The Greatjon's snores are louder than she remembers, but she knows this is likely caused by his chest cold. His breathing is heavy and wheezing; and she tells herself to speak with the maester outside of her husband's hearing so that he will speak frankly. She wants an account of exactly how he became lost and for how long he was missing. She remembers Lord Jon saying that the two men: Prince Oberyn and the big Giant-talker, she thinks he called himself, are the men who found him beyond the Wall. Mayhaps they would speak with her as well.
She surmises that the great big man is a wildling, and she wonders how he came to be at Last Hearth. Despite any debt of gratitude her husband may owe the man, wildlings have never been welcome by the Umbers; not after what happened to Mors' daughter especially. She must remember also to ask her husband in the morning.
She turns onto her side now and faces him. She is tempted to reach out to him, but she restrains herself. He needs his rest; and he may think that she wants him to take her. She does: she does with all her heart and her body. She wants him to take her and to make her his and to blot out every bad thing that has happened: their separation, Theon's treachery, the face of the Bolton bastard, the image of her son holding a bloodied dagger, Robbs' death, her mother's grief and the horrible, empty space in her that is left from not having her Lady. But he cannot, he has told her; and she would not make him feel less than a man for wanting what he cannot give her. She will wait, as befits a lady, and she knows that it will be worth the wait to have him strong and hearty again. She smiles tenderly at him and sighs to remember his gentle and passionate nature and his boundless hunger for her.
His snoring stops abruptly and his breathing hitches. Sansa props herself on her elbow just as he erupts with loud coughing, and the bed shakes with his effort as the deep, wet rattling sounds rack his massive body. He sucks in a gasp of air and beings again, and Sansa throws back the furs and runs to the washstand to pour a cup of water and she returns to the bed to offer it to him.
Her husband reaches for it gratefully. "Thank you, Sansa. Forgive me for waking you. Are you certain that-"
She climbs back into bed next to him now. "I am quite certain, my lord; and you did not wake me. I was watching you sleep, and my mind is full of all the many things I would say to you. But we have time, my lord. Pray go back to sleep: you needs your rest," she soothes him and runs her hand into his hair, pushing back the thick, gray shaggy locks from his face.
He catches her hand and holds it in his. "Tell me then, Sansa. Tell me of one thing: the best thing that has happened since we parted. Surely you must have something good to tell me."
"I have, my lord," Sansa whispers happily. "My sister Arya is with child; and Lord Harrion travels to Winterfell to take her back to Karhold himself. She should be home with him within a moon's turn."
"That is the best possible news then. A new life. A new Stark; even if it is a Karstark," he jeers lightly. "Will you travel to Karhold for her lying-in?"
Sansa had not considered that, but she thinks now that she would like to be with Arya. "If my sister calls for me when her time comes, my lord; and with your leave, then of course I will go to her."
"You shall have my leave to go, Sansa; you seem so very excited that I could never deny you leave to visit your own sister. But forgive me now if I remember that you have not been close these many years," he ventures.
"No, we have not been," she laments. "I- I thought that she resented me…for all that happened," she begins.
"But she did not. Did I not tell you that no one blamed you, Sansa? I am pleased that you learned for yourself."
"As am I, my lord; and I thank you for your kind words, and your leave to visit Arya. Mayhaps," she ventures, "we can all go and visit Karhold. I would love for you to meet Arya. She is so very Northern, like my father…like my Aunt Lyanna."
He pats her hand now. "We needs wait for an invitation, Sansa; but I will go if it pleases you."
"Forgive me, my lord. I forget that you do not care for Lord Karstark…and yet you encouraged Lord Jon to marry Lady Alys once," she reminds him.
He snorts with derision. "I would encourage him to marry a bear or an aurochs if it meant he would beget heirs," he grumbles. "He is the only son I have left but for Eddard-" he stops suddenly and Sansa moves closer to reach her arm across his chest and hold him closer.
"Will you speak of them, my lord?" she whispers closely. "I would have you unburden yourself to me, so that I may share your sorrow."
He pats her hand again absently. "Not yet, Sansa," he says tightly. "In time. Lady Alys is betrothed now, have you not heard?"
"No, my lord."
He scoffs mildly. "She is to marry one of the wildlings; not a true wildling but a Thenn, their leader in fact. I believe they call him Magnar. They are somewhat more civilized, or so they claim: with a lord leader and laws. Their people have been given the New Gift, to put them between the true wildlings and the Northerners. The wildlings will have the Gift itself, closer to the Wall, and will be permitted to leave only if they agree to follow our laws. The Lord Commander thought it the best compromise towards the Lords and people in the Far North, and we agreed."
"That would seem wise, my lord. And did Jon broker this marriage? I am surprised Lord Karstark consented," Sansa marvels.
"The Thenns and wildlings proved themselves very capable in the fighting; and as we lost men, they joined out own ranks for rangings. They know the land; and they knew our foe better than we did…not that it helped any. They were brave, but only the dragons saved us in the end," he trails off quietly and speaks not more though Sansa looks to him expectantly.
"And had you met this Magnar, my lord?"
"Hm? Yes. A good, young man; speaks the Old Tongue but has been learning some of our common tongue. A proud, old line and so old Rickard agreed since she'll be the lady of the lands. They're to be called House Thenn and they will needs build a keep over time, and start working the land in Spring." He yawns hugely now.
"Forgive me, my lord: I keep you from sleep-"
"There is a wildling in the castle," he tells her suddenly, "doubtless you will meet him tomorrow. Good man, so don't fear him."
"I- I met the man when I arrived, and Prince Oberyn of Dorne as well, my lord; though I confess that I am surprised to find a wildling welcome at Last Hearth; but Lord Jon said that he saved…that he found you, my lord."
"Found me and saved me," he intones solemnly. "Uncle Mors may grudge him being here all he likes but I'm lord of the castle and so he can leave if he does not like it. We'll all have to learn to live with wildlings so we'd all better start sooner than later."
"Y-yes, my lord," she agrees quietly.
There is a long pause and Sansa thinks that he means to sleep again until he speaks once more.
"She came back," he tells her quietly. "Mors' girl, I mean; though she's a girl no longer."
Sansa lifts her head in astonishment. "She is here? At Last Hearth?"
"No. Come and gone," he states flatly. "This man Tormund knew her wildling husband, and so sent for her when they brought me back. She looks a wildling, of course: tough and strong, but I could still see it was her. Told me her place was with her family now but I said she should come at least to see her father," he sighs now.
"And?" Sansa prompts even though she suspects from his tone that her visit did not end happily.
"I'm a fool. I thought it would make the old man happy. But he was angry that she'd never escaped; and angry that she was not staying. So she left, saying she had sons who were to settle in the Gift and would have a place for her."
"And her husband?"
"Dead. Dead like so many others. I told her she could return any time she wished but…" he trails off.
Sansa sighs herself now. "You uncle has been angry and hurt for so long now, my lord; I fear he does not know any different anymore. I…I fear sometimes the same fate for my mother. Her grief is such that it has made her harden her heart, like stone; and she was once so soft and loving." She does not tell him that she feared the same fate for herself if he had not been found.
He pats her reassuringly. "Your mother has her children, Sansa; and that is more than Mors has had these many years. Surely she is gentle with Robb's children and your younger brothers; and I trust that your mother hasn't taken to drink."
"No, my lord, she has not," she says sadly.
"Mayhaps you'd like her to," he jests when he hears her reply, and Sansa giggles despite herself.
"She will be the lady of Winterfell again, since Bran is unmarried," she tells him now. "He…he fears that he will not be respected and so I pray that having my mother stand with him will help. She will remind people that he is my father's son."
"At least he will not have Lord Bolton eyeing his seat as warden; though who knows how that Frey wife of his will raise his heir. Those Freys are as cunning and covetous as Roose was. He'll needs watch out for the Ironborn though," he advises Sansa.
"I- I think not, my lord," Sansa begins cautiously. "Theon…Theon Greyjoy is dead."
"Dead? How and when did this happen? Was he drowned at sea?"
"He- he died trying to attack Winterfell, my lord. He did attack Winterfell…while I was there."
"What?" The Greatjon exclaims and tries to sit up now but his coughing returns to take his breath and voice away. Sansa pats and rubs his back as he tries to calm himself. "Thank you, Sansa; but how did this happen? Was anyone else hurt? Did Queen Asha mean to take the North after Robb had given her fair trading terms for their kingdoms to live peaceably side-by-side?"
"No. No, my lord; we…we were not hurt, and the queen had naught to do with it. It was all Theon, and a small party of Northmen. He only meant to take…to take…" she swallows now and tries to tell him the truth. He only meant to take me.
"Take Winterfell without taking the North? I knew him to be grasping, but not such a fool as that," he ponders.
Sansa realizes her mistake: she should not have mentioned Theon to her husband at this time of night. The whole truth, including their son's part, will needs wait until morning light. "Yes, he was a fool; and now he is dead. But it had naught to do with Queen Asha. Forgive me, my lord, I have kept you from your much-needed rest. With your leave, we shall talk of it on the morrow."
"Very well, Sansa; but I expect you to leave out nothing. I want to hear how just-missed Greyjoy missed again, and paid with his life. Well, it served him right, I've no doubt," he pronounces authoritatively.
"Yes, my lord," is all Sansa replies for now.
…..
They break their fast in the chamber the next morning with Eddard and Serena. Their son is attentive and answers his father's questions about his training and his visit with his mother's family; Serena puffs her lips and shows signs of boredom, interrupting her brother or kicking the legs of the table. Sansa becomes impatient.
"Serena, you needs sit still and be quiet or I will ask Berena to take you back to the nursery-"
"No-ooooo," Serena pouts and tries to snatch a biscuit off a plate without asking first.
"Come then," Sansa stands and holds her hand out. "If you will not behave as a lady, then you will not dine in company."
"No, I don't go!" she cries as she throws up her arms.
Eddard chastises his sister. "You're mean to Mother, Serena; and you never embraced Father."
"So? Da loves me!"
The Greatjon picks up the plate and offers his daughter the biscuit that she had coveted, and she snatches it away in triumph.
"You are right, Serena," he tells her. "Da loves you, no matter if you behave badly…as you are doing now," he intones and she pouts at him again. "I never cared to be told what to do either, but as I grew older I learned to do my duty." He holds up a finger now and slowly lowers it to point it at her. "You will learn the same. You are the high-born daughter of a lord of the North and a child of House Umber, and you are the granddaughter of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell…and you will respect your lady mother, and learn to be a lady yourself. You will do as she and Berena tell you. I will always love you, Serena; but you must make me proud of you as well." He smiles fondly at her. "I know my little Umber girl can make me proud. Now finish eating your biscuit, and then go back to the nursery."
Serena stares at her father steadily, and Sansa can see that she is testing them. When she begins to slowly chew her biscuit, Sansa knows that her husband has won her over. Serena slides down from her chair and goes to kiss her father's cheek.
"That's my good girl, Serena. Always remember that your Da loves you. But your Da also asks one thing of you: always respect your mother…because I love her too."
"Da loves Mama best?" she asks secretly in a whisper.
The Greatjon seems to mull over her question and then leans down to answer: "Da loved your mother before you and your brother were even born, Serena. Da loved Mama first."