Author's Note: When I originally wrote this chapter, there ended up being a great big gaping plot hole that had to be corrected, and I would not have caught it if I weren't so caught up in this fic (yay for distracting obsessions). Oh, I forgot to add in the last chapter's AN that my dear friend, themysteryvanishing, totally gets to read the chapters as I finish them. In other words, she knows what happens up through chapter seven. If you're reading this chapter and you get the sense that someone, somewhere is cackling madly…that's her.

Chapter 3: In which Sansa enlists more help.

The first month was the hardest for her.

Winterfell, which had once seemed a paradise, swiftly became a prison as she secluded herself away from the world (per Margaery's plan).

"Sansa, I know it sounds awful now, but it's only for a month. You have to give Lannister and that pet spider of his time to exhaust all avenues of inquiry before they set their sights on Winterfell—"

"Wait."

"What?"

"I never told you it was Tywin."

"Please, Sansa, give me a little credit. You said 'tall and blond,' and I know you better than you think I do. Like I said, you're not the one-night stand type. You're the 'committed relationship' type."

"But how did that get you to Tywin?"

"I snooped around your workplace. You told me that you worked in Lannister's department, quite a coup for someone so young, and that got me thinking. Jaime Lannister has been off the market for years (trust me, you don't want to know the details), so that automatically disqualified him. You said 'tall,' so no Imp for you, and believe it or not, there aren't that many blond Lannisters running around the top floor. I counted three. Kevan, Genna, and the 'Great Lion,' Tywin Lannister."

Sansa wanted to point out that she probably knew more about Jaime's life than her friend could possibly begin to guess, but she was getting impatient, "Get to the point, Margaery."

"Don't be so impatient! I need a chance to show off every once in a while. I'm more than just my looks, you know."

"You're looking for praise, I take it?"

Margaery sniffed, "Well, a little awe wouldn't go amiss. It's not like Casterly hands out information like this."

Her pouting expression made Sansa roll her eyes, "I swear, by the old gods and the new, that you, Margaery Tyrell, are as brilliant as you are beautiful. Now, if you would be so kind as to tell me the rest of your scintillating tale of investigation and intrigue."

"That's better," the other girl beamed at her, "now, where was I? Oh, yes, Tywin Lannister. So, I snooped a bit more and found out that he's been using you as his exclusive PA for the last two years! You naughty girl, you never told me!"

"It was kept quiet for a reason, Margaery. Every company has its weak spots."

"And you were Lannister's. I'm impressed, actually. Grandmother and I were convinced that he had ice-water instead of blood running through his veins."

"YOU TOLD OLENNA?"

"I did more than tell her, I enlisted her. As far as allies go, she's almost as good as me (better in some ways, but she lacks my youthful vigor)."

Sansa shook her head despondently, "That's it, it's over. I'm done. This whole thing is ruined. She hates Tywin too much to keep quiet for long."

"It's precisely because she hates Tywin that she'll keep quiet. Listen, Sansa, he's going to find out."

"No, not if I—"

"Yes, he is. And when he does, you only have one option available that will keep your baby out of his hands."

"And what might that be?"

"You have to make him think that it isn't his."

A flash of pain seared through her. How could she lie to the man she loved like that? Leaving him was one thing, but this was something else entirely. "Margaery, I don't think that could do that."

"You will if you want your child to grow up to be a Stark and not a Lannister."

It hurt, but Margaery was right. She was committed to raising her child as a Stark, and to falter now was lose it all. She straightened up and lifted her chin, "You're right. Of course you're right. What do I do after Winterfell?"

"I have grandmother dropping misleading hints here and there to slow them down, but it can't last. By the time they're done with King's Landing, you'll be in High Garden. Don't worry about needing a maester, I've already contracted a midwife for you. She'll keep her mouth shut and take care of you and the baby. It will all work out for the best, Sansa, you just have to believe and persevere."

Margaery had chosen well; the midwife was as closemouthed as they came, preferring actions to words. Osha was of the North, and she knew how important it was that Sansa's presence at Winterfell be kept quiet. However, none of that stopped Sansa from being bored or restless.

Her mother was still coddling her, which kept her from doing anything more physical than laying the dishes for supper. So, Sansa made it a point to go to the godswood at least once a day, usually with a bouncy Rickon, as well as his puppy, Shaggydog.

"Sansa, you're getting fat."

There were times that Sansa regretted not being an only child, and when Rickon spoke without thought or care, she wished that she could string him up by his ears until he begged for mercy. Osha, who had tagged along with the siblings that day, must have sensed Sansa's less than charitable thoughts, "That will be enough out of you, little Stark. One more word like that and I'll teach you the ferocity of women with the back of my hand."

Rickon wisely took the woman at her word and abandoned his earlier train of thought. He kicked a few stones around, chased after a squirrel with Shaggydog then flopped down at the base of the Weirwood, waiting for Sansa and Osha to catch up. When they did, he graced them with another piece of knowledge, "Arya's going to be here tonight."

That stopped Sansa in her tracks. Gods, out of all the siblings that she had, she dreaded Arya (well, Arya's reaction to her pregnancy) the most. So far, she had faithfully held to the lie of the baby being the result of a one-night affair, but Arya knew her better than even Margaery did. Sansa would have to tell her the truth and swear her to secrecy. Arya had no love for the Lannisters, and a particular hatred for Joffrey, so she would keep her mouth shut.

And if she threatened to tell…

Sansa would at least make an honest effort to capitalize on sibling solidarity before resorting to blackmail.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Mum and dad; they were talking about it when they left."

Why hadn't they warned her? Sansa sighed, it probably hadn't occurred to them that she would like to be warned. "Sneaky eavesdropper, did you hear when she would get here?"

Rickon stuck his tongue out at her, "Not telling."

Mother save her from younger siblings! "Rickon, if you don't tell me, I'll shave Shaggydog and make him look like one of Aunt Lysa's poodles."

Her brother gasped in outrage, "That's not right, Sansa! Shaggydog never hurt you!"

Sansa growled warningly, "Rickon…"

"Fine! She'll be here half eight!"

She relaxed; that would give her enough time to prepare, "Thank you, Rickon."

He eyed her warily, gathering up Shaggydog in his arms, "Getting fat has made you mean, Sansa. I hope you get thin soon!"

She would have hit him for that, but Osha got there first.

"Ow!"

"I warned you, little Stark. You got off lucky; that was a love tap."

Rickon rubbed the sore spot on his head, glowering at the woman, "I'll put frogs in your bed."

"That's fine with me, little Stark, I like a midnight snack."

His glower was replaced with horrified fascination, "You eat them raw?"

"Legs and all."

"Awesome," he breathed out reverently.

Sansa shook her head at the two of them. "You two can stay and discuss your strange appetites, but I'm going back now."

"But we just got here!"

"I'm not telling you to come, Rickon!"

"Bossy fat lady. Ow!"

Sansa didn't wait to see if they would follow, she had more important things on her mind, like how to tell Arya that she was pregnant with the child of Tywin fucking Lannister.

"WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK, SANSA?"

"Gods' sakes, Arya, would you stop shouting? I don't want to have to strangle you, but I will if you don't stop. You know what Rickon is like. He's drawn to trouble like a fly to honey, and he doesn't have inkling of what it means to keep his mouth shut."

"Serve you right if they heard me at the Wall! This is not something that I can be calm about. You're pregnant!"

"Yes."

"With the godsdamned child of Tywin 'I Shit Gold' Lannister!"

"…Yes."

"I'll kill him."

"No!"

"Why not? He deserves it for getting you up the duff and then abandoning you."

Sansa mumbled under her breath, "Hedoesntknow."

"What?"

She cleared her throat and tried again, "He doesn't know I'm pregnant."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, I'd say that changes things."

"Yeah."

"And you don't want him to know, I take it?"

"Right."

Arya grinned like a shark, "Fantastic! Where do I come in?"