"Spoken memories of the future Sansa/ any other character in the future timeline"

'Thoughts of the future Sansa/any other character in the future timeline'

"Current timeline speech"

'Current timeline thoughts'

Bran's Chambers.

It would be hours after seeing Sansa, as well as her mysterious bruises and hearing her equally mysterious spoken words, that Catelyn, who had gotten some sleep, woke up by Bran's side. She hated to choose between her two children, but felt that Bran needed her more right now and tasked Jeyne with calling for her if Sansa should have another episode. As she sat next to Bran with the beginnings of a prayer wheel in her hand, Catelyn thought back to what Sansa had said, and how she looked back at her.

'Those eyes,' Catelyn thought to herself as she looked down at her hands weaving the Wheel, 'those were eyes that have seen such horror. Horror that I would never want seen by anyone, much less my own daughter.'

Her thoughts then went back to the other things that Sansa said, things that popped out in her mind as she continued weaving, 'she said something about being in Heaven, then Ned's bastard knowing something… she told me to speak to that boy…' In Catelyn's thoughts, the word 'boy', referring to Jon, was thought of with all the scorn she could muster – he was her husband's bastard after all… a boy she refused to acknowledge; he was the one glaring proof that Ned was unfaithful to her. She hated the boy, 'and Sansa knows this. Yet, she still tells me to talk to him? Why would I even want to see him? I wanted him gone, and…' Catelyn stopped weaving the Wheel and closed her eyes while reminding herself that she was getting off track.

To her, Sansa seemed delirious when she was barely awake before going back to a deep sleep, although Maester Luwin disputed any mental illness after Catelyn sent for him to check on Sansa's injuries. However, even the older man was surprised at how Sansa could have received those bruises on her lip, abdomen, and thigh. Catelyn swore him to secrecy as well before telling him that they would talk to Ned together once he returned from the hunt.

Opening her eyes, Catelyn's mind was brought back to the real world by the three knocks against the door before a visibly worried Ned opened it. "Ned," she breathed as she got up from her chair and strode over to her husband who was staring at her with a pained expression on his face before turning his head towards the unconscious Bran. Letting a soft sob escape from her lips, Catelyn then felt herself being hugged and held tight by Ned, the both of them with their eyes closed; Caitlyn with her head resting on his chest while one of Ned's hand rested on her lower back and the other hand rubbing a spot between her shoulders just below the base of her neck.

"I came as fast as I could, my love," Catelyn felt Ned kiss the top of her head just before the door opened once again after a knock. "Come," Catelyn whispered before the door opened and Maester Luwin walked on through with the chain around his neck making clinking noises. The old man then bowed to Ned before closing the door behind him.

"Cat," Ned asked, his voice heavy, "what happened?"

Catelyn then explained everything that happened before finding Bran, his legs twisted at unnatural angles at the foot of the broken tower. It was then that Luwin explained that he didn't believe Bran could walk again because of the damage to his spine and his shattered leg bones, "but take heart that he is still alive. He is breathing. However, I cannot explain why he still hasn't awoken yet."

Ned nodded at the man before turning back towards the unconscious Bran.

"How long will he be like this?" Ned asked.

"I cannot be certain, my Lord," the Maester replied in a solemn tone of voice.

"Ned, there is something else," Catelyn looked into the eyes of her husband as she continued, "it is about Sansa." A stunned Ned listened as she spoke about the bruising on Sansa's body, all the while adding that Jeyne was present to assure her that no one else was in Sansa's room Jeyne told her, followed by confirmation by Maester Luwin after he was called to check on the currently sleeping Sansa's injuries.

By the time Catelyn had done speaking, she felt her heart threatening to escape her chest while staring at the look of pure shock on Ned's face.

"Ned," she whispered placing her hand on the left side of his face, "I assure you I have seen the bruising with my own eyes. As did Maester Luwin and Jeyne. You know our daughter, she is not one to play around with a sword, these bruises could not have simply appeared."

"Of.. of course," he whispered in agreement, "but…" Ned then turned his head towards Luwin, "are you absolutely certain, Maester? That it was a bruise caused by the flat side of a sword? Are you certain of the injury on her belly, and the bruise on her lip."

"I am, Lord Stark," Maester Luwin answered, and immediately Catelyn saw the look of confusion on his face. Confusion mixed with a hint of fear in terms of whatever mysterious ailment had come to visit their daughter. And Catelyn wasn't done with the shocking news.

"There are other things we must speak off, Ned," she whispered before tuning her head towards Luwin, "Maester Luwin," and then back to Ned, "Ned, only Jeyne has heard with her own ears what I am about to reveal. And I have told her that, in no uncertain terms, she is not to reveal anything that Sansa may have said to anyone but Maester Luwin, you, or I."

"Of course, my lady," Luwin said before Catelyn glanced back behind Ned at the door to ensure that it was closed. She was very aware that the King was still in the building and that he expected Ned to visit him soon to break their fast, so Catelyn had to speak quickly but clearly. She then stepped back and, in a soft voice, recounted what Sansa had told her and Jeyne. The more Catelyn spoke about what she heard, the more Ned would furrow his eyebrows in confusion before looking at the equally confused look on Luwin.

He then turned back towards Catelyn and whispered, "she thought she was in heaven?"

"Among all the other strange things she spoke off, including…" Catelyn clenched her hands into fists before continuing to growl, "your bastard." Catelyn then looked away and shook her head, "she believed she was in heaven. And… and her eyes, Ned." She turned back to look at the worry etched on her husband, "her eyes were of a person who saw things they were never meant to see."

"She said the North fell, and that she and Jon tried to hold it…" Ned whispered closing his eyes. Catelyn could see that he was try to take it all in. Catelyn could sense Ned's worry for his daughter as well as his youngest son before he opened his eyes and looked over at Bran. The lord of Winterfell gave off a sigh before he looked back down at Catelyn, "please, Cat, tell me everything from the beginning once again."

Sansa's chamber's, at the same time.

Sansa was wondering what was happening to her. She was having these strange dreams and flashes of people and places that she simply could not have known. However, there was a feeling at the back of her mind that she had been to these places and met these people before – the Wall; then a hill overlooking a bloody battle where armies of the North were fighting each other while a slim man in black, on a horse next to her wore a mockingbird, the man made her skin crawl; then there was Kings Landing and the Red Keep where she encountered the cruelty of both Joffrey and her mother.

A part of her mind was telling her that these were just dreams, that her Joffrey could never harm her. He was too handsome and a Prince of the realm… that he was going to be a king. 'And no king who looks like him could be so cruel.'

Then there was another part of her that yelled out she was wrong; that Joffrey was cruel – then flashes of watching Ned Stark's head roll down the steps of the Sept of Baylor came to her mind again. Sansa closed her eyes at the vivid sight before her, but this time it was even worse since she could smell the blood, the shit, the piss emanating from the city; she could even hear the crowd in front of her baying for blood. She could hear herself screaming in anguish as she called out for her father, watching as his head stopped at the foot of the stairs where some of the peasants kicked it around before the masked executioner grabbed it by its long blood drenched hair. She felt herself being pulled back away as her arms were reaching out for what remained of her father's body.

And then she opened her eyes and felt a wet trail on her cheeks. She brought her hands up to her eyes and wiped the tears that were already gathered before looking down at the wetness on her hands.

'I'm crying?' Sansa thought to herself as she shook her head, 'they were… were just dreams. Just dreams…' The redhead feared she was going mad; that now Joffrey wouldn't want her anymore, 'who would? Who would want a mad woman that…'

And suddenly Sansa's thoughts were brushed aside as she watched in horror as her surroundings melt away. She felt as if there were hands gripping her heard and mind, pulling them away before she found herself standing in a tent. She stood at the entrance while a man she recognized as the older Jon she had 'seen' earlier leaning down with his hands against a table and staring back at her.

"I lived with him, Jon… I know him… I know what he is capable of."

The words were her voice, Sansa realized, and she felt her lips moving. But she still knew it wasn't her words… she wasn't talking voluntarily.

"He is our brother," Jon said glaring at her.

"Please listen to me," Sansa begged as she felt her heart clench at the feelings of great loss, "he is as good as dead. Ramsey will kill him… if he hasn't done so already. We need more men to take back Winterfell."

"I…"

"Would it be so wrong to listen to me, Jon?" Sansa heard herself say.

And then the scene changed again to what looked to be Ned's solar, and Sansa was facing Jon who was standing straight; but his eyes were avoiding her own.

"That was the…." Sansa felt anger as she walked to the large table covered in scrolls before she turned around and her hands rolled into fists, "you swore to me that you would not make decisions like this, Jon. You swore to me…"

"I did no such thing, Sansa," Jon retorted shaking his head, "I did not…"

"You swore you would not make as stupid a decision as the one you have already made!" Sansa exclaimed, "you swore you would not make the same mistakes that Rob and father made!"; she felt anger swell up in her chest as she turned around and walked out over to t he closed window. She opened it inwards and closed her eyes at the chill that brushed her cheeks… cooling her down while she heard herself and Jon breathing. Opening her eyes, Sansa looked out at the snow covered surroundings before turning around towards Jon, "without consulting me, you went beyond the Wall to collect a Wight that.."

"San…"

"A Wight," Sansa heard herself growl as she said that word. She saw Jon breathe out before looking away, "you yourself told me how dangerous these things are, how they are massing beyond the wall. I… I don't know military strategy, I freely admit that, but tell me in what world it is acceptable for a general to lead a suicide mission where they would lose more people for a cause that could ultimately…"

"We lost a few men," Jon countered, "you think I don't know that, Sansa? You don't think I know how close we came to dying out there?" Sansa felt her lips press together while Jon shook his head and then walked to the furthest wall to the left and then stood with his back to her while his hands were on his hips.

Sansa shook her head and sighed, she felt herself trying to keep her temper down.

"Cersei saw the Wight, and swore an army for the war against the dead," Jon said looking over his shoulder before turning around. Sansa noticed that he suddenly looked so weary as his shoulders drooped forward, "Sansa, this was the only way to convince her to help us. We need the Lannister army, we need the Southern army to help us… or else we're dead."

"Jon," Sansa whispered as she walked towards the man; her voice now gentle, "you don't know Cersei. She's already betrayed us."

"You don't know that," he countered.

"I know her," Sansa gently reached out and grabbed Jon's left arm before leading him to a chair near the hearth, which was blazing now, and gently sat him down, "you and your men need to come up with another plan… because I can tell you now that bitch will not come to our aid."

Sansa saw Jon nod his head looking back at her; his eyes tracking her every move as she walked towards about chair, grabbed it, and then pulled it so that she could sit next to him, "I've done everything to placate the Lords, Jon. They were angry you left the North, they wanted to make me the Queen in the North…"

Sansa was staring at the fire in the hearth' she was surprised hearing herself saying that – she wanted to be queen. It was the very reason she wanted to marry the handsome Joffrey. And now, in a dream, she had the opportunity to be queen, and she felt angry at the feeling it was taken away from her, 'why am I angry? this isn't real'.

"But I told them you were the King in the North," Sansa turned her head to look at the face of the tired Jon, "that you were doing what you thought was right as our King."

"And this is the best thing, Sansa," Jon whispered, "we need her dragons, we need her army. I did what you told me to do – to be careful and use my head. I had to make a sacrifice for the greater good. I had to make a choice that would be best for the North… for you." Sansa looked down at her hands as Jon held onto them gently, "you, Arya, and Bran are the only Starks left."

"You are a Stark to me," Sansa heard herself say before thinking to herself, 'I would never say that!'

"I bent the knee on behalf of the North because with her dragons, she will help us win the war against the dead… and she will win the Iron Throne," Jon said, "and from what I know of her, after being around her for these past months, I can tell you that she is nothing like her father…."

"Are you certain?"

"Tyrion and Varys keep her more… dangerous impulses… at check," Jon said as Sansa sighed.

"Sansa!"

Sansa heard a male voice in the distance calling out for her as she continued speaking to Jon in the dream. Sansa couldn't call out for help, all she could do was listen and reply as Jon spoke of the need to place their hopes on Daenerys Targaryen.

"Sansa!"

Sansa suddenly gasped upon feeling someone shaking her body. She snapped her eyes wide open and stared into steel grey eyes kneeling in front of her. She blinked her eyes rapidly, memories of a head rolling down the steps of the Sept of Baylor rushing back into her forefront of her mind.

"Father?" Sansa whispered before she looked around at her mother staring at her with worry on her face. She then looked down at her bead, and then at Arya who was standing next to Catelyn staring back at her with eyes narrowed in confusion. Sansa noticed that the little girl's hand was slightly trembling as she held onto Catelyn's hand before looking back over her shoulder as the door swung open and a worried Rob rushed in. As he closed the door behind him, Sansa saw Jon looking back at her with a look of worry on his face.

Sansa didn't know how to feel about Jon- for most of his life, she ignored him, 'but he played a role in my dream. But… but why would I dream about Jon? Why him?'

"Sweetling." Sansa turned her head back towards Ned after the door closed, "you were screaming out bloody murder. And then suddenly you stopped… do you remember that?" Sansa shook her head while narrowing her eyes at Ned.

'I was screaming in my dream again,' Sansa though to herself, 'but I woke up… I did…, and tehn I dreamt again.'

"I heard you from my room," Arya said as Sansa looked back at her.

"What were you doing in Braavos?" Sansa suddenly started to breath hard as everyone melted away. She pushed herself back on her bed as Arya remained, but it seemed as if her body was melting away to reveal a much older and harder young woman carrying a dagger. Sansa looked down at herself and found herself standing in a room she didn't recognize before focusing her eyes back onto her younger sister.

"Training to be a faceless man," the older Arya replied before finding herself back on a walkway overlooking a courtyard in Winterfell. She glanced at the man that made her skin crawl earlier, standing next to her before focusing on the older Arya practicing sword fighting with the large woman in armour, the one she remembered in her previous dream was called Brienne. Sansa didn't know why, but she felt a mixture of pride and fear as she watched the older Arya. And then the vison was gone, only to be replaced by her family staring at her in concern.

"Sansa," Arya said with a frown on her face, "do I detest you that much that you would hurry back on your bed to avoid me?"

Sansa whispered a 'no' while shaking her head before looking up at Rob, and then at Catelyn, and then at Ned. The only members of her family missing were Bran, and baby Rickon. Like Catelyn, Sansa didn't see Jon as a member of her family. She was simply a bastard.

'You are a Stark to me,' Sansa recalled herself saying that to Jon in her dream.

"Father," Sansa looked up at Ned, and then at Catelyn, and then at Rob again, before looking back at Arya, "Arya… I… what happened?"

"You were screaming like a mad woman," Arya said, causing Catelyn to admonish her. Arya looked back up at her mother before saying, "well, she was."

Ned frowned and looked back at his youngest daughter and said, "not now, Arya." Arya looked away, and down at her feet while Rob ruffled her hair as Ned asked his oldest trueborn son to take Arya back to her room. After Sansa watched Arya walk out of the room with Rob, she turned back towards Ned who formed a small smile on his face before saying, "your mother told me about the dreams and bruises on your self."

Sansa nodded her head as she placed her hand on her thigh where the flat side of the blade in her dream landed.

"And then she said you were talking in your sleep about losing the North," at this revelation, Sansa was surprised as she tilted her head.

"I don't remember that, Father," she replied before looking back at Catelyn.

'You have my condolences, Lady Stark,' Sansa gasped as she watched her parents melt away to reveal herself staring out over the ramparts towards a snow-covered landscape. She turned her head, involuntarily, to find Tyrion standing before her, "I wholeheartedly believed that Jon would have made a fine king, and Daenerys would have made a fine Queen. They have passed too early." She watched Tyrion sigh before saying, "I understand your need to keep this information quiet… it is so that we do not lose our morale against what is coming."

"Do you believe the gods willed this to happen, my Lord?" Sansa said out of the blue with a sense of great loss in her heart, "everyone who could have made a difference in this battle died too early. So many betrayals, murder, power-grabs… perhaps this is our punishment."

"I have never been religious," Tyrion said looking up at Sansa before he walked over to a step and then looked over the edge of the walls, "and I do not believe in fate. I believe we make our own way…" and then he sighed while placing his small hands on the surface of the wall, "but then again, my father didn't murder me after I was born… which was the fate of most dwarfs," he then looked back at Sansa, "so what do I know? All I know is that, in hindsight, events brought us to this moment."

"What do you mean?" Sansa asked while thinking; 'Yes, what do you mean?'

"After the Rebellion, the realm never really fully healed," Tyrion said looking back out at the snow, "yes, we were prosperous, but there were so many cracks that could not be repaired easily. So much hate, schemes and betrayals going off all at once. All ultimately resulted in Baelish's betrayal which led to Bran's fall, my kidnapping by your mother, the death of Lord Stark, and then the War of the Five Kings. The cracks widened and old wounds reopened. We lost our unity."

Tyrion then looked up at Sansa.

"Perhaps this was meant to happen," Tyrion whispered, "the dead coming back to punish the living for wasting our lives in the pursuit of power…" Tyrion then sighed and looked away, "what do I know though."

Sansa stared out at the snow covered landscape and closed her eyes, "this is the final days before the end."

"It would seem that way," Tyrion answered as he looked up at Sansa and then back out towards the vastness of snow laying outside the castle walls, "I supposed I could say that I have no regrets… we fought hard, and we failed."

"We failed," Sansa repeated.

"But we fought with everything we had, and we will continue to fight even though we both know it will be a failure."

Sansa nodded her head at Tyrion before excusing herself. Sansa watched through her own eyes as her body moved without being able to control when or where she went. After wandering through the castle where she witnessed first-hand the number of people taking refuge within the castle walls, Sansa saw herself standing in front of the Heart Tree in the godswood. She stared at the face carved onto the trunk – it was a face that had always given Sansa a creepy feeling… even now, just staring at the face, she felt as if she was being watched. At the same time, the redhead felt at ease here as her body went down on one knee.

She then clasped her hands together against her chest before lowering her head and closing her eyes.And she prayed.

Then just like that, Sansa gasped again and found herself staring at the concerned expressions on her mother and father.

"Sansa," Ned said, "what happened? You blanked out for a moment."

"Was it a vision?" Catelyn narrowed her eyes as she sat on the bed and reached for, and then gently held onto Sansa's hand. "Sansa, was it a vision?"

"I.. I don't know, they were dreams before but… but I just had a few visions when I was awake," Sansa shook her head, "they have to be dreams… waking-dreams perhaps."

"Sansa," Ned asked, "can you tell me how you got your bruises?"

"I…."

Before Sansa could answer, a fist was pounding the door to Sansa's chamber. Sansa quickly grabbed her blanket to cover her night clothes just as Ned strode around the bed, "Ned! I heard something happened to your daughter, the one supposed to marry Joffrey. I have my Kingsguard here to take her statement before we go kill the fucker who hurt her!"

Ned opened the door with a sigh, silently hoping that his best friend – also known as the King – wasn't drunk. Yet.

While the Lord of Winterfell smoothed things over with the King outside in the hallway, Sansa felt she was being watched. She shifted her eyes towards the door and watched the Queen walk by, glancing at her with a sneer on her face. Sansa felt chills going through her body, and hoped that it was simply because of the thin clothes she was wearing under the fur covers.

While the queen was convincing her husband that they needed to leave for breakfast so that the Starks could handle their, as she said, disturbed daughter, Sansa's eyes landed on one of the Kingsguard. While Catelyn was silently fuming at hearing that the Queen called Sansa a 'disturbed girl', Sansa's heart raced as her eyes locked with the bearded and dark eyed man eyeing her hungrily.

'That's the one,' Sansa thought as her mind brought her back to the Throne Room in the Red Keep, along with the beatings from the Knight who wasn't wearing his helm, 'he's the one who beat me… he…' Sansa looked away as the door closed shut before looking over at the silently raging Catelyn, and whispered, "I… I know who beat me in my dream, Mother"

Catelyn immediately turned her head towards Sansa, who gulped before she leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

"It was one of the Kingsguard."

'But what would anything I say do?' Sansa thought as she looked at the surprise on Catelyn's face, 'it's just a dream… just a dream.' Sansa then looked away and towards her thigh while her left hand, still under the fur blanket, was placed on the slight throbbing pain coming from the bruise on her abdomen, 'but how did I receive these injuries?'

TBC.