"Farewell, my lady, and, again, our true condolences to you. We know well that you made our lord and brother a happy man…it is good to know now that his last years were happy ones."

Sansa bows her head and curtseys to her good-brothers and their sons as she holds tightly to her wrapped shawl in the windy yard.

"I thank you, my lords, for all your many kindnesses, most especially for your attention to Eddard. Now that he has lost his father," she says haltingly, "it is comforting to know that he has other Umber men to guide and counsel him. Your friendship is very important to him, and so to me as well," she tells them sincerely. "I will always be grateful for it."

"He will be welcome to visit our keeps in his brother's company, my lady; and later when he comes of age."

"He should like that very much, my lords," she assures them. "His…his father taught him the importance of family."

The big men all bow their heads to her and turn to their mounts which have been brought into the yard by stable boys and grooms. Eddard runs up to her now. His cloak billows in the wind behind him and his auburn hair ruffles across his forehead and in front of his eyes. Sansa is tempted to smooth it down but refrains from doing so when he is in the company of men. He tosses his head instead.

"I will ride out with Smalljon, Mother, to visit sheep farmers and settle the grazing rights," he says importantly though Sansa knows that, at ten years of age, he will only be observing. "He says we will return before nightfall."

"Remember to respect our common folk, as your father taught you," she advises gently. "And please thank them on our behalf if they should express their condolences to you."

"I will, Mother," he tells her.

Behind him, Sansa sees both Eddard's horse and her husband's horse led into the yard. She is startled to see his mount saddled and ready as she had so many times. Her surprise must show in her face, because Eddard notices. He turns to the horse and then back to her.

"Smalljon says Father's horse needs to be exercised, Mother, and I am not big enough to ride him yet."

"O-of course…" she stammers. "That is wise, Eddard…your father's horse is accustomed to exercise."

"Ready, Eddard?" Lord Jon asks as he approaches them; he stops when he sees Sansa's face but she recovers graciously.

"You are good to take Eddard with you, Lord Jon. H-he needs a man's influence and company…more than ever now," she remarks conciliatorily.

"I am glad to do it, my lady; Eddard learns quickly, and is good company." He grasps the horse's mane as he puts his booted foot in the stirrup and swings up easily into the saddle. He takes the reins and speaks to the animal. "Come on then, let's get you out again." He turns his heels to its flanks and rides off through the gates that are still open after his uncles and cousins have departed. Eddard follows and Sansa watches them leave until she realizes that she is still standing in the yard with her shawl clutched tightly to her long after the gates have been closed . She looks around at all the activity as servants go about their tasks. She hears the hammer in the forge, and neighing from the stables and curses from the guardsmen atop the tower by the gate. She hears a large dog bark and then sees it run through the yard; shortly after another smaller dog follows, sniffing at the ground.

I could visit with Lyanna and her family; or mayhaps she would like me to check the stores or the kitchens. I can read, or sew…

The wind blows strands of her hair loose and the skirts of her gown flutter around her ankles. Sansa raises her head to see white clouds pass quickly across the blue sky.

She turns to look towards the stables again when she hear a loud whiny inside.

The wind is still pushing clouds across sky and gusting through the treetops as she turns her grey mare onto a bridle path leading into the forest. Soon she is engulfed in the shade of the sentinel pines and she closes her eyes to listen to the rustling sound of the leaves overhead and the screeches of strikes. She had yearned for the sights and sounds of the North while a hostage in King's Landing, and her years at Last Hearth have made her love them all the more and she takes what strength she can from them now, especially knowing that her husband loved the North as well.

"Are you warm enough, Serena? It is cooler here in the shade but not so very windy as when we were out in the open."

"Yes, Mama," her daughter replies hollowly. She sits astride her pony in her wool cloak, the reins slack in her small hands, as she stares vacantly and somewhat sullenly between the animal's ears. She had not wanted to ride out, or to leave her chamber even. Sansa remembered how it was to mourn her own father: how she had given herself up to darkness and despair, and so she had insisted as gently as she could that Serena should come riding with her.

"Hold your reins proper, girl, like your fa-… like you were taught," Great-uncle Hother chides her brusquely. "It's you that leads the horse, not t'other way 'round." He had insisted on accompanying them when he had seen them heading to the yard in cloaks and gloves and boots, and said that high-born women had no cause to ride out unescorted. Despite his rough manner, Sansa was quietly grateful for his attention to them.

Serena furrows her brow at his words, just like her father, but she straightens her back and picks up her reins as he has told her. Her pony tosses his head and then settles.

"We will only go as far as the glen, I promise; and then we can turn back," Sansa placates her. "The horses need to be taken out; and you have always liked riding." Before, she omits saying; but Serena does not even nod.

"I- I have been thinking, Serena," she begins again, "Lyanna will birth another babe very soon, and you no longer needs have a room so close to the nursery. I thought we might take new chambers…just us, or mayhaps Eddard will like to join us as well. You are a young lady of eight years now, and you should have a maid and not a nurse."

"Where?' Her daughter asks tentatively after a short pause.

"On the floor above, facing east, there are empty rooms that might prove suitable. We will have adjoining bedchambers, and our own solar; and there is," she lowers her voice discreetly, "a privy down the hall. Our chambers will be bright and sunny…but we can consider other rooms, if you would prefer to look out on the main yard. I want you to be happy, Serena," she tells her now.

Their mounts plod along the bridle path and Sansa mare blows air through its nostrils.

"Can Gretel come too?" Serena asks finally, and Sansa is relieved that she has shown some interest in her notion.

"Yes, my little bird, we will find a room for Gretel too."

….

"Stay-"

Sansa wakes with a start when she cries out, and then sits up in the dark and looks around her new bedchamber. After taking a quavering breath she begins to cry softly. She has dreamt before of her husband in the near-moon's turn since his passing, but this is the first time that she has dreamt that he was holding her in his arms. She closes her eyes and wraps her own slender arms around herself as she tries to remember the feel of his great warm hands in her hair and on her skin, of his lips on her lips and on her body. She presses her thighs together tightly and tries to forget the feel of his hard member moving inside of her, and she cries harder.

Gods, my love, I miss you more and more…every day and night. I did not know that it would be so very hard to live without you.

She has settled into new chambers, determined to make a life for herself devoted to her children; but she is still a young woman and her mind and body want her husband. She feels that it has been a lifetime since she has been kissed and she wants to feel his body next to hers. She wants to feel loved, and desired, and that she is beautiful. She wants to share her joys and her concerns, and to be comforted and to laugh. She wants all this with him. She must be haunted by memories that make her weep helplessly; or she must forget. She is a widow. She is four-and-twenty.

Sansa turns back the furs that cover her and puts her bare feet on the hard wooden floor. Her bed is smaller than the bed she shared with her husband; the long wide frame and feather mattress would never have fit into her smaller bedchamber. Eddard sleeps in their old bed, in his new chamber on the floor below; she has told him that he would grow into it in good time. He is a big strong boy and very much an Umber.

Her daughter's chamber is across the hall. Sansa gave the adjoining chambers to Serena and Gretel, and the room next to her own is their solar. Sansa puts her feet into fur slippers and wraps a shawl around her shoulders over her bedgown and walks there now. She keeps her sewing basket and needlework by the hearth, and her harp in another corner. There is a table at which they sit when Sansa teaches the girls their letters and sums, or needlework; and they sometimes take their meals there. They join the family in their larger solar in the evenings, but most of their days are now spent here. Silent little Gretel spins and weaves with the women after midday when Serena goes to her lessons with the maester or Sansa takes her riding with Uncle Hother or Eddard and one time with Maege Mormont, who told Serena tales of the Greatjon in battle that had the unintended effect of making the girl cry with longing for her father.

In the solar Sansa pauses before the hearth to place a log atop the embers that are still glowing orange and she prods it with a brass poker until flames begin to catch and the wood begins to crackle and burn. Moonbeams slant in through the heavy leaded glass panes of the windows and cast a bluish light until the yellow firelight fills the room. Sansa lights a candle and sits at her writing desk where she withdraws a scroll from the drawer: a scroll that had arrived only two days before.

To Lady Sansa Umber, Dowager Lady of Last Hearth~

Doubtless you will have received House Tyrell's formal letter of sympathy to House Umber, but please accept my own very sincere condolences for your sad loss, Lady Sansa. I pray that it will not seem too untoward that I should address you personally, my lady, since we have never met but your late lord himself did send to me a personal message only last year when, as you know, I suffered the passing of my own lady wife. Lord Umber assured me that all pain from loss lessens with the passage of time, and he advised me to remain vigilant to the needs of my young children, saying that profound grief can unintentionally lead to neglect and estrangement. He further counselled that, like him, I might hope to find happiness again someday, as he had with you. I wished to share his kind words with you so as to offer you the same sincere and heartfelt counsel, and the same wish, my lady, that you should find someday find happiness again.

My sister Margaery and my late grandmother Lady Olenna had spoken to me of your great kindness and gentleness and of your singular beauty, my lady; and it pains me to know that you should suffer more grief than I know you already have. But if in time, mayhaps in another year or longer, you should feel that your mourning is easing sufficiently that you should give a thought to your future happiness, I would invite you to visit Highgarden with your children and your lady mother, if it please you. If we should chance to find that friendship and mutual respect then grows between us, I would propose that we consider joining our two families as one. I wish very sincerely for your happiness, my lady, even if it you should find it elsewhere. All that I ask of you, if it is not too troubling, is that you might do me the kindness of casting a motherly eye and such affection as you might deign to show to my youngest son when he comes to be Lord Umber's ward at Last Hearth. He still mourns his mother; and I would not be willing to send him so very far away had I not felt assured by my own family that he should not want for a sweet feminine presence. For this kindness, my lady, you may be assured of my devoted friendship and boundless gratitude.

Yours faithfully, Lord Willas of House Tyrell in Highgarden

His signature was underlined with a flourish and sealed with the golden rose emblem of his house. Lord Willas was not yet the Lord of Highgarden; his father still lived though his shrewd and wizened grandmother Lady Olenna, styled the Queen of Thorns, had passed without having succeeded in her intent to marry Sansa to her grandson. She wonders if he has made his offer, such as it is, of his own accord or if his father or sister Margaery has prompted him to act. She knows that he is man of good reputation, and that he needs no longer marry for alliance or heirs and so she concludes that she has no reason to doubt his sincerity.

Reaching for a clean scroll of her own, Sansa then uncaps a bottle of maester's black and resolutely dips her quill in the ink before putting it to parchment.

My Lord Willas,

I thank you most sincerely for your kind words that are not in the least untoward. In truth I am pleased and grateful that you should tell me of my late lord husband's kindness to you . That he should have offered such wise and warm words to you naturally does not surprise me but it is a wonderful comfort to know that another should have recognized and appreciated his gentle and compassionate qualities so well as I have. I loved my lord truly and so my grief is very great, I cannot deny. Lord Umber was a wonderful husband and father, and our children miss him very much. I have therefore decided that it is of great importance to me to see them raised in his family seat, as Umbers of Last Hearth, out of great respect and sincere love for his memory. My own happiness will never again be as important to me as the happiness of my lord's children, and so it is to them that I intent to devote my coming years.

I have also heard much of you, from your late lady grandmother and Lady Margaery, and your reputation as a man of honour and kindness and worth is well-known even in the North, Lord Willas. I have no doubt that you would make a lady very happy, and that you are more than deserving of sincere kindness and affection and respect. I do regret to say that I shall not, in good time, feel prepared to be that lady who should offer these heartfelt gifts to you. My heart, and all that I am, is bound to life in the North.

You ask no hardness of me to show compassion and kindness to your young son, my lord, for it shall be my pleasure to do so; and I offer you unreserved assurance that he will be well treated by all at Last Hearth. Lord Jon Umber, my good-son, and his lady wife, the Lady Lyanna of House Mormont, have recently been blessed with a second son, and they are kind parents and most loving towards my two children and my young ward, a girl from beyond the Wall. It is my hope that your son will forge a lifelong friendship with my own boy, Lord Eddard, and with the grandson of Lord Yohn Royce of Runestone. I am sorry that your son shall not have the company of his cousin when at Last Hearth but, as you certainly must know, Lord Garlan Tyrell has sent his regrets as his son has instead been commanded to serve at the court of her Grace, Queen Daenerys.

I shall treasure your offer of friendship, my lord, and forever be grateful for your kind reminiscence of my late lord husband. I sincerely hope that we should have chance to meet someday. Pray accept my reasons for why that cannot be someday soon.

With sincere respect, Lady Sansa Umber

She blots the ink with fine sand and blows it gently from the parchment before rolling it tightly and sealing it with brown wax and the stamp of House Umber. She will ask the maester to send it in the morning.

Sansa leans back and smiles sadly but tenderly. She understands now that the Greatjon left her a stipend so that she would not needs marry again in haste but instead wished for her to have the freedom to make her own choice of a worthy man; and his decree that her claim to the gold will end and revert to their children when she marries ensures that no man will want her for his own enrichment. Any man who wants her would needs want her for her own self alone.

She toys and fiddles with the sealed scroll in her hand. Willas Tyrell would seem to be just such a man; but Sansa is not ready to contemplate marriage again and she is certain that, regardless of his kind heart and excellent qualities, she will likely never wish to travel or live in the South again. Highgarden is known as a castle of great culture and learning, and the Reach is regarded as the seat of chivalry in Westeros. At one time it would have been all that she had ever wanted and more; but no longer. All Sansa wants is here in the North, and it is what she wants for her children as well.

She has decided to consider the advice of the Ladies Mormont, and to think of one day travelling to visit her own family. She still hopes to visit Arya at Karhold and to meet her twin sons and their new little brother. Lord Harrion had extended the hospitality of his father's house to Sansa and her children at any time when he sent his condolences, and Sansa is longing to see her only sister again. In time, she may take Serena back to Winterfell to visit with Robb's daughters as well as Roslin and her own lady mother. Bran will leave for Oldtown when Rickon comes of age very soon, and it may well be her last chance to see him for many years, or mayhaps ever.

After straightening her desk, she rises with a sigh. Everyone she knows is carrying on with their lives and so she must do the same. She is satisfied that she has made the right choice for herself and for her children; but she is lonely she cannot help thinking now with a pang that cuts short her breath and causes pain in her heart.

I must be strong, and make him proud. I must be strong for my…for our children.

Despite her resolve, when she returns to her bedchamber Sansa opens the great scarred wooden chest that sits in the corner behind the heavy door and reaches in for the large quilted brown woolen tunic that her husband wore when she first saw him at Last Hearth. She had meant for them to dress him in it for his vigil and burial, but found that she had not the strength to part with it. This is not the first time that she has sought the comfort of it between the hours of the bat and the nightingale. The heavy wool is worn and soft and if she presses her face to it, she can just smell the musky warmth of his skin. She curls up with it now, inhaling deeply and letting her tears gather behind her eyes. Her maid will find her with it in the morning and say nothing, and Sansa will fold it away again until the next time, until his scent has faded away forever and she must go on without another part of him. But not yet, she tells herself, not yet.

...

Lyanna sits by the window in the solar with her new babe in her arms. Berena will come to take him soon so that they may all go to the Hall for supper.

"I am so pleased that you and Serena and Gretel will be dining with us this evening, Sansa. It was been so long since we have had the pleasure of your company. I do worry that you should spend so much time alone," she says sympathetically.

"That is kind, Lyanna; but I am not alone. I have Serena and Gretel, and Eddard dines with us some evenings or comes to hear me read or sing." She smiles fondly to see the children sitting with old Hother as he tells them tales of the children of the forest, as her father and Old Nan used to do.

"My lady," Lord Jon says somberly and both Sansa and Lyanna turn to see him standing in the doorway with the maester. He is holding a scroll in his hand and looking at Sansa with a grim expression.

Dark wings, dark words, she thinks and pales. But before she can ask, the maester speaks.

"We have received a scroll from Kings Landing, my lady, from the court of Queen Daenerys Targaryen."

Sansa's heart stops beating and her throat feels like to close and choke her breath as well as her words.

"They…she asks for my daughter at court," she says shakily.

"No, my lady," Lord Jon tells her darkly, "she asks for you."