Edit; first off, very depressed- HODOR HODOR HODOR. And second of all Sansa lied to Jon in 6x05, I know I've had her hold back truths in this story. But I'm concerned Sansa in the series will become the next big bad, with her lying and manipulation. DAMN YOU PETYR! You ruined her. I don't want Sansa to betray Jon.

She found herself in darkness, a cold windy darkness that violated her senses, and filled her soul with fear. Sansa yelled loudly to see how far the darkness went, it echoed, then got lost. The place she was, was huge. She walked steadily with her hands in front of her, feeling out for obstructions, walls, doors, or people, anything. She didn't want to be alone. Then, a low reverberating growl rung to her left. She looked with a gasp. Lady. She saw her direwolf, she glowed with moonlight, but there was no moon. Lady was never the one to growl, she was the gentlest of all the direwolves. "Lady." She said sweetly, and the wolf hid its teeth and crept to her, its face became kind and sort her for affection. Sansa stroked it, it was just how she remembered, and the smell- she smelt like earth and occasionally of perfume, one she would apply herself."Thank the gods I have you." She combed her fur with her fingers. "I missed you."

"My wife must be getting lonely."

Her head snapped up, panic set in. That was Ramsay's voice echoing in the gloom. Her mind unfogged, the darkness began to recede. And she ran to the opposite side of the void to get away from the voice. If Ramsay was there, her wolf might protect her. But then she remembered. Lady was dead. And all of a sudden her direwolf faded away, but she could still smell her. She was not gone. She sniffed in hopes of tracing her path, finding her dead friend again. Sansa wandered to the outskirts of the place she was, the borders were dark, but she went into them regardless. Lady? She had no voice, nothing came out- but a whine. That's when she realised she hadn't been walking...she had been trotting, and she didn't have two legs, she had four. I'm a wolf? The good thing was that when she concentrated she could see through the darkness. There were silhouettes of trees, and nothing more.

Until she strained her ears, something was in distress, it was sniffling, as if stifling a sob. She trotted into the darkness and through the trees, until she spotted a dark shape on the floor in a clearing, and soon as she was within 10ft of it, she knew it was a boy. He was curled up, trying to keep warm, crying into the dirt. She approached his back with caution, but she had caught his scent further back. Leather and Musk. Jon? It came out as a sympathetic whine. He lurched forward in surprise. Oh lord. He opened up from his curled up position to turn to her, wiping his nose on his sleeve, and she realised he was very young. A very young Jon, too young for her to know him, she would have just been a toddler.

He looked at her, startled by her presence. "Lady?"

Oh yes she was still a wolf, and her own wolf. But she couldn't understand how he knew of lady, her direwolf wasn't around when he was this age. Before she had time to comprehend everything else in this bizarre world. The boy hugged her, put his arms around her furry head and squeezed. "I died too." He mumbled into her fluff, and it chilled her to the paws. "You smell nice." They were disturbed by the howling and barking of hounds, and they found themselves fleeing together back through the trees. His little legs weren't fast, and she covered a lot of ground. "Wait for me."

So she slowed for him to catch up. Come on, hurry!

She awoke then, in her bed, cold, and to the sound of her maid bustling around her. Sansa rolled her head towards the girl that smouldered at her. "My Queen, this shall be an eventful day."

"What do you know?" Sansa narrowed her eyes.

The seven Hells would break loose that day. And it wasn't anything to do with her. Her husband's council meeting had been interrupted with a ruckus of men scrambling to the battlements. Someone was coming, and it wasn't winter.

Agnes had been with the Queen that morning making small talk while sewing. She asked her things that she couldn't have known unless she had been there the night before. Maybe she was disguised as the hairbrush. Soon as the mayhem had started, Agnes fell out of character and dismissed herself, whisking herself away to her King. Well, that's where she figured the witch would go. Sansa wasn't about to barricade herself in her quarters, but she did send her remaining handmaidens to buckle down in the master chambers. She encouraged them to sing mother's mercy and scurried down the main hall, the King wasn't there, he was where he should be, outside. The atmosphere was similar to the pre-seige of Winterfell, or battle of the bastards as the small folk called it. But Ramsay was long gone, who was coming? The Lannisters were weeks away. Could it be...the monsters?

The Queen made her way out, she encountered Sam on her travels- he was pacing. "Lord Tarly, why are you in here?"

"Your grace, am I to stop you going out there, the King's orders." Sam was furtive, avoiding her eye.

"Not even in the courtyard?"

"Nope."

"I'm not going to wait for a conclusion." Sansa fumed, flapping her skirts. "Are you going to force me back, Sam?!"

"Your grace-" He bumbled to the door, Sansa was already there pushing it open. "Please, I know I'm not a good warrior, but at least allow me to be a good guard. You're no good to him out there."

She wasn't good to him anywhere. Sansa saw people assembling all kinds of apparatus, soldiers jogging past, and the yelling of commands. "It hasn't started already?"

Sam had her arm. "Please, your grace." She spied banners going up.

"Who is coming?"

Sam was biting into his lip. "I wouldn't worry, they'll probably just pass by us." Sansa crossed the threshold, dragging the man with her- he was still holding her sleeve. "Your grace, your grace!" He'd soon run out of breath and give up. She saw further commotion, a lot of panic, even the free folk had wandered into the castle grounds.

She reached a wooden stair to the battlements, and dashed up them as if her life depended on it, she stumbled on the last stair- and clambered onto the stone wall. Sansa spied red hair and knew that was the fierce wilding man. The Queen walked the full circuit to get to him, and as she got closer- her husband was revealed to her, he was shorter than this man so he had been obscured. But seeing him made her spirits lift, even if it was going to be short-lived. The wilding saw her first, he mumbled something and Jon's head snapped around to look at her, she gave him a sombre smile.

He came at her like thunder. "No no no." He said to scald her, as his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "You can't put yourself up 'ere with me, get back down below." He pointed to the stairs quite abruptly, before softening. "Sweetheart you can't put yourself in harm's way." Her husband sort her sleeve, and for a second she wished her arm had been bare.

"I know, but I'd rather be out here." She saw something in the corner of her vision, and she turned to it. "What-" Jon had reached for her face, probably to say something endearing, and it hindered her from looking at what was coming.

"I need y-"

"-IT'S HERE!" Tormund squawked.

"Get down the stairs now!" Jon suddenly lurched, all the men yelled, all seemingly dropping in the same direction. Sansa found herself looking at something looming large, Jon pulled her down to the stones, she let out a yelp of surprise, even before she had time to recognise it. "Stay down!"

Sansa gaped as a large shadow flew over them, she felt droplets of water fall from it. Impossible ."That's a dragon!" Her voice was surprisingly calmer than it should be, but her eyes prickled with tears. "Did the witch...?" Sansa scanned the area, including the ground outside the castle.

Jon was panting, getting up, he was confounded by her lack of terror. "I doubt she could conjure something like that." He steered her to the stairs. "Get down now, or I'll put you in chains."

"If I get in the castle, I'll get roasted- don't you remember Harrenhaal!" The Queen exclaimed over the battle cries of men. Jon got quite physical with her, he was on the verge of picking her up and throwing her down the stairs.

"Get down below now!"

"It's just scoping us!" Sansa shook him off. "Look!" She pointed at it ferociously, and Jon immediately followed her direction and studied the sky, the dragon did another dip turn and suddenly started flying east of them.

"It'll be back." He huffed, his breath still not entirely back. The rest of the men looked equally relieved. "It belongs to someone."

"Or no one, but sure...it'll be back." Sansa tried, she tugged at her sleeve that had hooked up to his sword. "There are dragons in some of my stories, when people aren't riding them, they hunt." A thread pulled. "Damn."

Jon simply snapped the thread. "If you knew that, then why would you stick around?" He said gruffly.

"I don't know, I just..." It was like she didn't care. "He didn't grab any of us." Sansa shrugged, her fictional stories were very vague, the authors probably didn't have a clue about dragons. "I'm not sure they'd attack a strong hold unless they had a rider. I don't see anybody about that could..." She noted Jon staring after the dragon. "-Keep one of those things." She then looked at its disappearing form, hard and unyielding, large but graceful. "That'll certainly scare the southerners."

Jon grimaced. "Well it certainly scares me." His lips spilt with a smile. "Maybe if it comes back I'll tame it."

"It was going east, out to sea maybe?" Tormund had joined the conversation.

"I did smell and taste sea water when it came over us." Sansa retorted, her coat felt damper than she thought- "Perhaps it came from that way, now it's going back."

The red bearded man was still marvelling the skies from which it came. "A magnificent beast..." His grin suddenly became suggestive. "Something I wouldn't mind getting inside of."

"Ssh." Jon hissed.

"I could have meant warging?"

"But you didn't mean that." The King caught his smile, it was contagious. "And you don't warg."

Sansa was still far away in the clouds to mention her ignorance on a word like 'warging'. "If I wasn't nervous of heights I'd gladly ride it." She heard a deep chuckle, but from whom? She shot a look at both. "The worst thing that thing could do to me is burn me, nothing more."

She saw Jon's smile fade, he read into the comment. But Sansa believed he read it as stupidity, more than a willingness to die.

Sansa shook away the darkness that encroached her mind. "Maybe he was looking for a rider?" She wanted to chase away all his anxieties

"Nah... it was just being nosy." Her King's demeanour became of tower of strength. Perhaps it was because the danger had come and gone, or was it her presence? "Keep the men up here to watch the skies, Tormund go make sure none of your folk have been taken."

"You'd better do the same with yours." The bearded man then took off down the stairs, he bound off like some kind of monkey from the far east, leaving the Queen watching her husband pensively.

"We were lucky, too lucky, maybe Melisandre is onto something..."

Jon listened to her. "Hm."

"She can sense King's blood, the lord of light is her guide, perhaps the fire dragon can sense your King's blood." Maybe they weren't siblings after all. But considering what Jon had done, he didn't seem to care. "Targaryen blood."

"Then why didn't he land?"

Sansa shrugged. "I don't know everything."

Her husband sure found that funny. "And I know nothing, apparently." She frowned at this.

Davos burst the bubble. "Agnes is missing." He had run up the stairs at a young man's pace. "Podrick has just informed me." He saw his king and Queen share a look. "I've asked Podrick to double check, he was with the women folk, and said he thought he'd seen her go into the crypts...and vanish."

The Queen finally went down below back onto the ground, to check for herself. Jon lingered with Davos. "Has my wife mentioned anything to you about Agnes?"

"Does she find her rude...?"

The King had noticed this himself. "She claims it's Melisandre." Jon had his hand wrapped around his sword handle, as if he was on the verge of drawing it."I believe her, but I want to know is, have you any evidence?"

Davos was gobsmacked, he shook his head. "I have nothing, but...she doesn't exactly follow procedure. I didn't think Melisandre would leave your service so easily."

Jon huffed and stormed past. "Well that settles it then, if she is going to use trickery to deceive us, she'll have to go." His advisor followed, trying to keep at Jon's pace.

"Your grace, though I'm not fond of the woman, after all... she did burn Princess Shireen..."

"-Are you building to a point that'll convince me to trust her?" He was tired of pussyfooting about.

"She did bring you back from the other side, your grace." The was the only reason she still lived.

"The lord of light brought be back, and she is a messenger...she's told me all this. I thanked her, then I dismissed her, I can't trust a witch. She has so much influence, and sorcery makes me uncomfortable."

Davos ambled towards him with intent."You know what makes me uncomfortable?..."

Jon's ears perked up.

"White walkers." Davos said with a grave but enlightening voice. "I like to get behind power, if it puts something between me and them. "

"How about a dragon?" There was a childlike gleam in Jon's eye. "That's a good barrier, and there's fire power too."

"One thing at a time, ey?" His advisor concluded.

Jon gave several more orders around the castle grounds. Some squire had tipped up a barrel of arrows in the panic earlier and they had all scattered across the churned up mud. "Sort this out, lad." One broke under his foot. "That's a fucking waste." He rumbled before disappearing into the great hall. He saw ladies dithering by the tables, they curtsied upon his approach. His eyes roved to each of their faces, none were Agnes and most importantly, none were Sansa. His cape swished as he turned promptly to exit the hall and proceed to the crypts.

Sansa examined the crypts, and looked for any signs of damage to the statues. The feather had fallen from Lyanna's hand again, so she returned it. There.

"You like being down here."

What the seven hells? Sansa jumped an inch, and turned towards the feminine voice. "You shouldn't come down here, this is strictly off limits to servants and small folk."

Melisandre cocked a brow at her. "I'm a lady, my queen, and anyone should be allowed to pay their respects." She closed in on her, with a dark gleam in her eyes. "I sense a great power down here, it drew me down to the depths of these crypts."

"And there was me thinking you were hiding from the dragon." Sansa had really expected Melisandre to be performing some ritual, probably to bring all of the dead back. How frightening,and yet... if only she knew where her mother and brother's bodies were. But that was unthinkable. A tear leaked from her eye, and the witch swooped in to catch it.

"My child, don't cry for those that have passed, cry for the living that will suffer if we don't succeed with our mission." A hand touched her cheek, and Sansa jarred from it. "If only I could soothe you, take away your pain and suffering, your fear-"

"-Bad memories, can you wipe away bad memories?" Sansa scoffed. "You can't rewrite what is written, I would love to forget, but I'd be that ignorant little girl again if I did." She could feel a surge of anger in her bosom, one that made her sound like a retched brat. "You aren't here to help me, you are here for the King."

The red priestess dipped her head. So she finally admits it. "Do you want me to help the King?"

"It's up to the King." Though she very much wanted her opinion counted. "But he doesn't like deception."

"Then why has it taken you so long to report me?" The witch chimed. "If you wanted to stop me, stop me."

How was Sansa supposed to do that?- She couldn't pick a fight with a witch and expect to win. "I did report you, he knows about you."

"After how long...?" Melisandre was angling for something. What was she getting at? "You tell him everything?"

"Everything?" The queen was irked, since when had she herself been deceitful? – This had to be a trick, transferring some guilt onto her. Sansa composed herself, smiling with dignity."What else was there to tell?"

Melisandre smiled, a slow and calculating one. "About everything we discussed."

Seduction, Heirs, and- Her King had bled for her on the battlefield, why couldn't she bleed for him birthing a child?

"-Why do you do that?" She heard the witch say suddenly.

"-What?"

The red woman tipped her head, analysing her with that exotic face of hers. "Your inner voice is very loud, it's deafening. You talk a lot in your head, you never stop- constantly thinking, it must hurt. Those festering anxieties."

This scared her, just as much as Joffrey and Ramsay- Someone who could read one's mind. Sansa pretended to be unfazed. "Everybody thinks, you can't expect me to speak every little thing on my mind!- It would be jibberish!"

"You should try doing it more." She crooned, toying with the girl's hair. "Just reflect on the times you did, and how rewarding it felt."

Sansa watched warily as the lady's finger coiled her hair. "If I speak my mind, I'll see my own head roll."

Melisandre gave a single nasal huff of a laugh. "You're sweet."

Sansa actually cussed at her, it was unrepeatable and she hated herself for it. "How's that for sweet?" She wasn't going to storm out of her own crypts, she would gladly wait it out until the witch left before she could desecrate sacred ground. "Did you find what you were looking for down here?" She folded her arms, knowing fully well she hadn't.

"There is strength here, I'll find it. But this is the best place for reflection, don't you think?" Melisandre gestured at the darkness, and she seemingly lit a candle with her finger, Sansa backed away a little. "Don't be afraid of the light, come feel it's warmth, be comforted by this..."

Sansa looked at the tombs, she couldn't see much comfort, but she could see herself coming down here more often to reflect and escape court. "It's a little cosy, in a creepy dank sort of way." She had spend too much time with Tyrion.

"Now let me unburden you." Melisandre moved into her personal space. "Let me help you."

"Excuse me?" That sounded like sorcery. Sansa reversed into a tomb. "How's that?..." The witch kissed her, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Away away away. There was a surge of energy, it was awful and she didn't feed off it. It wanted to feed off her, but she felt her will push at it. It tried to invade her, but it could not, nothing could penetrate her.