After a while, Sansa fell asleep, and so did Aden, curled up beside her. Jon couldn't though, he didn't want to shut his eyes and risk losing her again. So he watched for a long time, before he heard, faintly, the unmistakable sound of his daughter crying in the room across the hallway.
He was on his feet the next moment, and pushed out of their bedchamber and across the way to the other. The nanny jumped when the doors opened, as she was holding Kyria, trying to settle her.
"Ada?" Kyria asked Jon when she saw him, pointing at Aden's empty bed beside hers.
"Aden is in our room, with your mother." he assured her, and took her from the nanny's arms. "I can take her, if that's alright."
"Are you sure, m'lord?" she asked, looking confused. Men in the south were hardly involved with their children, especially those highborn.
He carried her back to their bedchamber. Sunrise was coming up over the city. He walked to the balcony, overlooking it, feeling both exhausted and elated. Kyria had fallen back asleep, and was breathing against his neck, her hand resting on his chest.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over the pair. Drogon was soaring out of the castle, from somewhere even higher than they were, and he cast a grand shadow across the balcony. The sight of him against the dull yellow sky of dawn was breathtaking. The way he moved so effortlessly, and how the light caught his scales just barely.
Jon shook Kyria gently, knowing she'd be thrilled to see it. She blinked, looking up at him, her brow crumpling into that of a tearful and tired child. But he pointed, and she looked up, and her mouth dropped open, into a perfect circle. She gasped lightly, a tiny sound, and Jon chuckled, marveling at her miniature beauty.
"Big." she said, one of the few words she could say. He smiled wider, nodding. She clapped her hands, and laughed, her clear blue eyes glowing with delight.
Drogon flew into the distance, heading north. Kyria didn't stop watching him until he was a tiny speck in the distance, and Jon was sure she hardly even blinked. She finally looked back over at him, and dimpled, smacking his face lightly.
"Gentle, please." he reminded her, and when she touched his face again it was a soft pat. "Are we hungry, then, my princess?"
She nodded, and tapped her lips, her way of asking for food when she didn't feel like bothering with speaking.
Jon sent for some food to be brought up, not wanting to leave Sansa or Aden, who both had continued to sleep soundly in the bed together. Jon sat Kyria on his lap, and they ate a small breakfast of plums and toast. Kyria's lips and chin got stained purple. As dawn broke into morning, the day began to warm, and rays of light crept past the balcony and snuck into the bedchamber, spilling across the marble floors with a gleam.
Aden was awoken by the sunlight, and crawled of bed, joining his father and sister on the balcony.
"Is momma okay?" he asked Jon as he pulled himself onto a nearby chair. Kyria cried out in delight when she caught sight of him, and squirmed off Jon to join Aden on his chair. Aden reached for a slice of apple, munching on it.
"She's going to be, yes." Jon said, and Aden nodded.
"I was very worried." Aden said sullenly.
"Me too." Jon sighed. "Luckily, the maesters and midwife here are the best in Westeros. They made her well again."
"I will make sure to thank them." Aden said. Jon was surprised at how formally he was speaking. Perhaps he felt, now that he'd witnessed the near death of his mother, a sense of maturity and wisdom.
"We should let her rest, today. I can take you to your lessons in a bit."
"Bran?" Kyria asked him suddenly. This took Jon aback. Kyria hadn't once asked about her favorite uncle.
"He's in Winterfell, darling." Jon explained. "He's keeping the castle safe for us so we can return."
She looked sullen at this answer, but didn't push it.
"When are we going home?" Aden asked.
"Soon, son." Jon sighed. "As soon as we can, I promise you."
Jon stood, going over to the bed to see that Sansa was still breathing. She was curled against the pillows on the one side where the bed wasn't stripped. Her hair was in tangles and splayed all over, and her mouth was barely open, her breath coming slowly and peacefully. He wondered, vaguely, if Sansa would mourn for the loss of this child. He hadn't even once thought of it, he realized, of the baby she'd lost that night. He'd only been worried about her, and her life.
He returned to his children, taking them by the hands to go get them properly dressed. He left them with their nanny and returned to the bedroom, to sleep. He could feel the weight of his exhaustion beginning to press down on him. He wondered if they'd had enough sorrows for a lifetime, and yet the Gods kept punishing them with more.
Sansa awoke to a pounding headache and a dull throbbing ache in her lower belly. Everything had gone wrong so quickly last night, and she could barely remember a thing aside from all the blood. She could still smell it, she realized with a nauseating sense of dread. It hung in the room like a thick poison.
She stood, carefully, and felt her knees buckle. She caught herself on the edge of the bed, but the weight of the movement startled Jon awake.
"Sansa?" he asked. "Are you alright?"
She nodded, her lips in a thin line.
"I'm fine, really." she sighed, and made due by sitting on the edge of the bed. "I don't want to be coddled, Jon, please. I'm alright."
He frowned, and pulled the blankets off of him. He joined her on the other side of the bed, sitting beside her.
"You nearly scared me to death, last night."
She bit down on her lip, remembering the torment in his face as she faded away.
"What did they do to me?" she asked, pressing a palm against her stomach, looking down at it.
"The midwife gave you a potion, to stop the bleeding. Something that...that might scar your insides. But it was the only thing that would save you."
Her lip quivered, but she didn't break. She reached for his hand, and squeezed it.
"What does that mean for us? Kyria takes Winterfell, eventually?"
He shrugged.
"That's so far off, Sansa." he said. "Don't worry about it, not now, please."
"Okay." she sighed.
"How are you feeling?" he asked. "Any better?"
She nodded, slowly, taking notice of her body. She was light headed, and her body sore and unforgiving, but she was alive. And she was grateful for that.
"Aden? And Kyria?" she asked.
"They're in their lessons." he said. "Aden stayed with you most of the night. He was very brave."
"He was. No, he is." she said. "He'll be a fine king, someday."
"Aye." Jon said.
"I don't want to leave him here. Jon."
"No. Neither do I. Not yet."
She looked immensely relieved.
"I want to go home." she whispered, tears in her eyes. She hadn't missed home like this since she was a girl, trapped again in Kings Landing.
The days stretched on, long and hot, as Sansa slowly healed. She was soon strong enough to walk without help, and within a couple weeks, felt nearly completely better.
Three weeks after the incident, the Stark family was readying to return home. Carriages were being loaded, although they still had a few final days in the Red Keep.
The family sat in the dining hall, in the late evening, at a wide table. Kyria was falling asleep on Jon's lap, and Sansa was helping Aden draw pictures on a piece of parchment. With a loud bang, the double doors crashed open.
"Aunt Arya!" Aden shrieked, catching sight of her. She strode over to her family, stepping lightly. She wore brown leather riding pants, a white blouse, and her hair was cropped short and in a golden headband. Her sword was at her hip, and she smiled brightly at them all.
Aden dashed to her, abandoning his drawing, and threw his arms around her middle. She stooped, kissing his face, and mussing his hair.
Kyria had awoken, and was less enamored with the appearance of an aunt she was pretty unfamiliar with. But Jon had stood, setting Kyria on the bench. He gathered Arya in his arms, kissing the top of her head.
"We've missed you." Jon said, pulling away. Sansa was by her side, wrapping her arms around her next. Aden hadn't let go of Arya's belt once.
"I was creating unrest and havoc in Pentos." she said. "But Bran sent word...and I thought I'd join you on the way back to Winterfell."
"Wonderful." Sansa cried. Arya looked at her, and was surprised to see tears in her sisters eyes.
Arya laughed, and thumbed them off of Sansa's cheeks.
"You're such a girl." she teased her lightly, and Sansa let out a watery laugh. She kissed Arya's cheek.
"I'm just glad to see you, sister."
"I'm glad to see you. Well done on not dying." she added.
Ghost padded over, his ears up, tongue lolling in a jolly fashion. He'd been roaming the castle grounds as he pleased, as nobody seemed brave enough to tell Jon it was unacceptable. Arya cried out in delight, falling to her knees, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"My favorite Stark!" she cried, kissing his ears and muzzle. He lapped at her face. Kyria was now perched on the edge of the table, watching the scene with interest.
"Oh, Gods. Kyria!" Sansa said, turning, and scooping up her daughter. "This is your Aunt Arya, the last time we saw her, you were just a babe."
Kyria nodded, but her face remained serious. Arya approached her cautiously.
"Hello, little lass." she tried, holding out her finger for Arya to take and examine. "She looks just like you, Jon." she commented. "Thank god she's not another ginger."
Sansa smacked at her with her free hand, and Arya jumped out of the way.
"Well, perhaps she'll enjoy the presents I've brought them."
"Presents?" Aden asked, still at Arya's hip. Arya crouched down, and pulled a small sheathed knife from the pouch at her side. It was silver handled, with sapphire laid into the sheath. He took it, his mouth agape.
"I had a...friend, make it for you special." she said. Aden gently unsheathed it, and saw the Stark sigil burned into the blade.
Sansa arched a brow at this, but said nothing.
Arya stood, and fished something else from her bag. It was a tiny iron dragon, it's mouth open, with red rubies spilling from it's mouth to represent flames. She handed it to Kyria, who took it with wide eyes.
"Drogon." she said softly. "I see'd him."
Arya smiled, looking back to Jon and Sansa.
"I knew I could buy her affection." she said. "So...when do we leave?"