of home. Direwolves, she thought to herself as she walked on, the calls of the animals leading her deeper into the forest. It was then that she began to hear the fast-paced footsteps, could feel the brushing of fur against her as five little wolves dashed past her on the path, no more than pups, their howls echoing each other through the night. She increased her speed, hoping to keep up with the pack, her heart racing hard within her chest as she ran after them.

Then, she caught the sound of something else entirely, something she was not expecting to hear. It was laughter, floating alongside the howls of the wolves, laughter from a child that was racing on by her then, dark hair familiar to her for some reason. Sansa slowed to a stop as they reached a clearing where the five direwolves stood, the small child dancing among them as if they too belonged to the pack. It must have been her footsteps that alerted them, for as she too stepped into the clearing all the wolves had their eyes upon her, and then the child was turning towards her too.

Surprise took over then as she locked eyes with the small boy, who's piercing blue eyes reflected the moonlight from above. A name was on the tip of her tongue then, but she did not have time to speak the name before the child let out another laugh, his feet steering him towards her instead. As he raced towards her, the direwolves followed after, like he truly was one of them. She opened her arms to him a moment later, a gesture that felt natural, and she felt the warm weight of his body as he lept into her arms...

And just like that, she woke.

Sitting up in bed, she breathed in and out, steadying her beating heart. Turning her eyes, she caught sight of Jon, fast asleep in the bed beside her. At least she'd not woken him. It was that dream again... The one she'd been having ever since returning to Winterfell two weeks before. Every night the dream was the same, though each night she got a little further along the path... This time, she had seen the child, had felt the direwolves. A strange feeling was creeping into her heart and despite the early hour, Sansa knew she would never return to sleep. Rising up from the bed, she grabbed her cloak from the chair it'd been draped across and wrapped it around herself as she slipped from the room, hoping a simple walk would ease her racing thoughts.

The guards outside her door both turned to her as she went past, though she waved at them as she went, indicating she was fine on her own. Stalking the old corridors of Winterfell, Sansa did not stop until she'd reached the crypt below the place, where her family had all been buried throughout the years. And it was not just her parents and siblings there, it was almost all of the Stark's since the very beginning. Coming to stand before her parents graves, Sansa bowed her head and prayed, asking her father and the Old Gods for any sort of advice, for any sort of sign as to what she was supposed to do now.

And then at that very moment, the crypt door opened and she turned, finding herself face to face with Jon. A smile tugged on her lips and she fell into his open arms, face buried in his chest for several long moments. But then she was pulling back, looking up into his face as within her belly she felt their child's movements, more strong and true than they had ever been. She had asked the Gods for a sign and they had delivered. Sansa knew what she had to do... And that was find the person that had murdered Darnley and then find Bran. And more than anything else, she would love the life she and Jon had created together and protect them from harm. She would be a good mother and a good queen, because that was her duty. And truthfully, there was nothing else more she wanted in this world.

"All good, sweetheart?" Jon asked softly, tenderly stroking the length of her hair, knowing this was not the first time she'd woken far earlier than anyone else. He worried for her, especially for her health considering her condition. But Sansa gave his hand a gentle squeeze and her smile was bright as she looked up at him with a little nod, drawing his other hand to her belly. There, beneath his palm, he could feel the strong movements of their child and at once he was grinning, excitement replacing all other thoughts and feelings of the moment. "Strong." He commented, moving his hand across her stomach, trying to capture that feeling again, but it seemed that their child had finally calmed.

For a moment, Sansa considering telling Jon about the dream she'd been having, but decided against it when their child began to move. That alone took precedent over everything else around them, this first time they felt the true movements of their child. Instead, she decided she might tell him later, perhaps if she had it again. Besides, she could already hear him using her pregnancy to excuse the dreams, citing the strange dreams she'd been having during the weeks before knowing she was pregnant as evidence. And so instead, she allowed Jon to lead her back towards the stairs, where they would return to their chambers and perhaps remain abed a whole lot longer than necessary.

[ x x x ]

"I find it hard to believe that no one saw anything at all."

The men in the room exchanged looks among one another before all eyes returned to their Queen, who in her severe black dress and fur wrappings looked very much the part of Northern Queen. Her long red hair was a sharp contrast to the black of her garb, its length freely flowing down her back, though a braid was woven in at the crown of her head. "My apologies, my queen, but it happened in the dead of night, on the single evening of the week that his wife was away visiting a sick sister just outside the village." Flynn was the first to speak up, coming to stand before the table where Sansa and Jon sat. The King had yet to speak out of respect for his wife's duty to her people, to her title, and so he would remain quiet unless spoken directly to. "There was nothing taken from the house, but..." He trailed off, glancing towards another man, the look on his face one full of uncertainty.

Realizing he struggled to speak the truth, Sansa sighed, hands spread out across the flat plane of the table. "Speak, Lord Cassel, there are no judgments here." Sansa encouraged, softening her tone, knowing her frustrations would only hinder matters. There was no sense in being angry with her lords, especially when she knew them to be suffering the loss of both their friend and comrade, but as well as the fear of potentially being next. "Speak if there is something else you would like to say. Any of you."

There was something else he wanted to say, but they had agreed upon sparing their queen such graphic details, besides, they still could not say for certain what they saw was true. "My lady, Lord Darnley was murdered but we could find no sign of injury nor poison." Flynn finally spoke, ignoring the looks shot to him by the others as if they'd not wished for him to say such words.

"Then how do you know he was murdered and not that he simply died of natural causes?" It was Jon who spoke this time, leaning forwards, his fingers pressed together as he looked out across the men gathered before them. "What leads 'ye to believe the man was murdered?" He was much reminded of his days as Lord Commander, when meetings like these were held almost every single day. Sansa glanced his way, having wondered the very same thing, but then swiveled her gaze back to Flynn and the other men.

"Sire, it was the look upon Darnley's face," Flynn admitted after several long moments of silence. "He looked as if he'd died looking into the eyes of true evil, so afraid did he look." They all had seen him and they could all recall the fear frozen onto Darnley's face, a look that would not soon be forgotten by any man that bore witness to it. "And when we had a maester inspect his body, he could find no trace of injury anywhere. It's as if he died of fright." Neither of his sovereigns spoke, though Sansa leaned back in her chair, hands folded across the curve of her pregnant belly. "I know it sounds strange, unbelievable even, but I swear to you it is what we saw-"

"Easy, Flynn." Jon interrupted, holding up a hand to silence the man. "You forget all the unbelievable things your queen and I have seen along the years." A quick smile took root on Sansa's face though it faded as Jon spoke on. "I think more investigation must be done, and more than anything I'd like to focus on the queen's missing brother." He spared each man within the room a glance, seeing each of their silent nods, knowing these men were frightened of what they'd found in Darnley's corpse. And that in itself frightened him. "Please continue on in your search for answers and speak to us the moment something is found." Something about being back in Winterfell was leaving him anxious and he was more than ready to get Sansa back to King's Landing where she could be safe.

"Yes, your grace," Flynn mumured, offering the royal couple a bow, along with his five comrades. And then they filed from the room, leaving Jon and Sansa alone aside from Brienne who continued to stand guard outside the door. For several moments neither of them spoke, though Jon kept his eyes upon her, watching as she mulled over the conversation they'd just had with the Lords. It was true what he'd said- they had seen many unbelievable things over the years, so this mystery of Lord Darnely's death wouldn't shock them as they might have thought. Dead without a trace of injury or poison? Hell, he'd been killed and brought back to life! He'd fought alongside dragons and against the undead. Nothing could surprise him anymore.

"Sansa."

The voice at the door caught both of their attention and they turned to face Arya, who was frowning as she approached them at the table. "Arya, what is it?" Sansa asked, facing her little sister who though small in stature was anything but little any longer. Sometimes it was still yet hard to look upon her and not see that little kid she had once been.

"I would like to go out and look for Bran myself." Arya spoke simply, her dark eyes never once straying from the piercing blue of her sister's. "It should be me." Sansa did not respond at once, though the young woman could see the answer written plainly about her face. The last of the Stark siblings had to stay together, that much Arya knew, and they were not the Stark's if they did not have Bran.

"You may go, Arya... On one condition." Sansa finally responded, giving her sister a small smile before she leaned forwards, red hair slipping across her shoulders as she moved. "I ask you to search the woods for direwolves." Silence descended and Jon cleared his throat, silencing himself when Sansa shot him a look. "I know what is said, that they have died out now, the last of them our very own that father found for us as pups... But trust me... Something tells me we have not seen the last of our family icon." Arya gave a small nod, her silence speaking volumes about the trust she felt for her older sister, and when she had gone Sansa felt the touch of Jon's hand to her arm. "I know it sounds crazy but you shall see." Jon grinned back at her and nodded as well, rising up from his chair to offer her his hand. Once on her feet, Sansa allowed Jon to steer her towards the back door, one which would lead through a secret hall towards their own chambers. "But Jon-"

"But nothing, sweetheart. You have been on your feet for days now, it is time you rest."

Though she opened her mouth to argue, Sansa quieted herself and instead she allowed him to lead her along to their chambers. He called for their dinner to be brought to them there and for that one evening, they could forget about all of the problems of Winterfell, and instead could just be together. For one evening, they were not royals, but a couple happily expecting their first child.

For one evening, they could be worry free.

[ x x x ]

"You were right."

Sansa looked up from the book she'd been reading only to find Arya there in her doorway. Her heart skipped a beat and she closed the book, not bothering to mark where she'd left off. "You mean...?" She spoke, leaning forwards in her chair, red hair falling across her shoulders as she moved.

"Yes... I found Nymeria." Arya replied as she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. "She looks to be pregnant." The younger Stark sister went on, coming to sit on the edge of Sansa's bed, keeping her eyes locked upon Sansa's. "I didn't think there would be a male direwolf out there for her to really mate with." She mused, shaking her head, still delighted deep down that she'd yet again run into the wolf she'd once called her own. "When I had last saw her she was with a pack of normal wolves."

"Perhaps they will be half-breeds." Sansa spoke her thoughts aloud, setting aside her book to rise up to her feet. Hands pressed to her lower back, she sucked in a breath, well aware of how uncomfortable she was in these final few weeks of pregnancy. "I'm fine." She spoke then, catching sight of the worry etched onto her sister's features. "Did she look to be close to her time?" Sansa redirected the conversation back to the direwolf and though Arya didn't look entirely convinced, she took the bait all the same.

"Aye, perhaps a few weeks out."

"Strange timing..." She murmured with a sigh, giving her head a quick little shake, stepping towards the window across the room. Out in the courtyard she could see Jon, a semi-circle of men gathered around him, perhaps the men sent out to scout for Bran. A sudden chill raced down her spine and Sansa could not help but to wrap her arms around herself, wondering why that old feeling of fear was creeping back into her heart. Arya was suddenly there beside her, offering warmth and reminding Sansa that things were well, despite Bran's disappearance, all was still yet well.

They would find Bran and things would be right again.