The Spring morning dawns with a clear blue sky and no wind. Sansa smiles faintly, and remembers her husband's description of Long Lake and its reflection of the sky.
I had never seen anything so clear blue, Sansa, until you slid down off your horse and looked up at me when you came to Last Hearth.
She can almost hear his voice, deep and sonorous and rumbling, speaking to her gently in their bedchamber. He had promised to take her to the lake in Summer to bathe in the waters; then he had carried her to their bed and let her touch him and please him. She smiles secretly now and feels her face flush.
"May the old gods watch over you, milady," Berena tells her now as Sansa stands waiting for a stable boy to bring her horse to her in the yard. She turns to face her friend.
"Thank you, Berena; I- " She feels her throat tighten and her eyes sting. "I cannot thank you enough, Berena," she tells her feelingly. "You have cared for me, and for my children; and you have taught me so much… Please know that I have the very highest regard for you, and will be forever grateful for all that you have done for me at Last Hearth."
"It were my pleasure to serve and help you, milady. I will pray to the gods for you to come back to us someday. Last Hearth's where you belong. You were a fine Lady Umber, and everyone here loves you for all you did for us and for the late lord. It won't be the same without you, milady," the old woman does not cry but she presses her thin lips together and Sansa knows it is because she is overwhelmed. She puts her arms around her comfortingly.
"Please watch over my children when you still can, Berena," Sansa whispers to her now. "They trust you and love you as I do; and Serena will need a woman's help to…to understand…when she grows and flowers…if…if I am not here…" Her heart wrings in her chest and very nearly cuts off her breath that she must speak of it.
Berena whispers back her assurances: "I'll look to her like she were my own, milady, because she's yours."
"And Gretel?"
"And the wildling girl as well, milady; she be part of House Umber now."
"My lady," Lord Jon calls now.
"Lord Umber," Sansa replies when she turns to him. It is the first time she has addressed him this way and he nods his acknowledgement of her courtesy. "I thank you for helping with my…preparations."
He nods again. "All has been arranged as we discussed, my lady: there is a ship sailing North now to take you to King's Landing from Karhold, and my men will escort you and Serena and the wildling girl to visit your lady sister and to return your girls to Last Hearth after you have left."
"Please remind them that my daughter has permission to stay with her aunt at Karhold for as long as she pleases; I think she and Gretel will benefit greatly from my sister Arya's company when…when I am gone," she tells him haltingly. "But she will doubtless wish to return in time: Last Hearth is their home."
The Smalljon can't help shaking his head in regret. "I wish there were some other way, my lady, but I fear I am at a loss to know what that other way could be. You are very brave to go where you are going. But never fear for your children, my lady: they are loved and shall be well looked after by all at Last Hearth." He speaks firmly and sincerely and looks her straight in her eyes and she knows that he wants her to believe him. She does. She allows herself to touch him for the first time in years by placing a gloved hand on his arm and looking straight up at him.
"I do not doubt you, Lord Jon. I promise that I will do everything I can so as to be able to see them again."
"I promise you the same, my lady," he replies and puts his hand over hers for a brief moment. "Safe journey to you, my lady," he says as he steps back now.
"Eddard," she calls to her son now, "come embrace me again."
Her son walks forward haltingly but opens his arms to her and she holds him close and breathes in the scent of his hair and the skin on his neck. "My sweet boy," she croons, "I know that you are a young man now. You have been a man ever since your father named you so when we returned from Winterfell. He was so proud of you, just as I am; and I want you to always remember that day, and what I said to you…do you remember?"
"You said that you would always be my mother," he tells her.
"Yes, Eddard, I will always be your mother…even though I am not here with you I will still be your mother. Wherever I am I will think of you, and love you, and miss you terribly…oh, you cannot know how much I shall miss you every day," she breathes longingly, "and will want to see you and talk with you." She strokes his auburn curls and looks into his face now and smiles. "You have the look of your father…despite your Tully hair that you have from me ; and you will soon grow as big and strong as he was…" she kisses his forehead briskly and stands up straight and raises his eyes to hers with her hand under his chin.
"You must stay here at Last Hearth, and greet the young men who will be wards of House Umber. They will be your friends for life: you will be like a brother to them, and they to you. This is how your father wished it to be," she reminds him. "You are the son of Lord Jon Umber, called the Greatjon, who raised you and loved you and so you must do him proud, Eddard."
"I will, Mother…I promise," he tells her and she sees his eyes shine with tears that he will not let fall, not in the yard before other men. He sets his jaw tightly instead.
"Remember now: whatever they should say about me… I will always be your mother. You must believe that."
Her son nods bravely now, and she kisses him one last time before turning to all who have gathered in the yard to see her off. She takes a deep breath now before speaking to them.
"I thank you all… for seeing me off, and for everything you have done: for making my life at Last Heath with my lord and children the happiest-" she cuts herself short now for fear that she will lose her composure. They look at her sadly: the women wring their hands helplessly, and the men look grim and troubled. They are sorry to see her leave but also angry that she has been called away from them and from her children to serve in Kings Landing, she knows. "I shall never forget you," she tells them from her heart.
"M'lady," they all murmur respectfully and curtsey and bow their heads now. Some women begin to weep and so Sansa must turn away from them.
"Serena, Gretel…are you ready?" Her daughter and her ward stand together holding hands. They look wary: Gretel had not left Last Hearth in years, since she first came to them, and Serena does not remember travelling to Winterfell and so feels that she is leaving home for the first time. "You will like my lady sister, both of you will," she encourages them now, "she is very brave and strong: a true Northerner. She has twins sons who are your cousins; and you will see her direwolf Nymeria as well."
"Permit me, my lady," the gray-bearded leader of the garrison offers his hand to help her mount her horse. As she does, her daughter and Gretel are helped into the saddles of their ponies. Lord Jon speaks again to all assembled.
"My lord father once told me that he felt very fortunate that to have had you in his life, my lady; and I am certain that I speak for all at Last Hearth when I say that we all feel the same as my late father did."
There is a chorus of ayes and firmly nodding heads, and Sansa feels the tears behind her eyes so that she cannot reply. She bows her head a moment and then gives a nod to the ginger-haired soldier who will lead them to Karhold.
"Open gates!" he shouts.
The great wooden gates open with lumbering creaks and groans and their party heads out at a walk. Sansa keeps her eyes fixed on the way ahead, and she does not permit herself to look back, even when she hears the gates shut closed behind them. They follow the path to towards the Last River, and Sansa remembers how Lord Jon had taken her riding out to show her the Umbers lands and she shuts her eyes to the memory.
Did it all start then, so long ago? Did I choose my fate then as I do now? Will it end any better, or do I take the wrong path again? Would that I could know before I begin.
She knows that her affair with her good-son was not the cause of the war with the Others, the war that took her brother and king and weakened and shortened the life of her Greatjon and left her without protection, but she does blame her behavior for what she still feels is the greatest loss of her life.
Had I not feel when I left the North tower, I may have had more children with my lord.
Sansa has never confessed to anyone, not even to Berena, that her continuing interest in midwifery was largely born of her desire to understand if she could possibly conceive again or if she were truly barren; but she had only learned that her condition could not be decisively proven, and so she could not even claim to be infertile if the queen sought to betroth her to her kinsman and councilor, Prince Oberyn, or worse, to Lord Tyrion Lannister. She could only hope that failing to quicken again after nigh six years would give any suitor pause to reconsider her as a potential wife; but even then she could be wed instead to a widower who had heirs already, a man such as Lord Willas…or a man like Walder Frey.
The Frey patriarch had sought to ingratiate himself to the new queen when Robb had died and his daughter Roslin had lost her own title of Queen in the North. He had offered many of his sons and daughters to the Targaryen girl at court, both for marriages and as wards to noble houses. His eighth wife had died in childbed, and so to take and ninth wife: a high-born Stark, young and pretty, with no risk of adding to his already prodigious brood of offspring could be a desirable match for him…and one that makes Sansa's skin crawl so badly that she shudders violently and needs to shift in her saddle and steady her mare.
"Are you cold, milady?" A soldier asks her now. "Little matter though, what: you'll be warm enough down South," he jests.
The ginger-haired soldier glances sharply at him, and then nods reassuringly to Sansa. He had been outspokenly offended on her behalf that she should have been called to Kings Landing. Ever loyal to the Umbers, he felt the Greatjon's loss of two sons beyond the Wall more than paid his family's debt of fealty to the new queen.
"Takin' a widow and mother from 'er young'uns: that'll lose her fealty in th'North, iffen ye were t'ask me," he had grumbled and the older garrison leader had shushed him:
"Mind wha' ye say where ye can be heard, boy: we dunno who's spyin' fer th'dragon queen or her spider. Not all mens be loyal; not when there's coin t'be had."
The fine weather holds for the whole of their trip and their progress is steady, but with two young girls on ponies it takes more than a sennight to reach Karhold. Arya and her family welcome them all warmly and they enjoy a fortnight together getting re-acquainted. Sansa is delighted with her twin nephews: Rickard and Robb, and Serena and Gretel explore and play in the unfamiliar castle when torrential Spring rains set in for five straight days and nights. But it is the dark cloud of Sansa's eventual departure that hangs over all of them, and the Karstarks are clearly uncomfortable and even somewhat disapproving that Sansa has firmly made up her mind about her plans.
"Why did you not let Lord Jon or Bran petition Daenerys on your behalf, Sansa? You're a Stark and an Umber, and you belong in the North."
"That is likely to be the very reason that she wants me at court, Arya; and therefore she will be unlikely to cede to any request for reconsideration. If I go to then I make it unequivocal that she has rights to command those in the North as her subjects as surely as those from any other region in Westeros, and therefore no other Northern lord will feel that he may refuse her orders, even for good reason. And if I defy her command, then I give her and her council reason to brand the Northerners rebels against the throne, so she may then feel justified in demanding more concessions under threat of attack, by her armies and her dragons."
"Then she is as much a bitch as Cersei ever was," Arya snaps angrily and Nymeria, lying at her feet, raises her great head with alertness.
"But do you not see that this would endanger all of us: not just the Umbers but the Starks and their title of warden and mayhaps even our claim to Winterfell if small council should seek to install another, more loyal house in our stead."
"Then it would mean war: the North will never accept another house in Winterfell!"
"And if she burns Winterfell to the ground with her dragons?" Sansa shakes her head. "I will not be responsible for bringing such wroth on Winterfell, or the North." She sighs now and smiles wryly to see her sister's stubborn expression. "You are so fierce, Arya; I wonder if having Lady with me all these years might have made me stronger…"
"You are strong as well, Sansa. It was your notion to take Theon's head and that of his bastard friend: the she-wolves of Winterfell, remember? Don't let them take that from you."
"Though they would seemingly take everything else from me," Sansa mourns sadly and then turns toward the shuttered window. "I think the rain has stopped."
….
That night it is Sansa and not a maid who readies her girls for bed. She helps to wash their hands and faces, and to rinse their teeth and to don their bedgowns. Then she unplaits their braids and brushes their hair: first little Gretel, and then her little bird daughter, Serena.
"My mother would brush my hair when I was a girl," she tells her fondly. "Yours is as thick and soft and shiny, but you have your father's brown hair… You are like him in other ways, Serena: you have his unguarded and generous heart. Will you promise me to watch over Gretel when I am gone? Your father and I promised the wildling Tormund that we would keep her safe, and when she choose to stay with us as our ward we have seen to it that she has been treated as one of our own. I want you to always remember that she lives under the protection of the Umbers, and to remind anyone that would treat her different. "
"I promise, Mama. I will keep Gretel safe with me, and so will Eddard and Smalljon and Lyanna."
Sansa takes her daughter's sweet face in her hands and smiles proudly. "I know you will: you are your father's little Umber girl. Gods be good, how he loved you, my little bird; and he cared for you, Gretel. I hope that you know that," she tells her and the little girl nods obediently. "Good. Come sit with me now," she tells them and they curl up on the bed together with Sansa between them and she wraps her slender arms around her girls.
"My sweet, lovely girls…when you wake tomorrow, I shall be gone," she tells them softly, "not because I want to leave, but because I must. It will be safer for you if I am gone; but know that I will think of you every day and love you with all my heart even when I am not with you. I pray that knowing you are loved will give you strength and comfort. I am so proud of both of you," she squeezes them tight and then kisses each of them on top of their head. "Sleep now and I will sing for you."
As Sansa begins to sing softly, she can hear her girls sniffle and feels them hold her tighter. She shuts her eyes and lets her own tears fall though she continues to sign until they are asleep. When she is finished shedding her own tears, she slips away quietly and shuts the door gently behind her before returning to her own chamber. Arya waits there for her.
"A man from our garrison returned after supper: Harrion says the ship has almost reached the coast. They will be waiting for you to arrive within a day or two."
"Will he dispatch a soldier to bring them the message, or will he bring it himself?"
"He will likely send a soldier from the garrison; unless you want to send one of Umber men. That young red-haired soldier seems very loyal to you: he was a good choice to bring you here…he might be the best one to deliver the news to the ship's captain," Arya ventures.
Sansa nods after a moment. "Yes, but with a Karstark man to escort him as well. I think it would be best if both houses be represented."
The castle is still at this hour and Sansa's chamber is so quiet that the flickering of the candle flame can be heard as Arya stares at her for a long time. "I wish you did not feel that you need to do this, Sansa."
Sansa sighs heavily: she has thought her situation over repeatedly and concluded that she has no better choice but the one she is making.
"It is the only way, Arya. I…I cannot bring myself to return to court, to Kings Landing. I would rather die. And I will not marry another man for alliance or duty; I was fortunate once, but I may not be so fortunate again; and I simply could not bear it. Do you know what Cersei once told me? That love was poison, a sweet poison but that it would kill me all the same. I think…I think that having known love as I have, with my husband and my children, the loss of it and the sadness of not having it anymore is the poisonous part: the rest of your life seems like endless, interminable sadness without it…it eats away at you until you are dead inside. That is how it poisons you, and that is how it kills you."
She raises her eyes to look at her sister and they say nothing for some moments. Then Sansa rises and walks to the dressing table and opens a drawer to retrieve a bottle that she has hidden there. She looks at the dark glass bottle and then pulls the cork that stoppers it.
"Will you help me, Arya?"
Arya stands and walks to her and takes her free hand and squeezes it tightly.
"Of course I will, Sansa…valar morghulis," she intones seriously.
"Yes, valar morghulis."