Sansa

Royal princess Arya Stark had been back in her home keep for almost three months before Sansa had broached the very sensitive subject of her future, she allowed her a spell of selfishness, a time to reacquaint and reacclimatize. Winter had come and it was beyond cold. Luckily the North had a thriving fur and timber trade and Winterfell, a hot spring to heat the walls. Sansa found more often than not she thought in terms of "the North", what was best for "The North" was best for her. She opted to broach the "Arya Problem" over a dinner of kidney puddings and root vegetables, a quiet affair with only Arya, Sansa and Sansa's body man standing guard… just in case.

Sansa had entered her father's old solar to find Arya already there, dressed in leather breeches with a grubby shirt tucked in haphazardly. She'd been out playing with Rickon and the wolves in the Godswood. Sansa in stark contrast was dressed from head to toe in grey silk, with a whit fur trim and her now customary crown. The servants brought the food and the two sisters sat in silence as they ate.

"Are you enjoying it?" Sansa asked, indicating her little sister who was currently gobbling the food down like she hadn't eaten in ten years.

"yes."

"you'd think those assassins didn't feed you sister." Sansa laughed haughtily at her own little joke.

"I've got to get some training in before sunset." Arya stated plainly.

"dancing?"

Arya couldn't help but laugh at this.

"there is something of great import we must discuss Arya"Her voice cut through the laughter and Sansa noted how her own voice sounded like her mothers.

"Is this about Jon not being our brother? Bran explained it to me… and all I can say is I don't care for it. Call him what you will, Jon Snow, Jon Stark or Jon Targaryen, he is my brother." Arya punctuated her point by spearing a carrot and waving it with finality.

"No, this isn't about Jon. And he's opted to remain a Snow for the time being. This is about you" Arya's frantic chewing halted.

"what have I done?"

"You haven't done anything; I need for you to do something though… for me." Sansa was wringing her hands. "I need you to be wed Arya."

Arya Stark had not been expecting this, not one bit. "Wed? to whom? Which absolute dunder headed knight do you intend to pack me off with? Podrick out there?" Arya pointed her fork at the Queen's man angrily and she heard him shake in his armour in response.

"Ser Podrick to you" Sansa never called him by his family's name. "and no not unless you've taken a fancy to him. You will choose who you marry, that is my gift to you. But you must choose."

"Why?" Arya moaned loudly, she thought she'd made this clear repeatedly. She was not the marrying type. She wore breeches for the sake of the gods, she liked swordplay and swilling ale.

"because I want to set you up in your own Keep, I want to ensure there are Starks in the north to keep the peace and defend the land. Bran is betrothed to the Crannogmen girl and will take her father's seat when he passes and Rickon well he's too young. I need my sister, in the North holding a keep… and the only way I can do that is if you are married!" Sansa was frustrated, she and her estranged 'husband' had written furiously on the subject. The men of the realm were already irritated that they had been conquered by two women, if the queens then started making the lords of the realm women too, well they had barely tolerated the Mormont woman and her daughters… no they would not stand for it.

"but…" Arya made to protest.

"Arya you may pick anyone, as long as he is a man and there is a slight possibility he will put a baby in your belly I do not care. Pick some old lord ready for the bone pile, you only need touch his wrinkly old cock once and be done with it. He'll die and you'll be a happy widow."

"Sansa, if the Septa could hear you now." Arya couldn't help but giggle.

"I spent a year at Castle Black with no one but wildings and crows to talk to." Sansa said in way of explanation. "You can pick anyone Arya… have you a name?"

"Anyone?" Arya cocked her head to one side. "I don't know where he is My Grace." She jibed.

"I will find your prince My Princess." Sansa shot back.

"I chose the Bastard Gendry, a smithy from the south. I don't know if he's still alive."

"I'll find him."

"You won't!" Arya folded her arms, she looked for a second like her nine-year-old self. "And If you don't I won't pick another Sansa." She looked sternly at her older sister, at her queen.

"Arya, my sweet and darling sister that his not how this game is played. You will be married; you must be married…"

"Brienne…" Arya made to interrupt with a name she had oft heard spoken, a woman with no ties and her father's keep as her own.

"Runs a very small keep and is beloved by her people, and if the letters from my husband are to be believed I gather she may not be 'on the market shelf' for much longer." Sansa smiled as she tried to placate her sister "You are the kin of the new queen Arya; you are not anonymous anymore… I need to know you are in a strong keep" she didn't mention the Dreadfort not yet. "And I need to know you have strong men surrounding you." Arya tried to interrupt again but Sansa ploughed on "I know you can fight Arya but you can't fight a rebel army singlehandedly…" she took a beat "And I need you to make babies. There is a strong chance Bran cannot and Rickon is too young, Jon is well… Jon and that leaves us… and the future of our house, of our name…" she had lost her composure "The memories of mother and father, that all can't rest on my shoulders Arya I need to know you will help." Tears welled up in her eyes, this was the first she'd shared this burden.

"But Gendry's a Bastard!" Arya only said it half-heartedly, Sansa could see her sister had been defeated by her own honour.

"So is your brother, and I'll legitimize him besides. I'm a queen and if this man is real and does marry you he will be doing a service to the realm, he'll deserve it… now chop chop my little princess, you've got swords to swing and I've a Bastard Smithy to find." Sansa could tell by the look on her little sisters face that this matter was closed and she would do her duty. Or she would run… that was always an option.