Sansa has some girl time.
Warning for references to suicide.
Sansa
Sansa was woken by movement in the bed beside her. Her body, which had been tangled up in Jon's, was suddenly cold as he gently climbed out of the bed. She kept her eyes closed as he quietly made his way to the Privy, when Sansa opened them and looked around. The fire was still low in the hearth, just about keeping the cold out, although there was still a chill in the air. Sansa snuggled deeper into the furs where Jon had lain, taking in what was left of his body heat. Despite not mentioning it, Sansa had noticed Jon's body seemed hotter than her own. Maybe it was the dragon blood running through his veins, but it was very much welcome in the cold, dark environment at Castle Black. Despite being comfortable, Sansa didn't want to go back to sleep. Jon was leaving early to go to the wildling camp to gather the men needed to win back Winterfell; and she wanted to say goodbye, therefore she waited for him to return from the privy. For some reason, which at first she couldn't fathom, Jon seemed to be taking an eternity, it was a good job Sansa didn't need to urgently make water. When she first heard a noise, she thought he was about to return, so she closed her eyes. Then she heard him groan, and worry began to seep in, was there something amiss? However it was when she heard him moan in a low voice, "Fuck..ahh!" did she fully understand what he was doing. She pulled the furs around her face to hide her blushes. Of course, she knew men were often hard in a morning, it was natural; or so Littlefinger had once told her. It had just never occurred to her that Jon would have to find his release, while she was in the room next door. Mayhaps he'd thought about her stitching his wounds the day before, which made her stomach flip at the very idea, a notion she instantly put away.
As soon as she heard him open the door, she rolled over, stretched and yawned, suggesting she was just waking. "Are you leaving so soon?" she pretended to be groggy.
Jon knelt down beside the bed and took her hands in his. "The sooner I leave, the sooner I return."
"The sooner you leave, the sooner you can get drunk."
Jon tucked a loose tendril behind her ear, Sansa was glad the room was fairly dark as she blushed at the action. "I would never do anything of the sort...well unless it is necessary to get Winterfell back."
"Then I approve." Sansa nodded. "Be safe."
"I will." Jon leaned in and instead of kissing her on the head like he usually did, he kissed her on the cheek, close to her lips, for a moment she contemplated moving her face, so that their lips would meet, but she quickly put it to the back of her mind. "I'll be back tomorrow. You take care with Littlefinger." he ran his thumb down her cheek where he'd just kissed her, causing her heart to speed up.
"I'll be fine." Sansa nodded, although she wasn't. She clasped his hand for a moment, wishing she could pull him back into bed, but to do what? Jon got up and made his way to the door, giving her one last look, and opening the door.
"Go on in boy. Look after her." Sansa heard him say, as the enormous white direwolf replaced his Master, by climbing on the bed and curling up next to her. As warm as Ghost was, despite her best efforts, Sansa couldn't go back to sleep, so she got up.
It was late morning when she arrived at Moles Town, although it wasn't much of a town. There were a few houses, an inn, a shack, what was apparently once one of the two brothels; the place she was meeting with Littlefinger. However, there were are few stalls, selling food, cloth, soaps, scents, make-up and household wears. After she had faced Littlefinger, she wanted to buy some material, some soap, oils and something for her hair. The soap at Castle Black got rid of the dirt and grime, but the smell wasn't to her taste. She just wanted to feel like Sansa Stark once more, however she needed to deal with him first, and as much as she wanted to really tell him how she felt, she knew she was going to need him to take back Winterfell, and it pained her, but needs must.
Weak daylight poured through the windows of their meeting place, dust particles swirled in the air, suggesting it had long been disused. In the middle of the room stood Littlefinger, wearing a dark cape and a look of regret on his face. Sansa instantly knew he had known what Ramsey was, she just hadn't seen it before. She boiled inside, but she had to keep her feelings to herself, she couldn't deviate away from her old words, when all she wanted to do was give Brienne the order to kill Littlefinger, but that would do her no good.
Littlefinger smiled his creepy smile. "Sansa. Lady Brienne. When I heard you had escaped Winterfell, I feared the worst. You have no idea how happy I am to see you unharmed." his voice didn't particularly sound sincere, but Sansa ignored it.
"Unharmed?" Sansa raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"
"I rode north with the Knights of the Vale to come to your aid. They're encamped at Moat Cailin as we speak." he told her.
"To come to my aid? A bit late for that, don't you think? Did you know about Ramsay? If you didn't know, you're an idiot. If you did know, you're my enemy." she stepped closer to Littlefinger, drawing herself up as tall as possible, she needed to intimidate him without becoming the Queen in the North. Sansa had to be the scorned victim, trying to put on a brave face. "Would you like to hear about our wedding night? He never hurt my face. He needed my face, the face of Ned Stark's daughter. But the rest of me, he did what he liked with the rest of me as long as I could still give him an heir. What do you think he did?" she asked.
"I can't begin to contemplate..." Littlefinger shook his head.
"What do you think he did to me?" Sansa raised her voice.
"Lady Sansa asked you a question." Brienne made her presence known, her voice so polite, exuding danger.
"He beat you." Littlefinger whispered, as if it were a guess, but Sansa was sure he knew more.
Sansa nodded. "Yes, he enjoyed that. What else do you think he did?"
"Sansa, I.." Sansa sensed the fear in Littlefinger's voice, but she knew the words, the ones needed to ensure he gave her the Vale army.
"What else?" Sansa demanded.
"Did he cut you?" Littlefinger asked.
And there it was, the confirmation and proof Sansa needed, of course Littlefinger knew exactly what Ramsey was. He'd wanted her beaten, desperate, broken until she begged for his help. Littlefinger had miscalculated Sansa. "Maybe you did know about Ramsay all along."
"I didn't know." Littlefinger protested.
"I thought you knew everyone's secrets." Sansa challenged him.
"I made a mistake, a horrible mistake. I underestimated a stranger." he lied.
"The other things he did, ladies aren't supposed to talk about those things, but I imagine brothel keepers talk about them all the time. I can still feel it. I don't mean in my tender heart it still pains me so. I can still feel what he did in my body standing here right now." Sansa spat.
"I'm so sorry." Littlefinger whispered, and for the first time, he genuinely sounded like he meant it.
"You said you would protect me." Sansa challenged him.
"And I will. You must believe me when I tell you that I will." he promised.
"I don't believe you anymore. I don't need you anymore. You can't protect me. You won't even be able to protect yourself if I tell Brienne to cut you down. And why shouldn't I?"
"Do you want me to beg for my life? If that's what you want, I will. Whatever you ask that is in my power, I will do."
"What if I want you to die here and now?" Sansa meant it, she wanted him dead, but she wanted the Vale more.
"Then I will die."
"You freed me from the monsters who murdered my family and you gave me to other monsters who murdered my family. Go back to Moat Cailin. My brother and I will take back the North on our own. I never want to see you again."
"I would do anything to undo what's been done to you. I know that I can't. Will you allow me to say one more thing before I go? Your great-uncle Brynden the Blackfish has gathered what remains of the Tully forces and retaken Riverrun. You might consider seeking him out. The time may come when you need an army loyal to you." Littlefinger told her. Sansa knew it was a half-truth, he had re-taken Riverrun, but he was surrounded by Lannister forces, however, this was another reason Sansa wanted to be here, she wanted Brienne to know about the siege at Riverrun.
"I have an army." Sansa told him.
"Your brother's army." Littlefinger stood next to Sansa. "Half-brother." she knew he was working his poison so she decided to take the bait, she wanted to know what secrets or lies he would spill first.
"What difference does it make?" Sansa couldn't help herself.
"Who do you think they'll want to rule once you take back Winterfell? You should be Queen Sansa, not a bastard." he whispered into her ear.
"You know nothing of my brother." she snarled.
"Oh I know plenty. More than should be known. He's broken his oaths..." Littlefinger started.
"I know what Jon has done. He tells me everything." she gritted her teeth.
"Did he tell you how Stannis was going to make him Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North when he became King?" Littlefinger asked.
Sansa pretended to be shocked, acting as if she had no idea. "He wouldn't." she already knew of the offer and what Jon's response to it was, but she decided to play Littlefinger at his own game.
"His death was very...convenient, wouldn't you say. Now he can become Lord of Winterfell, they may even crown him King in the north. Taking what is rightfully yours. Why should a bastard born in the south take what is yours."
Sansa frowned. "Born in the south?" she asked.
"Dorne, so I hear. He's not even a snow, not a northerner. How can the your bannermen crown a bastard from Dorne as King in the North?" he bowed his head. "As I said earlier, I will always protect you. Good-day Lady Sansa." he added and left.
Sansa took a deep breath. "My Lady." Brienne's voice sounded concerned.
Sansa turned to her sworn shield. "Tonight, you will come to my chambers and we will have some wine. I have important things to discuss with you, and I believe alcohol will be required." she said, putting her concerns of Littlefinger's knowledge of Jon to the back of her mind. She'd deal with it later.
Sansa and Brienne spent the next hour perusing the stalls. Wine, various materials, soap, scents, make up, thread, beads and oils were bought. None were frivolous, they all served a purpose, to change the future. Even the wine she would share with Brienne that evening served a purpose, to change things for the better. Of course, Brienne tried to refuse, citing her duties to protect Sansa, therefore she was not able to drink too much alcohol, until Sansa pointed out Ghost's presence, and Brienne finally capitulated.
When Brienne arrived without armour, Sansa was surprised. She'd only ever seen Brienne dressed causally in Kings Landing, at the wedding of Joffrey and Margaery. The Tarth blue seemed to soften her looks, especially by the fire, despite Brienne's look of discomfort.
"Tonight, there will be no formalities." Sansa started as she poured them both a mug of wine. "First name basis only. I have much to discuss with you."
Brienne frowned. "I'm not sure I like the sound of this."
"Brienne, what do you know of the north and the first men? About their culture?" she asked.
"The Starks rule the north, it is cold, vast and not very hospitable." Brienne was blunt in her assessment. "I admit, I know little of the first men. It is not something we studied in great detail in Tarth."
Sansa nodded. "I suspected as much. Westeros is made up of the Children of the Forest, the First Men, the Andals and the Valyrians. Although there are very few left who are descendants of old Valyria." Brienne frowned, seemingly confused at the direction of the conversation. "I am not giving you a history lesson."
"I was never a student of history." Brienne admitted.
"All four races of people were very different. The Children were magical..."
"I thought they were extinct."
"They will be." Sansa said sadly. "The giants too." her thoughts went to the giant Wun Wun, who would die as the last giant, saving Winterfell. "The blood of the first men were also magical, as well as some of the Valyrians."
"You mean Targaryen's?" Brienne said pointedly.
"Especially the Targaryen's." Sansa agreed. "They are said to be part dragon. Do you believe that?"
Brienne shrugged. "I've never thought much about it. The Targaryen's are gone, so it doesn't really matter."
Sansa shook her head. "Daenerys Targaryen is currently across the narrow sea with three full grown dragons. She calls herself the Mother of Dragons, she can walk through the flames untouched."
"Are these just stories to scare people? Or are they the truth?"
"Tyrion Lannister is her hand, Lord Varys is also by her side. It will not be long before she turns her attention towards Westeros." Sansa looked into her goblet of wine. "The Targaryen's have a connection with their dragons. Whether they are really part dragon, I don't know, however they have a connection. In that way, they are very similar to the first men."
"What do you mean?" Brienne asked.
"Have you heard of green sight and wargs?"
Brienne frowned. "Isn't green sight a gift for those who see into the future?" Sansa nodded. "I don't know what a warg is my..." she stopped and took a sip of wine.
"A warg is someone who can see through the eyes of an animal, a familiar. Some call them skin changers."
Brienne nodded. "I've heard of such people."
"The Starks are the blood of the first men." Sansa ran her fingers through Ghost's fur. "We have direwolves as our sigil for a reason."
"The Stark's of old claimed the direwolves were their familiars?" Brienne surmised.
"Those claims were correct. Did you know all of my siblings and I had a direwolf?" Sansa asked, Brienne nodded. "Bran is a powerful warg. His direwolf, Summer, still lives, but he can warg into other creatures, including humans." Brienne looked a little fearful, glancing at Ghost. "Arya's direwolf, Nymeria, she is alive. My direwolf, Lady, she died when she was a pup. Greywind died with Robb, and Shaggydog, is probably dead at the hands of Ramsey." Sansa spat.
"I'm afraid I don't understand what you are getting at."
"I have the blood of the first men. Although Lady died, it does not mean I cannot enter the body of animals. I believe my familiar is to be a bird. And Jon..." Ghost looked up at Sansa, as if she were speaking to Jon directly. "He has Ghost. Which is how I know he is protecting me."
Brienne gulped. "Is Jon in the room right now?" she looked at Ghost with trepidation.
"None of us are like Bran, we all have the ability, but not the control he has. Likewise, he has the sight. He can see the past, the present and some glimpses of the future. He is the Three-Eyed-Raven." she explained, but Brienne looked nonplussed. "I also have the gift of the sight."
"Oh." Brienne said. "And what do you know?"
"Mine isn't as powerful as Bran's. I have seen one path, which leads to much good, but it also leads to war and destruction on a scale not seen since Aegon the Conqueror." Sansa explained. "I am trying to alter things, so that as many people can be saved."
"Do I..." Brienne started, but Sansa shook her head.
"No, you do not end up dead. Yours is a wonderful future, although I suspect there was one which you would have liked better. I will not tell you what that is as I suspect that is beyond my capabilities." Sansa lied knowing perfectly well that she was going to try and ensure Brienne and Jaime stayed together this time.
"And what of the battle?" Brienne asked.
"We will win. It was why I met Lord Baelish today. He will send his army in and help us defeat Ramsey. We retake Winterfell and the dragon Queen sails to Dragonstone. She helps us defeat the army of the dead. She loses a lot of people and goes mad, destroys much of Kings Landing, and Jon kills her, making him a Queenslayer." Sansa waited. "He is exiled and I become Queen in the North, only to die a few years later from poisoning."
"Gods." Brienne covered her mouth with her hand.
"I have already made changes. I sent Davos to Dragonstone to mine the dragonglass. In my green dreams, we didn't discover that until after we re-took Winterfell. By the time we could mine the dragonglass, Daenerys was already on Dragonstone and she kept Jon and Ser Davos hostage. I have instructed Ser Davos to strip the castle bare, to make life as difficult as possible for Daenerys. If we can slow her progress, it might buy us more time. We need grain and Daenerys destroyed the stores from the Reach."
"The Reach is the greatest supplier in Westeros during the winter." Brienne looked shocked. "Why would she do something so stupid?"
"Because Daenerys is a conqueror, not a ruler. She cares about sitting on the Iron Throne and having everyone worship at her feet. She doesn't care how the smallfolk suffer. Whether they starve or not." Sansa was angry with Daenerys, and could not hold it back. "We will need those supplies, and we need to make an alliance with the Tyrell's. Lady Olenna owes me a debt. To ensure our safety, I want to try and enact a change which will have enormous repercussions, and this is where I need your help." Sansa smiled, taking a sip of wine. "Do you believe me?"
"I'm trying." Brienne replied. "What would you like me to do?"
"Do you remember what Littlefinger said about my uncle, the Blackfish?" Sansa asked, Brienne nodded. "Uncle Brynden's army will be defeated by Jaime Lannister and his army. In my dreams I sent you to bring my uncle to help, but it was a ruse to separate you and I. I suspect Littlefinger is concerned by your presence."
"He's already trying to poison your ear against Jon." Brienne had also noticed what Littlefinger was up to. "This time..." she started.
"I will be perfectly well protected." Sansa looked at Ghost. "Firstly, you will join us to parley with Lady Lyanna Mormont. She is fierce and I suspect you would be the right person to talk her into siding with us. I can tell you what Ser Davos said to convince her to side with us. I'm sure you could make it work for you." Brienne nodded. "After that, I need you to travel south to Kings Landing. I would prefer it if you could talk Ser Jaime into joining you."
"Why?" Brienne asked.
"Cersei is going to blow up the Sept of Baelor. Inside will be the Faith Militant, most of the Tyrell's, including Mace Tyrell, Margaery and Loras; using wildfire. We have less than six moons from now to rescue Margaery and Loras. I doubt Mace Tyrell will manage to escape." Sansa explained.
"Will Cersei still blow up the Sept?" Brienne asked.
Sansa nodded. "She is to stand trial, but she blows the Sept up instead. As a consequence, Tommen kills himself by jumping out of the window of Maegor's Holdfast. By saving Queen Margaery, you are saving the King, Jaime's son."
"And you think that is why he might agree to help?" Brienne asked.
"If you decide to tell him what will happen. It is your choice." Sansa told her. "Will you at least try to save them? I will write to Lady Olenna and tell her that Cersei is plotting something in Kings Landing which involves wildfire. If I write to her on the morrow, we should know how she can help by the time we reach Bear Island."
"I will do all I can to help." Brienne agreed.
"There are other things I would love to tell you, but for now, they must be kept a secret. They are not my stories to tell, and I can do nothing to change them" Sansa told her as they finished their wine and Sansa yawned.
"I should not keep you up any longer." Brienne stood up.
"Thank you." Sansa smiled. "We will discuss this matter further and involve Jon."
"Does he know?" Brienne asked, Sansa laughed and nodded.
"He knows every detail. He needs to, he is central to everything." she shrugged as Brienne stroked Ghost wearily, clearly unsure whether the direwolf was Jon or Ghost; she then left Sansa alone.
Sansa stripped down to her shift, which felt heavenly. She'd been sleeping in her dress because she was sharing it with Jon. Tonight she wanted a little freedom. Ghost jumped up on the bed beside her as she blew out the candle next to her bed and snuggled into the white fur of the direwolf.
The green grass shimmered like emeralds in the sun, the blue water as clear as glass. Across the water was the island, the gods eye, where there were masses of weirwoods, their blood red leaves a stark contrast to their pale white branches. A small boat bobbed around in the water before her. Sansa looked around only to see herself, except older, the Queen in the North. Beside her older self stood lady Melisandre, bedecked in her deep red robes, the runt choker at her throat glowing in the sunshine.
"Shall we meet her on the other side?" Melisandre pointed towards the island and Sansa nodded. Immediately they were on the other side, under an enormous weirwood tree, its face carved into the trunk, staring back as if mocking them.
"I wouldn't have thought you would have chosen to appreciate the magic of the gods eye."
"The lord of light manifests himself in different guises. If a woods witch were dressed like me, they would blend in, would they not?" Sansa decided not to say anything, she didn't believe the children of the forest would have anything to do with R'hllor.
A crunching sound in the fallen leaves distracted Sansa. She looked around and saw a small elderly woman, her hair thinned out, shoulders hunched, eyes bright red like Melisandre's, and Sansa began to question whether the red priestess had a point.
"My child, I was expecting you." the woman said to the Queen in the North. "But tell me, why do you think you are here?"
Sansa watched on as tears filled the eyes of the older version of herself. "I do not know what to do. My Lords wish for an heir, but I cannot bear for another man to touch me."
"There must always be a Stark in Winterfell." the small woman warned her.
"I know, so I was wondering if you had anything which would help me forget what happened, or could help me overcome my...issues. My Lords do not know what happened, I can't let them see my weakness."
"Little dove, spread your wings, you must learn how to fly." the woman said.
The Queen lowered her eyes. "I don't understand."
"The most fearsome man in the skies." the old woman told her. "Take to the wing, where you will find him. In the clouds above, you will find your heart's desire."
"How do I find him?" the elder Sansa begged.
"Only a sacrifice can pay for such magic you seek."
"Who? I don't want anyone else to die." Sansa began to panic, she couldn't face any more death. She'd prefer to die alone than face another person she loved die.
"A sacrifice does not always mean death. You will understand when the time comes. " she assured her. To achieve your goal, you will need knowledge of today, for knowledge is power. Use it wisely. Even if you try, you cannot save everyone." the old woman handed the Queen a yellow vial. "Drink this. It will give you time to return to Winterfell. Hold on to something of your own making as you sleep. Then you will return to a time of pain."
The older Sansa took the vial. "What will it do?"
"Eventually you will fall into a sleep, when you wake, you will suffer." Sansa understood the witch.
"She wants me to kill myself." Sansa whispered to Melisandre, who nodded.
"Will the poison be painful?" the Queen asked.
"Of course. To go back north, your sickness must be real. It will be painful and slow, but should you right the wrongs, your prize will be worth the discomfort."
"How long do I have until I die?" the older Sansa removed the stopper.
"As long as it takes for you to return. But as the end nears, you must hold on to something dear, of your own making, otherwise the magic will not work." the witch warned again. The Queen nodded and tipped the vial of liquid in her mouth, coughing as it went down. "There is no turning back." the witch told her as the vision faded.
Suddenly, Sansa was in Winterfell stood beside the large bed of what Sansa recognised to be the Lords chambers. The Queen was covered in furs, her skin held more pallor than usual, almost a tinge of blue. The dying woman coughed, blood coated her lips, but she didn't seem distressed. Instead she held on tight to what looked like a cloak with a fur collar. Something dear, Sansa thought, although a cloak seemed like a strange thing to cling to. Sansa closed in on the bed to examine the item in detail, the fur looked familiar, as did the material. It's the cloak I'm making for Jon. Sansa could hear voices of men outside, whispering. The Queen's eyes fluttered and closed, her breaths becoming shallow, she was struggling to breathe. Suddenly Sansa could feel it, the constriction in her throat, the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, she touched her own lips, which were also bloodied. Her hands were blue and she could barely keep her eyes open.
"What's happening." she looked around for Melisandre who was nowhere to be seen. Sansa began to panic, she was dying, had this all been a death dream? If so, at least she'd had one last moment with Jon. "Jon..." she whispered as everything went dark.
Suddenly she was awake, sat up screaming, her eyes wide open with terror. She took in her surroundings, she was back at Castle Black, Ghost beside her, looking on with what seemed like concern, if direwolves could look worried. Moments later, Lady Brienne opened the door, sword in hand, wearing only a tunic.
"What is it my Lady?" Brienne asked, her eyes drifting towards Ghost. "Has someone hurt you?"
Sansa shook her head. "It was a dream. A dream about my death." she began to sob, as she wrapped her arms around Ghost, who nudged her and rested his huge head against her cheek. "I'll be alright Brienne. It's just that Jon isn't here. I feel safe when he is."
Brienne lowered her sword. "Is that why you are sleeping in the same room?" she asked, Sansa nodded.
"It is the only thing that keeps the bad dreams away. But Ghost is with me." she reassured her sworn sword. "I'll be alright now, you can go back to bed." she added.
Brienne nodded. "If that is what you wish my Lady. He'll be back tomorrow." she added, closing the door behind her.
Sansa looked at Ghost carefully. "Jon, is that you?" she asked, the white direwolf rubbed his head against hers, and she knew he was with her. Comforted in the knowledge she wasn't alone, Sansa lay back down and slept dreamlessly.