A long chapter for you guys. It features some more characters to bring more drama into the siblings' lives.

Sansa stepped out of the black cab and made her way over to the gate. She buzzed the button on the intercom and it came alive, an almost electronic voice answering.

"Lannister Household, state your purpose for your visit."

"I'm here to help Tyrion with the dinner. I'm a friend of his."

The voice sighed and soon the intercom buzzed continuously and the gates opened so she could enter.

"Thank you," she called out.

It was a small trek past the endless green fields and trees and long pebbled driveway but she finally made it to the front door, rubbing underneath the skin on her heart, hissing as her fingers grazed over one of her broken ribs.

Why hadn't she asked the cab to continue to the door?

Just as she stepped forward to ring the doorbell, the door was forcefully opened,

"Thoros Myr, Tyrion Lannister's majordomo. In more words, the head of his employees. I oversee everything in this house," he said, waving for her to follow him. "that includes the welfare of any guests. May I take your coat before I lead you to Mr Lannister?

Sansa was stunned as she slipped her coat off and gave it to Thoros who passed it onto a maid.

"This way."

Thoros led her into the kitchen which was adjourned with architectural and elegantly shaped lions as trellises with gold outlining. The counters were made of white wood with marble worktops and the appliances were stainless steel.

"Sansa! You made it." Tyrion smiled, stepping off his stool. "Would you like a glass of wine? I can take it from here, Thoros. Thank you."

Thoros bowed slightly and left, his hands clasped behind his back as he went to instruct other maids and side help.

"I can't have alcohol..."

"Ah, yes. You're probably on some strong painkillers. How about some sparkling Shloer instead?" Tyrion asked, heading towards the fridge.

Sansa nodded, placing her handbag on the counter island. It was a grey Michael Kors handbag which she'd recently invested money into to match her skintight grey, pinstriped pantsuit and grey courts. She had gone for the classy but party look as she planned to stop by the club to see how Loras was getting on.

He had told her that he was going as a courtesy visit and to discuss plans with Robert but he had also told her that he needed an escape plan. That is where she came in handy.

"Shloer sounds great."

"Red grape or white grape?"

Sansa chuckled. "Red is fine. So, who's attending?" She asked, smiling gratefully as Tyrion handed her an apron and her glass of Shloer.

"My father, my siblings of course and my brother's wife, Brienne."

"The superintendent, right?"

Tyrion chuckled, stepping back onto his stool. "Don't worry. She doesn't bite. Unless she's doing MMA. That's how my brother and she met. They went to the same MMA club after secondary school. They only got together five years ago and married two years ago after she finally accepted his proposal. She didn't change her surname though. Her maiden name instils fear into convicts."

"How flattering."

"She's lovely, really. Wish I could have married someone like her. Shae... We were blinded by lust."

Sansa nodded and sipped her drink before placing it back down and clapping her hands.

"Right. When I was growing up, my mother was hellbent on all of us learning how to cook so she got some famous TV chef to teach us for three months. I'll have you know that I can whip up a mean ale lamb and beef pot pie served with extra vegetables and basmati rice. It's a mix-up but you should trust me, it's amazing. Or I can prepare some rice with honey mustard and carrot chicken sauce? Or even a steak meal served with a vegetable pâté and grilled potatoes?"

Tyrion raised his eyebrows, taking a long sip of his wine before clearing his throat.

"And I thought that I was the better chef. My father does like any meats that have ale inside them."

"And who cares about what your father likes? This is about your brother and sister, not some cheat."

Tyrion smiled. "You're right. This is not about him. Let's get to work. I have a red velvet birthday cake to show you after that I'll decorate. I'll have you know, I bake in my spare time."

Sansa beamed. "Can't wait. Let's get cracking then!"

...

"Gendry, when you get this voicemail, please call me."

Arya hung up and settled back into the sofa, giving Bran a soft smile when he turned to her with his eyes wide.

"G-Gendry Baratheon?"

"Yeah. He's still a friend of mine."

Satisfied with her answer, Bran returned his attention to the iPad which Sansa had gifted him through the mail. There were maths equations on the YouTube video he was watching created to stimulate his brain. Jon had also subscribed to English focused channels to help with Bran's speech therapy.

They had been able to take Bran to see his doctor who was pleased to say that he was improving drastically and they might even consider getting him started on physiotherapy.

But Jon knew that Bran had changed and was someone new. Someone older and wiser. He knew that Bran knew what was happening to their family. He wasn't as absentminded as he was before. He was very much alert and interested in his surroundings.

"Four hundred and ninety-two."

Arya raised her eyebrows and turned to find Bran smiling when he got the answer to the maths equation right.

"Well done, Bran."

Her attention went to her other brother who was rushing to get his shoes and coat on.

"Where are you going?"

"Casualty at work. I've been called in but Osha will be here in ten minutes. Will you be o-"

"I'm nearly eighteen, I'm sure I can handle listening to Boy Genius over here for ten minutes."

Jon chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead and a kiss to Bran's hair before grabbing his keys and bag.

"I'll see you guys when I finish. Love you!" He yelled as he dashed out the door, the door slamming shut behind him.

"Love you too!" Arya said, rolling her eyes.

Bran nudged her and pointed at the iPad. He had now put it on camera mode and gestured for her to take the iPad.

"You want a photo?"

Bran nodded. "Best... Sister... Number two..."

"Hey!" Arya laughed but she took a picture of them smiling and made sure to email the photo to Sansa.

After Osha arrived, she took Bran to have a bath, leaving Arya getting ready to head out.

"I'll be back before Jon even notices I'm gone. You won't tell him I've popped out, will you Osha?"

Osha sighed, crossing her arms. "You ran away last time. Jon specifically asked for me to keep you in."

Arya rolled her eyes and crossed her own arms as she dared Osha into having a staredown with her.

The caregiver finally cracked after five minutes and raised her arms in annoyance.

"Just don't come running to me when he finds out. I give you ten minutes, no more and no less!"

Arya grinned, rushing out to get her bus just in time. When she arrived at Hot Pie's café, she greeted Nikolina and was surprised to see Gendry waiting at their usual table.

"Gendry."

"Arya."

He stood up and placed a kiss on her cheek before taking her hand and sitting down. She sat in front of him with a frown.

"You haven't been responding to my calls or texts, Gendry."

Gendry chuckled. "Because I knew you'd come here as a result. I didn't think you'd want to see me."

"Why would you think that?" Arya frowned.

"Because I didn't help you when your brother and sister found you at the docks. I shouldn't have told them that you might be there."

"It doesn't matter. I missed Bran anyway."

Gendry gave her a small smile, leaning over to kiss her before squeezing her hand. "I'm sorry. I heard about your sister by the way. How is she?"

"She's fine. Thanks for asking. I, myself, heard about something you're doing next week."

"What?"

"Your Uncle Renly's stag do. Someone we know is his best friend."

"Ah, you've met Loras. He's a good guy. So is his sister, she's nice. We've only met a few times."

Arya nodded and smiled when Nikolina gave them a large slice of pie for them to share with two spoons.

"Just a steak pie. Unfortunately, Elliot was too sick to think of new flavours."

"Give him our love."

Nikolina smiled. "I will, dear."

The couple dug into the pie and both moaned in pleasure. It seemed tastier than before.

"Nothing beats a good steak pie." Arya smiled. "Oh, I forgot to pay. I'll-"

Gendry stopped her from leaving the table before getting his wallet out from his pocket and placing a ten-pound note on the table. "I've got this."

"I can pay for myself. And it's only a pound."

"The rest is a tip for being so nice to us."

Arya chuckled. "Because we're regular customers. Brings new business. Anyway, let's finish this pie and I'll maybe let you walk me home."

"Maybe? Come on, I'll walk you home any time of the day."

"Fine. I'll maybe let you have a kiss after you drop me by my door."

Gendry smiled. "Now, that's like it. And if your brother sees, I won't care."

...

The sound of cutlery hitting China plates filled the air as everyone ate, nodding approvingly every other bite to themselves.

"So, where is Robert, Cersei? I was sure he would grace us with his presence as it is your birthday," Tywin said, looking at her through the top of his spectacles.

Cersei took an unimpressed sip of her wine before placing the glass back onto the table and eating.

"Not a word? Then you must have got the divorce papers."

Cersei dropped her knife and fork onto the plate. "We are not getting a divorce. It was merely a rough patch that we were going through. We are staying together for the children. If you must know, Tywin."

Tywin chuckled and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "And you, Tyrion? Has your wife filed for divorce yet?"

Tyrion set his jaw and gave his father a smile, raising his wine glass. "A toast," he began. "To my brother and sister. Happy Birthday, Jaime and Cersei. Many happy returns and all."

"Thank you." Jaime smiled, patting Tyrion's shoulder.

Cersei merely gave a humph. She raised her glass and took a long sip before turning to face Sansa.

"Robert tells me that you've taken up modelling. Sure, you won't be as great as I am but he says you're good for an amateur."

Sansa raised her eyebrow. "Thank you, Mrs Baratheon."

"Oh, please. It's just Cersei."

"Cersei," Sansa corrected herself. "What do you think of the dinner?"

Cersei smiled. "It's honestly delicious. I never thought the imp could cook-"

"He's not an imp. And I cooked..." Sansa trailed off, sipping her drink.

"The food is lovely," Brienne said. She could sense the tense atmosphere in the room and she'd rather have it dwindle than increase.

Thoros entered the room, whispered into Tyrion's ear and left as quickly as he arrived.

"Well, it looks like we have another guest!" Tyrion announced.

...

Arya placed a kiss on Gendry's lips and turned, opening her front door and closing it behind her.

There was no need for goodbyes or good nights. A kiss was enough.

"Your brother called. Says he'll be home by 3 AM. I said you were napping."

"Thanks, Osha," Arya replied, taking her coat and boots off. "What's for dinner?"

Osha scoffed. "Do I look like your maid? There's a frozen pizza which I've just put in the oven. It will be done in fifteen minutes. I have Bran answering History questions in his room and I'm supposed to tell you to do your own homework."

"Thank you, super-nurse. I'll get right on that. Call me when dinner's ready."

Arya gave her a small smile before going into her room and closing the door behind her. She picked up her diary which she hadn't even given a thought to in years and placed it gently in the bin. The thing got her in trouble more times than she could remember. Even when she was writing things in it.

She glanced at her school bag then at her iPod. Homework or dancing?

Dancing definitely.

She placed her iPod in its dock on her desk and took her foil fencing sword which she named Needle. Needle was light at a weight of 500 grams. She had slightly heavier swords like her épée and sabre but Needle was her favourite even though it could only target her opponent's torso.

"Let's dance, Needle," Arya said, turning the music onto a classical tune.

She began to water dance, a form of swordsmanship she had learnt alongside fencing with Syrio. Her movements were of fluidity and they were quick as the music became more and more intense.

It made her feel alive.

At times like this moment, she was glad she had two older siblings willing to put their lives on the line to save her and find the money to do what she loved.

Thwack!

She hit Sansa's mahogany dressing gown which was hung on the wardrobe. That was one way to end the classical piece as it dwindled down.

"Arya? The pizza's ready!"

Arya smiled to herself and turned off her iPod before placing Needle in its special bag by her bed.

"We'll pick our dance up later."

...

Sansa sat quietly with Cersei and Brienne in the drawing room. It was like the one she used to have back at Winterfell Manor. There were three drawing rooms; one for the parents, another for the boys and one for Sansa and Arya. All of which to entertain any friends who may come over.

"So, you cooked my birthday dinner, decorated my birthday cake... why are you here at the dinner?" Cersei asked. "Just out of curiosity. Oh, are you and my baby brother sleeping with each other?"

Brienne looked horrified as Sansa's eyes widened, causing her to spit out her drink in displeasure.

"No! He saved my life."

"Oh! Yes, I did hear about some girl he saved. I know it was you."

"Are you okay, though?" Brienne asked.

Sansa nodded. "I'm fine, thank you."

Brienne leant back in her seat and took a sip of her wine. Although, Sansa didn't think it was an alcoholic beverage.

"I knew your mother. We were good friends, she knew my father," Brienne began. "He had dementia and had been scammed by some men claiming to fix windows. They had conned about twenty-thousand pounds from his savings out of him and your mother got every penny back for him. I'll forever be grateful for her help. She also helped my husband at his architecture firm. Some person wanted to sue them but it turned out they were lying as they had never even used my husband's firm for business."

Sansa smiled. "My mother helped a lot of people. My father saved a lot too."

"How did a lawyer and a doctor end up having a model for a daughter?" Cersei asked. "I wonder how that happened."

"I'll have you know that my parents also had a doctor, a child genius, an Olympic candidate and a rising Martial Artist."

Cersei raised an eyebrow. "And also your father had his bastard child who's a doctor."

"We don't like to use that word when describing my brother. Half or not, he's my brother by blood and we love him. The same cannot be said for you towards Tyrion."

Cersei laughed. "Oh, I do love this one..." She said to Brienne. "She's so feisty! I guess that's how easy she makes it, to get into Tyrion's trousers."

Sansa stood up abruptly, almost knocking her half-full glass off the table. "I am not sleeping with your brother! He saved my life and I decided to repay him by helping him make a lovely dinner to celebrate yours and your twin brother's birthday but all evening, you've been making snide remarks against him and me. What do you gain from it? Why do you belittle him?"

"Because he killed my mother!" Cersei cried out.

Brienne sighed, placing a hand on her head as she downed her glass and stood up.

"For the last time, Cersei. Your mother died in childbirth. It is extremely normal and no one should be punished just for the circumstances of how they were born. My mother died after having me, as well. Yet, you don't see my siblings blaming me, do you?" Brienne asked. "You are a spiteful bitch and this poor girl has done nothing but, be an amazing host in your honour. Now, how did an architect and a university teacher end up having a spiteful, spoilt brat as a daughter who leeches money off every single husband she marries?" Brienne pondered. "At least they had two wonderful men out of their marriage."

Brienne suddenly paled and Sansa found herself wincing as she helped the older woman sit down.

"Shall I call for help? Get you some water?" Sansa asked, sitting beside her.

"No need," Cersei mumbled. "She's pregnant. Aren't you?"

Brienne glared at Cersei and the latter smiled, shaking her head as tears pooled in her eyes.

"I've truly lost him to you." She whispered. "How far along are you?"

"Ten weeks. I've only just found out and I was going to tell him the moment we got home."

Cersei gave her a small smile. "Well, we can be pregnant buddies."

"What do you mean?"

"Robert and I didn't stop the divorce because it was would cost more than remaining together... We found out that I was thirteen weeks pregnant. I'm sure my step-son would have more of a reason to hate me as well as my children."

Sansa swallowed deeply and turned to Cersei. "I'm sure Gendry doesn't hate you. Nor Robert."

"Don't flatter me. I don't need your pity. I get enough from Joffrey who I'm sure hates my guts every time he looks at me."

"Joffrey hates everyone. He was the worst when we dated back when we were fourteen," Sansa stated. "I believe he hates himself."

Cersei gave a snort. "If he did then I think he would have taken his own life by now. Tommen is the only son I know loves me but he's beginning to resent me for being so into his life. Don't even get me started on Myrcella. She's too engrossed in her boyfriend, Trystane Martell. Her head's in the bloody clouds, she barely notices everyone but that boy. How can I bring a child into a family who will barely acknowledge them?"

"I'm sure you have some love inside you to bring this child up differently. Maybe it won't turn up as demented as the rest of you." Brienne said.

"One thing I know and wish to tell you both," Cersei began softly. "Love no one but your children. Not even your spouses. Although they will let you down sometime or another, you'll do everything in your power to protect them until your dying breath." Tears slipped down her cheeks and she wiped them just as her cousin entered. "Lancel. I'm guessing you men are finished talking about golf or whatever you were talking about?"

Lancel chuckled, raising his glass as a toast to her. "Cersei, my big cousin with the attitude. Why are you ladies so glum? It's a bloody celebration!"

Brienne smiled. "Although, I think it's time Jaime and I headed home."

"I should head home too," Sansa said.

"I didn't see a car outside. How did you get here?" Brienne asked her.

"Cab."

Brienne clicked her tongue. "Ah, I guess we'll drop you off then."

"No need-"

"I'll drop her off!" Cersei said quickly. "Gives us a chance to talk about her blossoming modelling career."

Sansa blushed. She honestly didn't want to take up a lift with either of them to meet Loras but it was still snowing and Tyrion lived so far away, she didn't think a cab would be willing to make its way here to pick her up at this time in the night.

"Fine. Thank you, Cersei," she begrudgingly said.

Something told her that she wouldn't be getting a chance to talk about her career with the blonde.

...

Dany handed Jon a file and gestured to the many people walking around with one injury or more.

"Theon Greyjoy, your first patient for tonight. There was an accident on the motorway due to the roads being icy and people speeding just to get home. Many casualties and we look like we have zombies all over the bloody place-"

A patient spat up blood on her back, leaving her shocked, her mouth wide open as Jon covered his mouth to prevent himself from sniggering.

"Well, there goes my third scrubs. Why did I even agree to a twenty-four-hour shift? Was I mad?"

"Yeah. You were. Go and get change, I'll somehow deal with your patient and mine at the same time." He grinned, taking her files from her.

As he looked down at his own patient's notes, he found himself recognising the name.

"Theon Greyjoy?" He looked up to see the person in question on a gurney, holding a bloodied bandage to his head.

Jon slowly made his way over to him and the man looked up, his eyes widening in recognition.

"Oh, look. It's Jon bloody Snow!" Theon said. "Just the guy I was coming to see!"

"Let me sort that laceration on your head out and we can talk after, mate."

Theon complied, taking his hand away from his head to reveal a long open wound above his right eyebrow. "Smashed my face against the window after being T-Boned. How does that even happen on the motorway?" He asked, grimacing as Jon tended to the wound.

"It's a bit deep. You might need stitches but I'd like to send you for an MRI scan to see if there's any lasting damage to your head. You don't seem concussed, however."

"I'm fine, no need."

"Just a precaution. Can't have my brother's former best friend collapsing on us, can we?"

Theon shrugged and continued to wince as Jon cleaned up his wound and placed plaster strips on it.

"I'll get someone to stitch that up for you and take you up for the scan. I have other patients to see-" Jon said, heading off.

"Wait. I need to tell you why I came on down remember?"

Jon turned back around and nodded. "Go ahead."

Theon dug into his pocket and gave Jon an envelope. "This letter was sent to the manor two days ago when I came to inspect the place after an alarm went off. I would have come down then but the freak blizzard came and it was too dangerous to get anywhere. Jon, you are the current Lord of Winterfell Manor. Although you do not inherit your money until you're thirty-two, you do inherit the manor with a bit of wealth. This was revised in Eddard's and Catelyn's wills. As the eldest living grandchild of Lord Rickard Stark, and we are unable to find your Uncle Brandon, the manor's yours. The best part of being an heir hunter is telling heirs of their fortunes." Theon grinned despite the pain in his head.

Jon's hands shook, his breath hitching in his throat as he opened up the letter and read its contents. It was clearly written in black and white. Brandon, Lyanna and Benjen had never had children - only Eddard had and as the eldest living relative through Rickard's second born, Jon was the rightful owner.

"Congratulations, Jon. You're fucking rich again."

Oh my God...