Melisandre isn't seducing Sansa, calm down. Rh'llor is a bit of a wild card for me, since a lot of its beliefs and aspirations are a mystery for me- I've only got what I've researched and seen in the show. I don't even know if it's a evil or misunderstood religion, but do I find Melisandre a chore to write about. Since I don't know if I'm writing for a villainess or a woman that's part of cult, this woman has been wrong before and she could be wrong all over again. Originally this story was simply about Sansa and Jon dealing with marriage- and I can imagine there are a few stories out there that have such a premise. The original draft didn't have any Davos or a Melisandre, I can imagine some stories that did would put them in an alternative universe. Let's not forget this story is very much in the show universe- and so made sense that Sansa and Jon would have gone to Winterfell with Davos and Melisandre. And of course game of thrones is thick with subplots, and my story is busy. Sorry to those whom hate the red witch- and want her to back off, I hate the red witch too (She killed my Shireen). The red witch as you might have noticed isn't in the first 3 chapters because she eats away into chapters like acid.

While Jon hit men with sticks, Sansa walked the castle inspecting the damaged rooms. When she heard high heeled boots clomping into her turf, she would hide. The witch would search for her, Sansa had become good at hiding, at least she thought she had, it was that, or the witch wasn't good at finding things. She couldn't even find the prince that was promised the first time around. In the evenings the Queen didn't know where the red woman went. If Jon was any less than an honourable man, he probably would have taken the witch as a mistress, to starve off boredom. The Queen was certain she was boring, hence why Jon never bothered her in the day or sort her council. Sansa saw Melisandre crossing the courtyard outside her window, she was on her way to her, and Sansa couldn't be bothered to hide. Damn.

But what to tell her. Her husband had kept his distance for about 3 days, sleeping in the other room. He reassured her it was an old custom; thou shalt not lay with a woman who bleeds. She thought it was something to do with the smell. But he didn't stick to the regime long, Jon was soon back in their bed, his hands creeping to her side of the bed. Sansa had accidentally sat on his hand once and they both apologized simultaneously. Luckily she had her layers of thick cotton to catch her bleeds.

Her dreams during her flowering were saturated with the darkness, and young Jon. When the boy wasn't crying in the forest, he was trying to entice her wolf form into wrestling with him. "Come 'ere!" He would paw at the air and crawl on the floor in front of her growling, and she would watch his theatrics non-plus. On the third night of her dreaming this behaviour, she went for his foot playfully.

"Aha...you couldn't resist!" And the little boy began to play hit her around the head. She growled and grizzled as he motioned towards her paws, teasing her, she would mouth at his hands and arms."Come on guurl...come on! Let's be having yer!" He then yanked her tail, and she snapped at him, her canines caught his flesh. "Ow!" Jon snared his hand away. Sansa felt terrible and she began to lick it profusely in apology. His blood for some reason tasted hot, it burned like pitch, but there was a lemony after taste. She pounced on him and knocked him to the ground, he yelped, and she licked his face- he tasted like lemon cake, he began to laugh. "Bloody hell...enough enough!"

'His blood for some reason tasted hot, it burned like pitch, but there was a lemony after taste. She pounced on him'

She wrote avidly in her journal, her dreams would make a good read, she just needed to change the names. Sansa had considered ending the chapter on the boy being eaten by lady the wolf.

KNOCK KNOCK

"My Queen, it is I, lady Melisandre." She was in the hall outside already poised to come in.

"What it is?" The insufferable little- "Come in."

It was time for another 2 hour chat. A talk that was counter-productive. She was sure Melisandre was just milking her for information. If she talked about Jon with her, she probably talked about her with Jon. Melisandre liked the lounger, or the window seat, she believed it was so the witch could watch out for Jon, or Davos. Their conversations concerned the two, and the Queen got the impression, gradually and through squinting- Melisandre liked Davos more than she let on.

"Why don't you go and seduce him?" Sansa stared at the page she had been filling with notes, replaying the suggestion over and over again, the witch was quiet. "A joke, forgive me." The subject was of course changed by the older woman, but there was an odd vibe, that thickened the air and made Sansa cough. She pretended she was writing a colourful verse in her journal. "Keep talking... I am listening." Scribble scribble scribble.

"You have bled heavily for about 6 days, or you sure something is not wrong, your grace?"

"I've always had a heavy flow." Sansa said cagily, shifting on her cotton. "Painful, and messy, I have resorted to cleaning 3 times a day." Scribble scribble scribble. "A natural man repellent." She wasn't supposed to say that outloud.

The red priestess's lip curled. "Did it stop Ramsay?"

Sansa's quill cracked against the parchment, her face twitched to contain her venom."Yes." She got a new quill, and didn't pass a verdict on the witch's spite. "I've always had a heavy flow." She repeated.

"But normally by now you would have dried up."

Sansa didn't know what to say, what was she getting at? She shrugged. "Maybe my body is purging itself, despite the flowering being dirty- I feel quite clean, cleaner than ever." Sansa was honest, she had nothing to hide, nothing to lie about. "Do you bleed, my lady, if you pardon me speaking?"

"No, your grace." Melisandre's lip twitched at the Queen's startled appearance. "My body stopped bleeding quite some time ago, the lord of light prefers me that way."

"But how will you carry?"

"I have managed just fine in the past."

Sansa gaped. "You have children?" Sansa never saw Melisandre as a mother, feeding from her breast then weaning, or disciplining them. Well she could imagine the punishment.

"My...children." The witch began with a little cockiness. "Were born from ideas, motivations of the person I was serving, spawn of the lord of light." The witch was vague, which suggested all 'children' weren't her problem anymore, Sansa lowered her gaze nervously. "You look frightened by this, birthing is a ritual in the middle of a lifelong ceremony, children don't have to be of flesh and bone, one's that aren't...can never die, for they have never lived."

Yikes. Sansa pricked her finger on her quill edge, but disguised it well. "But you said you could give my husband a son...or were you speaking of me...when you were...me." She had trouble making eye contact with the violet eyed woman, she would pick Sansa's brains if she did. "Can you birth...dragons?"

"I can give a gift from the lord of light, I doubt I could birth a dragon, your grace." Sansa was disappointed. "But you can provide the King with a prince of flesh and bone...and blood." Melisandre saw the blood on Sansa's finger and moved to sit next to the younger woman.

"Well, I'm losing enough of it, a bit more won't hurt." Sansa joked, spying Melisandre fascination with her finger. No sooner had the blood droplet formed, the witch had picked up the unruly digit and put it in her mouth. Disgusting! "Melisandre!" She could hear the tone she had as a child, and she thought of when she used to reprimand her unruly sister.

The red woman retracted it from her mouth, so as not to miss a drop. "Forgive me, your grace, I don't like any to go to waste." Terrible excuse, she supposed the woman was collecting her swabs aswell! Melisandre then pressed the finger into her dress sleeve.

She would probably throw that bit of fabric in the fire to receive a vision. "What can you get from tasting it?" Essence of lemon...pitch?

"Some with the sight, get visions."

"Do you..?"

"No."

Sansa was sure she was lying. "Then what was the point?" She said suspiciously, and the witch had the audacity to look certain and confidence with her next question.

"How did it make you feel, your grace?"

Sansa blinked, then glanced at her moist finger. "It hurt." She said with tinge of confusion.

"The prick?- No, I meant when I put it in my mouth, child."

So condescending, how can she allow this woman the time of day? She returned a shrewd look. "I was surprised, that was...against etiquette."

"But you weren't anxious about it...hmm...you're getting better." Melisandre was patting herself on the back. Not literally, of course.

Sansa felt a surge, she wasn't sure what it was- most likely pride, but of course, she didn't understand why. "So I'm getting used to people doing things to me." Maybe she was over her trauma? "And becoming subservient is the key to...being Queen?" That didn't sound right, surely she should have some power over everyone.

Melisandre was touching her cheek, trying to get her attention. "When you're consort, you have to get used to being second place in everything."

"You will act the fool to make them happy." Sansa quoted Cersei, feeling even more depressed- she was turning into her, she was even sharing a bed with her 'sibling.' She caught the witch shaking her head. "What?"

"I doubt he is your sibling, and you weren't that close. Get over it, once you do that, then you can take that first tiny step, of intimacy." Melisandre was handing her wine, again. "Then the final step depends on whether either of you can perform." Sansa held the wine in her mitts, uselessly. The witch started again-"Though I'm starting to think..."

"Yes..?"

Melisandre poured herself some wine. "When we burnt that wolf pelt the other day." She swished the wine in the goblet. "I think we gave a gift to the lord of light, he has obviously awarded you time...through your flowering, and of course Jon's problem-." The red woman grimaced with a click. "Impotence, it seems the lord of light might be telling us something." The witch looked smug, perhaps the whole impotence thing made her feel better because it was an excuse for her failed seduction.

Sansa read into that theory first, before considering her own."He doesn't want us to bed?- Or...maybe he doesn't want Jon being with anyone? Why would the lord of light effect us both with an affliction- you only need one affliction." Sansa set the wine down. This was serious...for Jon. "You should tell Jon this."

Melisandre laughed. "My Queen, telling a man something like that is a death sentence. We tell no one."