Meryn Trant.

He despised standing guard for the Stark girl. He really did. All he wanted to do this late at night was take off his armour and then sneak out of the Red Keep and into the Street of Silk. He preferred a particular brothel where the 'menu' was to his taste even though they needed some time to retrieve the young boys and girls he wanted. Taking a deep breath, he took a step forward to prevent his leg from falling asleep and then he pulled his head to the right and grimaced at the cracking sounds from his neck. He then twisted his body to the right and then to the left. He heard his back crack before a tingling sensation permeated his body. He groaned his relief before turning his head toward the bottom part of the door leading to Sansa's chambers. When he was twisting his body, Trant thought he saw a flash of bright blue light shining through the bottom crack between the floor and the wooden door.

Narrowing his eyebrows, the man turned and quickly opened the door while his other hand rested on the pommel of his sword. He was ready to pull the sword out of its scabbard so that he could face and then kill any intruder. However, the chamber was dark and there was no one standing anywhere. He looked around, his eyes going through the room from the doorway, before stopping at the four post bed. He saw Sansa lying with her eyes closed, the blanket covered up to her check and her arms laid down on the gold and red blanket.

'Nothing, the traitorous girl is asleep,' the Knight thought to himself before taking another look around the room. He then huffed, 'my mind is playing tricks on me.' He then turned and walked out of the room before closing the doors behind him. All he could do now was wait for the sunrise before he would be replaced by Ser Boros Blount.

The longer he stood at the door, the more uneasy he left. It was strange, he didn't know why he should feel uneasy. Usually, he would hear movement from behind the door indicating Sansa was moving on her bed – in particular shifting her position or she would ask for an escort to the privy. This particular night, there was no sign of Sansa moving nor did she come to the door to ask for an escort.

'Who cares,' Trant thought to himself finally. If the traitor's daughter didn't want to go to the privy, then why should he care.

It would be several hours later that Boros Blount, Trant's replacement, strode through the hallway with two young women by his side. Trant noticed the linens one of the women was carrying while the other young woman was carrying some pails of water for the basin in Sansa's chambers. Once Blount reached him, Trant nodded his head before stepping to one side so that the young women could open the door and then enter Sansa's chambers. He stared at the young women and licked his lips while watching them. After the doors were closed, he turned back to Blount and told him there was nothing unusual the entire night.

'The flashes of light were only my imagination,' Trant thought to himself just as he was about to walk away. Before he could turn and leave Blount to his duty, the two of them heard screams from within the chamber. The door was hurriedly pulled open before he and Blount could reach for the door handle. One of the young girls rushed out with a panicked look on her face – her face was pale, her eyes were wide, and she was panting hard.

"Sers," the girl gasped, "the Lady Sansa… she… she…"

"What is it, girl?!" Trant exclaimed before pushing past the girl and was followed by Blount. The two of them rushed to the bed where the other girl was gently shaking Sansa.

"Mi Lady! Mi Lady! Mi Lady!"

There was no sound from the red-haired girl who was lying still on the bed. Blount pushed past Trant who could only stare at Sansa… a very pale Sansa… before shifting his eyes towards Blount who was about to slap the sleeping girl.

SLAP! SLAP!

Sansa was hit by the steel gloved hand of the Kingsguard while Trant simply stared. She was sill not awake. In fact, her head simply lolled to the right side of the bed. Trant watched Blount take off his glove and place his hand on the girl's head. He then looked back towards Trant with his lips pressed together.

"She is cold… freezing… I think the traitorous bitch is dead."

'Fuck!' Trant thought to himself as he stared at Sansa's body, 'Fuck!' He was sure the Lannister would have questions, and he had no answers.

Tyrion

Tyrion did not need this; he really did not need this shit early this morning when the sun had only just come up over the horizon. He was asleep with an empty cup on his bed next to him when he was woken up by red-cloaks sent by his father. Despite ordering them to return at a time when it wasn't still dark outside, the red-cloak insisted and telling him that Tywin was ordering him – especially him – to the small council chamber in the Tower of the Hand. It would be several moments later that Tyrion finally woke up, and before long, he found himself seated to the left of his father who was seated across from a sleepy Joffrey while the other Small Council members were at the usual places. Well, all except for Mace Tyrell who was the Master of Coin. The first thing Tywin had said was that Sansa's dead body had been discovered.

While Tyrion had no love for the girl, she was still a young girl. He had sought to protect her as much as possible from his demented older nephew and had tried to make her 'residency' in the Red Keep as comfortable as possible. Like Sansa, Tyrion was very aware the oldest daughter of Ned Stark was a glorified hostage – the Key to the North as Tywin proclaimed. Tyrion would be married to Sansa and their children would have the North and bring it to heel.

But now that plan had gone to hell.

Tyrion felt sorry for the girl, 'she had to die in a strange place with those who imprisoned her.' He looked around for cups and a jug of wine, but there was none. 'Probably father's order,' he thought to himself. He glanced at the sickening smile on his nephew's face upon hearing Sansa's death.

"The traitorous bitch is dead," Joffrey crowed as he looked at his grandfather before his gaze turned to Tyrion, "maybe she killed herself so that she would not marry you, Uncle Imp."

Tyrion scoffed.

"How did she die?" Tyrion instead asked, "and who was guarding her door?"

"Meryn Trant," Tywin replied, "he insists he saw nothing."

'Trant,' Tyrion thought, 'one of Cersei's lickspittles.' Tyrion leaned forward on his chair and said, "that man is a coward. He would not dare hurt Sansa since he knows she is… or rather was… under our protection." He mentally winced, 'Protection… what a jape… she was our prisoner.' He returned to his first question, "how did she die?"

Tyrion looked at Pycell who coughed before saying, "I have examined her body. But have found nothing to indicate foul play." Tyrion pressed his lips together while thinking to himself that Sansa was young and healthy, that the chances of her dying a natural death was very unlikely. Unless… Tyron glanced at his sister… Cersei had something to do with it. But the again, Cersei would never go against her father especially when it came to embarrassing her dwarf brother – which would definitely have happened if the wedding had gone ahead.

"Send her bones to Robb Stark and end this war," Tyrion said as he looked at a scowling Cersei, "you lost Arya Stark, Ned Stark was killed under your watch…"

"Why you…" Cersei growled.

"And now Sansa Stark is dead," Tyrion continued as his eye shifted to Joffrey who stood up and pointed at him – his body shaking in anger.

"NO! Sansa Stark will be beheaded and her head placed into a spike. She will join the head of her father and her household guard!"

Tyrion sneered at Joffrey who was about to speak when Tywin interrupted him.

"Sansa Stark's bones will be returned to Robb Stark," Tywin said surprising everyone in the room. He looked at Tyrion and Baelish before saying, "the two of you will accompany her bones to the Riverlands along with a letter from the Crown calling for the return of all Northerners to the Neck and beyond. Robb Stark will give up his crown and pledge fealty to Joffrey…"

"Father!"

"No!"

Tywin growled at both Cersei and then at Joffrey before turning back towards Tyrion, "you and Baelish will accompany her bones to the Riverlands." Before Tyrion could joke about being sent to the wolves, Tywin continued, "the both of you will be envoys of the Crown. The Starks are honourable…" Tywin scoffed at the word 'Honourable' before continuing, "so you won't be harmed."

"Thank you, dear father," Tyrion said with a sarcastic tone in his voice.

"You cannot think of letting those traitors simply go back to the North without any repercussions!"

At Cersei's outrage, everyone was about to speak their mind just as Tywin slammed his hand on the table. As soon as he did, everyone remained silent. Tyrion wanted to chuckle at the face his deranged nephew was making, instead he simply listened to Tywin speak, "let the Starks return to their cold and savage land. There is more than one way to skin wolves, and I am already in contact with traitors within their own Northmen." Now this was a surprise to Tyrion. He glanced at the others around the table and they were surprised as well. Even Baelish had his eyes narrowed at the Old Lion.

'Probably wondering who would betray the Starks,' Tyrion thought, 'just hand the poor girl's bones to her mother and brother, and then we leave. I would rather not remain in the Riverlands longer than I have to.'

"Have the Silent Sisters come and treat the Stark girl's body," Tywin said as he turned his gaze towards Pycell. The Grandmaester nodded his head before Tywin turned to Baelish and then to Tyrion, "the both of you leave tomorrow at first light." After speaking, Tywin stood up and dismissed everyone, "I have some letters to write. Now go!"

"Where is Sansa's body?" Tyrion asked while staring at Pycell. The old man told him that Sansa's body was in the holding room opposite his own Solar. Tyrion nodded his head before thinking to himself, 'I shall go pay my respects. And then I will go and drink… and think of which crone Father will have me marry now that the Key to the North is dead.'

Sansa

Death.

She could still feel herself – her arms, her legs, her fingers, her toes and so on - even though she was dead. However, she could not open her eyes or flex her fingers or move her head from one side to the next no matter how much she wished it to be so. She didn't even feel anything when the Kingsguard Ser Boros Blount slapped the side of her face with his steeled glove. Her mind was blank - there were no thoughts, no dreams, no fantasies; there was nothing. It was as if she had gone into a deep sleep after she drank from the wrist of the one known as Dracul.

Within a few moments from the silence all around her, distant noises could suddenly be heard. She could hear the sounds of shuffling feet that seemed to be circling her. As if from a great distance and slowly coming closer and closer could she hear sounds of whispers all around her. She couldn't make out the whispers… it was as if thousands upon thousands of people were speaking at the same time. And it was not just words being spoken; there were yells, screams, calling of names, the sounds of scratches, cats calling out, dogs barking, the sounds of snoring, and so many others. And then came the stench of shit, piss, and so many others that hit her nose. It as if she could smell the entire city.

Sansa could now feel the hard surface on her back as she tightened her hands which were already rolled into fists. She wanted to yell at everyone and everything to shut up… that she wanted silence. She wanted to yell out from rooftops for someone to clean the gods-forsaken city of Kings Landing as the stench was too much for her to bear. But there was something telling her not to move her body… it wasn't a voice but something deep inside. It was an instinct. She couldn't feel herself breath – her chest wasn't moving up and down but still she was getting feeling back into her body.

She could feel warmth around, she could feel the silken gown she was wearing, the pebbles covering her eyes, and a cool draft that seemed to be coming from the right side of wherever she was located. And as quickly as the numerous voices, sounds, and smells appeared… it was just as quickly that they vanished. Now all Sansa could hear were the sounds of scuffling feet moving around her… circling her.

'How do I know this?'

She could hear "DUB… SWISH… DUB… SWISH… DUB… SWISH… DUB… SWISH" as well… the sound moving slowly as if each note was being stretched out. The sound started to quicken and instinctively she knew this rapid sound was coming from the direction of the scuffling feet. To be specific, the sound was coming from whoever was scuffing their feet around her. The sound quickened to just "DUB DUB! DUB DUB! DUB DUB!" And then a scent hit her nose once again. It was the same scent as earlier that night before she closed her eyes while drinking from Dracul's wrist. It was the scent of blood.

Sansa immediately identified the sound she had heard… she sound she could still hear. 'The beat of a heart,' Sansa thought to herself, 'I could hear the flow of blood around this person's body.' She could hear another beating heart close to her standing still, and then there was another beating heart a distance away to her right. The scent of blood was overwhelming for her.

'I… I am hungry,' Sansa thought to herself as her body craved the thick red liquid. 'Lord Dracul said I require blood to survive… blood… blood…' Her mind was telling her to wake up and feed. She was telling herself that these were Lannisters and they deserved no mercy. None of them did. She wanted to feed on them all… she wanted blood to flow down the walls of the Red Keep… she wanted to kill. She was hungry. So very hungry.

The scuffling feet was to her right side now, and her hunger was already overwhelming. She snapped her eyes open and she could see through a reddish tint to her vision. Sansa turned her head towards the source of one of the heartbeat's as she rose up on what she discovered was a stone table. Sansa saw the source of the first heartbeat – the one who was shuffling – was a woman wearing dark grey robes that covered her entire body except for the eyes; and above her head was the symbol of the seven-pointed star.

'A silent sister,' Sansa thought as she stared at the eyes of the Sister which had widened in fear. Sansa heard the Sisters – both of them – hearts racing as the redhead opened her mouth and extended her fangs. It was an odd sensation, Sansa admitted to herself, to have fangs extend. She heard the two women gasp as they rushed towards the door.

"Hungry," Sansa growled before she leapt off the table. The leap was easy… she moved faster than a normal man, but it was something she did not think about at the time. She needed to feed. She grabbed one of the Sisters and then pushed her hard to the left and into the wall. And then she leapt for the other one who reached the door handle and had yelled for help. Sansa pulled her back towards the table with one arm around the waist and her left hand grabbing the top of the Sisters head. Sansa pulled the screaming Sister's head to the side just as the door opened and Sansa bit into her neck.

Blood poured into her mouth with Sansa having to only suck the thick liquid. She could feel the blood going down her throat and she was reminded of the time when she would awaken after dreaming of being Lady before she was killed. Sansa would taste blood in her mouth back then; but now she was drinking blood for truth. The taste was not imaginary. She stared at the horrified expression on the face of the Kingsguard who was alerted by the screams of the Silent Sisters, 'Ser Meryn Trant.' Sansa recalled the time when Trant beat her in front of the assembled Lords and Lady's n the throne room after Robb won the Battle of Oxcross. She could still remember how her dress was ripped apart while the Lords and Ladies simply laughed. She still remembered how the Knights did not do anything to help her.

'Perhaps I should pay them a visit' , she thought to herself before her mind went back to Trant. While he did not beat her in public again after Tyrion's defence of her, Trant beat her in Joffrey's private chambers whenever the demented boy called for her after every battle Robb won in the Riverlands.

"By the Seven!" Trant whispered with eyes wide open. Sansa could see terror etched on his face while listening to his heartbeat race faster and faster. On the other hand, the Sister she had latched on to was already near death with her heartbeat nearly coming to a stop. "Demon… Wolf Demon!" Trant whispered in fear as he reached for the pommel of his sword.

Finished with the Sister, Sansa threw her to one side. Her eyes remained on Trant who watched in fear as the Sister's body flew through the air as if it was a rag-doll before hitting the wall and then then falling to the ground with a thud. That distraction was all Sansa needed. She felt strength flowing through her whole body as she growled and then moved towards Trant who had just watched the Sister's body hit the floor. Before he could turn and draw out his sword, Sansa rushed towards him and then grabbed his hand and squeezed, the metal bending slightly before she used her hand and then pushed up beneath his exposed jaw. Her hand ripped through his skin with a disgusting "squelch!" before she pulled back her blood covered hand.

"Is my face pretty?" Sansa snarled as she recalled Joffrey's order to leave her face unharmed every time she was brought before him. Sansa closed the door as Trant fell down onto his knees while his mouth was opening and closing as if to try and scream. Sansa watched the man with blood pooling beneath him as the red liquid poured out from the hole between his jaw and his neck. Sansa could hear his heartbeat fading quickly before she turned towards the surviving Silent Sister who was knocked unconscious. Her heart was beating while Sansa thought, 'and I have no desire to feed from this so-called knight.' Sansa, who still had Trant's blood dripping onto the floor from her left hand, walked over to the second Silent Sister before kneeling down.

She was still hungry. She still needed to feed. It would be after draining the second Silent Sister that Sansa pulled her head back and then retracted her teeth. It was as if she had been feeding on blood for a long time. She then wiped the blood on her lips and the side of her mouth with the back of her hand before leaning down and then wiping the blood off on the Sisters dark grey robe.

Sansa could feel power coursing through her body as she stared at the two bodies of the Silent Sisters. She then turned her head towards the dead Trant and then turned her head towards the Sisters once again. There was a part of her that felt horrible for what she had done, after all the two Sisters were innocent and were at the wrong place and wrong time. But this was what she had wished for… this was her choice. She stood up and then walked around the room until she discovered the cool draft she had felt earlier.

Reaching out onto the wall, Sansa pushed and was surprised as a section of the wall opened up to reveal a secret passageway. Impressed that her senses were sensitive enough to feel the gentlest of drafts from a crack in the wall, Sansa stepped into the passageway. It was totally dark in the passageway once she closed the entrance, but her vision was as clear as if she was surrounded by daylight. Sansa smiled as she wondered what else she was capable of doing over time, 'Lord Dracul offered some suggestions. Now I need to know how I can control others or turn into an animal.'

But first, Sansa needed to make a mental list of who she needed to punish. 'And I will protect my pack...'

"Sansa."

Sansa narrowed her eyes upon hearing a familiar voice that broke her train of thought. There was no one in the dark passageway. She couldn't heard a heartbeat or any footsteps.

"Sansa."

She spun around and her eyes widened in surprise. Sansa was certain that if her heart could beat once again, it would be racing at the sight of the man in front of her. A man who she knows is already dead. After all, he was beheaded in front of her.

"Father?"

TBC