This is my favourite chapter so far. Inform me of any spelling errors, they're hard to spot. I've just edited it- 10.31pm uk time.

Sansa had problems with her story. It was full of wolf dreams and no plot, so far it was a collection of drabbles. She started reading through books that weren't in her hope chest, ones she had to hunt for in Winterfell. She used the small library to do a few rewrites of her chapters, and to add substance to the monstrosity of her book. Podrick had delivered her bread and plenty of wine, and he sat with her for approximately an hour, he spoke about the panic in the villages over the dragon, it had come back, but this time had gone further north, in fact castle black had had a close encounter. "It's looking for someone, mark my words." Sansa jabbed with her quill.

"I will, your grace."

"Not literally, Pod." She smiled at the fool, before looking at her notes. "Why are you here?"

"I'm just checking your progress." He leant slightly, she had to draw the line when he started reading her stories.

"It's not finished, Pod, you would be taking it out of context."

"I understand this perfectly, your grace, it's very good, you have a talent-"

"Please stop...with the flattery." The quill went back into the ink well. "Squires don't sit with Queens, what happened to your latest mission?" Why do people lurk around her?

"I haven't seen Agnes in days."

Her face was blank, then she realised she had assigned him to Agnes, but Agnes no longer existed. She rolled her eyes behind her lids. "Right, I forgot." She sighed heavily, the fog lifting away from her head. "Nevermind ey?" Ey...ey? -Queens don't say ey?- Where did that come fro- oh, Jon. Jon was broad. "Nevermind. I'm sure Jon has had you busy." Podrick looked like he was about to neat her parchments, she very nearly growled. "Podrick." He halted. "Why are you really here?"

He looked at the desk, she could see him biting the inside of his mouth. "I serve you above all else..." She was about to retort to this, but he burst. "-So I must tell you, Jon sent me to watch you." Further cheek biting. "Sorry, he just wants to know what you get up to in the day when he isn't around, your grace."

"He's pipped you." She admired his honesty. "I'm surprised he didn't send the witch."

"He doesn't like her, your grace." Podrick cut right to the point. "She puts him off." Sansa supposed it was the lady's air and looks. "She scares him to the point he thinks you two are plotting together."

"That's a very serious allegation." She ventured, flicking the quill feather. "To take Winterfell, or the throne?"

"Well...he thinks you're dabbling in the dark arts...your grace." His voice got low, he had to lean over her work. "He thinks you've cast a spell to make him...change." He emphasized the last word as if it was a sensitive crude word. But from the tone she knew what this was about and she rolled her eyes. She was surprised Jon had spoken to anybody about it, he was brave if he had- unless he simply didn't elaborate.

"Gods, he's blaming me for that."She exchanged a book from the shelf. "I suppose that's why the witch isn't in the castle?" Sansa felt she was on the verge of chuckling. "He has every right to be suspicious of the witch, not of me. I'm doing nothing to stop things...functioning." He hasn't even tried lately, thank the gods.

Podrick looked away to check the door, and he cleared his throat. What now? "Your grace, is your..." He fingered his collar. "Your...flower still? You know."

Squires were hilarious. "How forward of you-!" She said with mock indifference.

"I'm sorry-"

"-No Pod, I was joking. It's alright..." She grimaced, embarrassed by her attempt at humour, and her next reply. "I'm finished, can't you see the colour has returned to my cheeks? No more blood for another month." She scribbled her words down on the parchment for a reference for later. "I might refer to the ailment as 'the bloodening'."

Podrick merely bobbed his head in courtesy of being told something so guarded by women. Then as if he had been prodded up the backside he lurched up." Oh gods...I've just remembered... I was supposed to deliver something." He comically made a dash for the door. "Damn... excuse me, my lady- err your grace."

Clearly the Queen was consumed with her story, she didn't see him bow or leave, let alone call her lady.

Sansa spent all afternoon and evening in the library. No one came to her again- did no one read? She had made good work with the time she had, and the castle seemed to run itself without her intervention. What was the point of the mistress of the household? The main door creaked open, and interrupted her flow. Davos edged in with caution. "Ah ha."

"What can I do for you, Ser?" She asked as politely as she could allow.

"Are you aware of the hour, your grace?" He said gently, sensing her tone. "It's just..."

Sansa refused to put down her quill. "It's probably late, I'm in the middle of something. Did you wish to use this room?"

Davos was amiable, her tone was no longer intimidating him. "I wasn't kicking you out, your grace. Neither do I wish to jump in your seat. But the King is getting restless."

The Queen hadn't listened properly. "Well tell him to eat, I can't be held responsible if he neglects himself." She rubbed her temples, she felt the pangs of tiredness.

"I said restless, not listless." The advisor retorted, motioning towards the desk. He put a hand on her parchment to obstruct her writing efforts. "By the looks of it, you are also getting restless." She tried to write between his digits. "Rest, your grace."

She stared crossly at the insolent hand. "I am the Queen." As if that did anything!

"Yes you are."

It held a lot of meaning, and he wasn't being patronizing at that moment. She had been drunk on stories...and power, now she was realising her neglect. Yes, I am the Queen, I need to sleep, in order to...Queen, and write more stories. "Pardon me, Davos, I got a little carried away. I do enjoy writing... just as much as lemon cakes, it's just very frustrating when you realise your story has no structure or purpose, other than to escape." She began to stack up her parchments into a tidy pile. "I'll call it a night."

"Good idea, my Queen." Davos watched her, bemused. "Is that what you've been doing all day, your grace, escaping?" He saw her nod in a very lethargic manner, and he cast his eye to two empty drink vessels."Did you empty these two pitchers of wine all by yourself?"

Sansa screwed her eyes up. "Oh, I must have done." She rose from her seat. "It was over the course of the day, and I did eat, I didn't drink on an empty stomach, Davos." She flounced towards the door that was being held open for her. He was really trying to get rid of her.

A smile split the old gent's face. "Good good, off you go then, pet." And she did.

It took Sansa approximately 5 minutes to walk back to her chambers, and in that time she was rather pleased with herself. Confidant in fact, until she heard the sound of a wet stone on a blade- and in the bedchambers. She opened the door to the room promptly as if to scold, her husband was sitting up in bed, and he was indeed sharpening his sword. "Must you do that here?" And shirtless? Sansa realised she needed to smile, really smile, she worked her muscles and achieved a warm smile.

Jon cocked his head and regarded her pleasantly with a smile of his own."I was wondering where you'd got to?" He stopped work, his gaze floating back and forth between his work and her. "Wife."

She turned her back on him to slowly close the door, so it wouldn't slam and wake the castle. She couldn't take her eyes off the bolt as he spoke. "I was writing." She said, but didn't bolt the door, why would she need to? "It's coming along."

"Yes, Podrick told me."

It was a simple response, but it confirmed they were indeed in cahoots. Her husband must know everything. Everything. She bit the inside of her cheek. "I got a lot done today."

"You could have done all that up here." He toyed with the sword, the light reflected off it and skimmed across her gown, he watched it fascinated. "I was up 'ere earlier than usual, the room was cold." Jon sheathed his sword, and secreted it under the bed, much to Sansa's relief.

The Queen meandered across the room to get to her faithful divider, she couldn't sleep in her day clothes."I thought you had the lord of fire at your side?- Why would you be cold?" She scoffed, removing her gown, perhaps he should wear a shirt? She heard him rustling about, she had to check through the slats to make sure he wasn't sneaking up on her. He was fiddling with the underside of the bed. "I needed the library for some inspiration, I can't be kept cooped up in here." She turned away so she could arrange her night attire.

"No, I suppose not." He became still. "You could have sat out in the yard, and watched me train."

She paused as she slipped into her nightgown. "I've seen you train, I like watching you train."

"Well then."

"You're good, your standard never changes or ceases to amaze me." She pulled her dress into place, and pulled her hair through and over her shoulders. "You wouldn't spend an afternoon watching me sew."

"I have." Jon mumbled, and she scoffed again, then listened to the beautiful stillness that was Jon- she imagined his face brooding. "And I would do it again." That made her tingle.

"No you have not, and will not." Sansa walked around the partition and froze, her eyeballs nearly popped out of her head. That was big. "Oh my." Sansa had seen one bigger, but this was bigger than the average one she was used to. "What's this for?"

Jon held a plate with an oversized lemon cake on it, he was lounging, so he had to rest it on his stomach. "No reason, I just had one made..." He was smiling with his eyes, and only his eyes.

"I hope you're sharing, your grace." She pounced on the bed, nearly boinging him off. He moved about an inch off the bed, and the cake did a slight jump on the plate too, but he saved it.

"Careful!" He exclaimed amiably. "Gods woman, if this had gone all over me would you have still eaten it?!"

Sansa laughed. "It's lemon cake- it shouldn't go to waste, your grace."

The jest had been a little lost on her, for as soon as she had replied, he broke a handful off and dumped it onto his stomach.

Oh. The connotations were now clear and certain. She felt air get lodged in her throat as he probed her with those stormy eyes, daring her. Sansa could do nothing but gulp. She couldn't flee from something she had inadvertently accepted to do. It was the principle of honour she was doing this. At least that's what she'll tell herself in the aftermath. And she had to school her features, so she didn't look petrified.

"Your grace." She bobbed her head like a squire.

His poor scars were littered across his skin, that aided her next decision. She swept her hair over one side to manage it, the action gave her husband an irregular breath. Or perhaps he felt a chill? She lowered herself, bending over him, bringing her face close to his skin. Cake, she was just eating lemon cake, they were her favourite. She didn't look at him, as she nibbled a piece, it broke up immediately, distributing over a wider area. His stomach didn't move, not even to breathe. Her mouth would have to skim that lean abdomen. The Queen ate the now warm bits of cake, the icing watered and spread over unyielding muscle. Sansa latched her lips onto the skin and drew them together bringing up the crumbs, caressing the scars, kissing evidence of his battles. She was pretty sure her tongue automatically came out to taste the lemon icing, it flicked across the skin. His flesh was salty, but the cake sweet. Oh heavens. The Queen felt and saw the muscles clench around his stomach. She heard him breathe after an extended amount of time, deep and low. Oh my. It sent a pang into her core, she felt herself moisten in her secret area, she feared she had bled again. Her blood! And the queen slowly rose from her stoop, wiping the remnants of sugar grains from her lips. "Forgive me, your grace." Finally catching a glimpse of his face, he looked like he was high on milk of the poppy, with eyes pink and vacant, and a mouth wet and agape.

"Why- what- ey?" He said in a daze, blinking promptly to try and focus. She was in the midst of crawling off the bed, his hand skimmed her retreating calf. "No don't...you were just getting..." His hand tried to catch her foot, and it slipped through his grasp. She was up and off behind the screen. "What are you doing, love?" He was almost pleading.

Sansa checked herself with a handkerchief, there was nothing to worry about, not a single drop of blood had spotted the cloth. This was good news... Her divider rapidly folded up against the wall behind her, she gasped in surprise and quickly adjusted herself. Jon was there in its place, looking very heated. Maybe it wasn't good news.

"I hate this bloody thing." He rasped, referring to the divider. "We might as well have separate rooms if we're going to isolate ourselves."

She discarded her handkerchief. "I can't believe you just did that." She stormed past him, and returned to the bed, he seemed to think everything would resume, the plate of cake returning to his chest, leaving his stomach free for...but she crawled into the sheets. "When I go behind the screen, it means don't follow me, I have my space, you have yours."

"Yes- I granted you access into my space." The King said as if to derail her argument. "Come on- do it again, if you don't mind, love." His hand was sneaking around her back, stroking. His hand slipped up to her hair, and he applied pressure to the back of her head, urging her...down "Go on."

No! He folded her partition."Imagine if I just decided to disarm you while you were training somebody, you wouldn't like that, would you?" Gently pulling his hand from her head. "Would you?"

"You don't know what I like." He said, trying to ply her with more cake, he was nudging a slice against her chin, it was crumbling into the bed.

She looked shrewdly at his efforts. "Stop that."

He tickled the corner of the slice against her lip, staring at it intently. "If you did disarm me..." He began huskily. "I would tackle you to floor." When he had failed to feed her, he bit into the lemon cake himself. "How would you like a tackling?"

His tone didn't have a single air of threat to it, he was genuinely asking. She turned on her side to him, a little fazed by the brazenness. "You're getting me mixed up with Arya." Soon as she said it, she pictured it; Jon and Arya tackling in the mud, laughing and thrashing. A pang of jealousy hit her hard, but the fact she was jealous was a complete betrayal of her mind. She never got jealous. "Once we find her..." If we find her. Tears prickled her eyes, and Jon clanked the plate down on the side and was there with his tentative presence, brushing his finger near her eyes.

"Now now...she's somewhere about, running with the wolves, she'll have an active position in court when she gets back." His voice was soothing, and never had she heard it with this level of intimacy, apart from when he straddled her.

But Sansa still had the thought of Arya being here instead of her. Jon and Arya. But it was very odd imagining them in bed. "Considering how relaxed everyone is about us, I suppose they wouldn't mind you taking Arya as a mistress." Her sister would be nearly a woman now, her flower could be blooming at this very moment. Hope she asks for advice from her. She focused back on her husband, his lips were a thin line.

"I can't believe you just said that." He fell on his back. "Eck. " He winced. "Do you actually picture these things?"

"I do." Sansa pulled the covers up to her chin. "She'd be a woman, but she'd be Arya..."

"Eck." Jon shuffled close to her, his curls tickling her ear as he nuzzled her shoulder and neck, she remained perfectly still. "It wouldn't work, it would be like shagging ghost."

She gurned at him. "Errck." Then blew into his hair to get the tickle from her ear. "Oh gods- please, save such vulgarity for the tavern." He reacted to the puff of air and leered at her through the ruffled mess. "You are wolf like... you would be quite compatible." She added favourably.

"Are you talking about ghost or Arya?"

Sansa was musing Jon, it was so easy now. "Whatever pleases you."

"Please me." That talk on personal space seemed to have been forgotten by Jon, he butt heads with her as if seeking her affection. "Ruin me."

He was getting all doe-eyed with her, and she chose not to incite it. "Enough, I'm finished with such talk. Bedtime." Just after she had settled against her pillow, Jon suddenly barked, and she shot him an incredulous look. "Jon, behave yourself." Saying that seemed to get him all excited, he had fire in his eyes, his hands shot towards her under the covers, fingers fanning across her nighty. "Jon!" He snared her into a rough embrace, it expelled the air from her lungs in an exclamation of 'huhf.'

"Let me have this." He purred, his hands fawning over her back and sides. They were relentless in mapping out her curves, his hands cupped her buttocks and squeezed. She gasped at such misconduct, and then he paused- their eyes locked.

"What's...?" She then felt it, the warm sword of flesh and blood- fully functioning, and jabbing into her stomach through her nightie. There appeared to be a suspension of disbelief, he was staring with conviction into her soul. Jon's eyes suddenly shut, and he murmured feverishly. Oh lords, he was thanking the gods."Jon..." She didn't know how to reason with an armed man.

His eyes burst open and he thrusted at her, colliding his cock with her abdomen. Was he trying to breach her through her nightie...via the belly button? Noise burst from her in astonishment, and he answered with guttural noises. "You've had your blood- it's nigh!"

Her hands were trapped between their bodies. "Oh my gods." Sansa murmured, turning her head away as she thought he would plunder her mouth if she did try to tell him off. The Queen had a face full of hair as he aggressively kissed her neck. Perhaps a loud scream in his ear would deter him? But she didn't want to humiliate him- the whole castle would hear. That fact that she cared about her attacker- spoke wonders. She noted after sometime he wasn't heading for the major areas, he avoided her breasts and...ahem. The realisation gave her a strange sense of euphoria, he could have raped her by now, and he hadn't, it made her whole body go slack, almost as if she was surrendering to it. Gods.

"Sansa..." Her King spoke into her neck. "Sweetheart." It sounded like he was talking down a well.

She wondered if this was her body falling back into its state in her final days with Ramsay, when she used to switch off and go slack? Or was this complete and utter trust? Sansa had been rolled onto her back, she could see the canopy, and the top part of Jon's face staring down at her. She didn't recall seeing much of the canopy when Ramsay was...using her. Sansa would mostly close her eyes, or shove her face into wolf pelts. She started replaying the pain of her first time over and over again, but the pain remained, every time that followed. The room became so dark, she felt she had been blinded, no sound bounced off any of the walls either, the sound just passed through the trees.

"Sansa?" That was Jon, but not little Jon, she couldn't see him, nor did she recall when she had stopped seeing him. Wasn't she just in bed? "Hey..." Jon said this time.

She then heard her wolf howling in the trees, and the sound of hounds in hot pursuit. Lady yelped and screeched in distress and then there was silence. "No Lady!" She cried into the darkness. "She was good!"

Suddenly Ramsay's face leered at her through the darkness, oh my god is he alive, or had she died in her bed and had gone to hell with him! He was smiling with his jagged teeth. "Does this bitch howl when I stab her?" She suddenly felt herself being breached violently- she yelped, and tears prickled her eyes. She was in hell. Ramsay's face faded into the depths.

"Sansa?" Well that wasn't Ramsay.

"Where'd she go then?" Neither was that Ramsay, or Jon.

"Sansa?" That was Jon. There was then an annoying clicking noise really close."Look...see, nothing."

Those voices rung in the dark, it sounded like they were all yelling down a well for her. Had someone lost her? She hadn't moved, she was just in the darkness. Shhcuctk – Someone was sharpening a blade, a distance away. She then heard a low growl, but it was loud enough it could have been right next to her.

"You were fucking stupid." Who the hell was that?- and to whom?

"How was I to know?!"

"I bet it was her." Oh of course, that's Davos's voice, but why was he standing in the dark with her husband?

"What's wrong?" The witch was lurking in the dark too? "She'll be back a lot better than when she went."

"You say that a lot and then things get worse. Now get out!"

Sansa listened to the argument, and then a spark ignited in front of her, a wick of a candle burnt bright in her vision.

"Come out of the darkness, your grace, it is full of terrors."

The candle wick moved away from her, leaving her in the cramped darkness- she ended up racing towards it, but she had no feet. Sansa then had a sudden sick falling sensation, followed by convulsing- the room suddenly appeared as if every light had been lit. She stared up at Jon, Melisandre and Davos- looking down at her with concern. She could feel sweat cooling her body.

"Sansa." Her husband sat on the bed next to her when she acknowledged them all, he seemed to scoop her to sit her up on him. "The colours coming back to your cheeks." He stroked at them with his callous hands.

She had been right, she was still lying on the bed, but she didn't recall Melisandre and Davos coming in during Jon's escapades.

"What happened?" Sansa used the posed question to move off of her husband. She knew what happened. She put her legs over the side of the bed.

The witch opened her mouth to speak, but Davos's voice was heard. "Your red friend won't do as she's told, and Podrick betrayed your confidence, and the King decided to get amorous." That was very cocksure of him. Only he could get away with that. The King shot daggers at him, but Davos remained steady and as cocksure as ever."I thought you wanted to just have cake and talk, bond over tiffin, but nooo! Soon as you find out a woman's cycle has ended...you think; now I can dip my wick!"

Holy hells, what had she come back to?

"I didn't know she was going to go all...funny, I didn't think everything was gonna go to the dogs when my wife and I decided to cuddle in bed!" Jon expressed adamantly, his broadness ringing true.

He certainly didn't lie, he didn't know when a cuddle ends and fornication begins. "Well, you do have selective hearing." Sansa commented, yawning with the stress of her ordeal. Like a dog. She focused on the witch, you. Melisandre broke eye contact with her. The Queen levelled with her husband. "Did you dip your wick?"

Jon made a huge sigh sound dirty. She expected a yes with a reaction like that. She believed it was because a lady of her bearing had said something so coarse. "No Sansa, I didn't, I didn't get that far. I don't think I could have."

Melisandre interrupted. "-Did the problem rear its ugly head?"

He looked venomously at her. "No it didn't, it works fine, thanks." Bitch.

Sansa couldn't tell if he spoke the truth, or if he was trying to spite the witch. But if she heard him say 'I don't think I could have', he really meant he couldn't out of guilt or pity, or the fact Sansa wasn't present and engaged in the act. Though men never really needed consent. But all she knew was she felt something breach her, but it could have been an old memory replaying itself.

"Where did you go?" Jon asked, trying get back to the initial journey she went on.

"Into darkness." Sansa wasn't being vague, it was just that. But withholding information made her itch, so she scratched.

"What was in the darkness?" The witch stooped as if she was talking to a child, and Davos elbowed her out of the way.

"-I know where she went, she tried to escape." Davos made that sound like she had committed treason. And Jon appeared on the verge of agreeing with him. "That's one way to do it."

"Why Sansa?" Jon was hoarse as if saddened by the revelation Sansa could flee. It was hardly fleeing, she didn't know she had been, and she had escaped from one place only to go somewhere much worse. "Tell me."

"Seven hells, I don't know what I'm doing!" Sansa stood up from the bed and broke their committee they had formed around her. She sort her outer gown, she went to the chair that was normally behind her screen, but the screen had been folded up. The Queen pulled it on unguarded and unaided, fighting with the tie cord."You make me sound like I have betrayed you all, I am not married to all 3 of you, none of you need to know where I am, what I'm doing, and when I flower!" Her cheeks tinged. "I went into darkness, I've been there before, and I'll visit the darkness when I like!" As long as Ramsay isn't there.

Jon and Davos exchanged glances. Why do men do that? At least Melisandre was taking it in. "My Queen, I bid you goodnight, please sleep well, may I suggest you look into the fire when you are on the verge of hysteria." Oh bitch, let's make you a pyre. The witched scowled as she left, she had tuned into that thought. The witch gave Davos a funny hand signal- and he suddenly followed her. Since when did he obey her? Just before the door clicked shut, Davos spied through the gap as if waiting for drama. She then remembered she was alone...

"Are you better now?"

Okay, she wasn't alone. Her head turned sharply to her husband. "Is it a full moon tonight?" He looked pensive, as if working out if it was a full moon tonight. "Forget it, you obviously haven't read my story."

"I would like to."

And there was that tingle of affection.