Sorry for taking so long to update, but although the base idea for this chapter was rather simple, the actual writing was rather difficult for me. As I have said before, these last chapters (two more coming) are more about giving Sansa moments with people that are dear to her, than pushing the plot forward.

Reunion

As the seasons changed, so did Sansa and Gwayne's love. Nearly two years had passed since Kyra's birth, and their affection for one another had grown deeper with each passing day. The North, under Sansa's wise and diligent rule supported by Gwayne, had stabilized. The threat of famine had become a distant memory, and Winterfell had regained its former strength and prosperity.

Sansa's belly had become visibly swollen once more, a clear sign that their family was soon to grow. The anticipation and excitement of their unborn child's arrival filled the halls of Winterfell, much like the promise of spring after a long and harsh winter.

Their days were filled with the joy of anticipation. Gwayne would often place a hand on Sansa's growing bump, whispering words of love and encouragement to their child. He couldn't hide the delight in his eyes, knowing that he would soon be a father once more.

Sansa's duties as the Lady of Winterfell continued, but with each passing day, she felt more content and fulfilled. The weight of the crown she wore had only grown heavier, yet the support of Gwayne and her people had made it more bearable. Her wisdom and resilience as a ruler had earned her respect throughout the North.

As Winterfell bustled with its usual activities, a heightened sense of excitement and anticipation spread through the castle like wildfire. A raven had arrived bearing news from none other than Sansa's beloved sister, Arya Stark. The youngest of the Stark siblings had embarked on a bold adventure years ago, seeking to discover what lay west of Westeros, a journey that had kept her away for three long years.

The news of Arya's imminent return stirred the hearts of those who had missed her dearly. Sansa felt a surge of joy and longing to be reunited with her sister. Gwayne, though he hadn't known Arya as intimately as Sansa did, shared in her anticipation. The entire castle was abuzz with whispers and excitement, each person eagerly awaiting the return of the adventurous Stark.

Preparations for Arya's return were underway. The great hall was adorned with banners bearing the direwolf sigil of House Stark, and Winterfell's best chefs worked tirelessly to prepare a grand feast to welcome Arya home. The sounds of hammers echoed through the castle as repairs and beautifications were hurriedly made to ensure everything was perfect for her arrival.

Sansa couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions—excitement, happiness, and a tinge of anxiety. She longed to see her sister again, to hear tales of Arya's adventures and discoveries. Gwayne, witnessing Sansa's emotions, offered his unwavering support, assuring her that the reunion would be a joyous occasion for everyone.

The great day of Arya's return finally arrived, and the entire castle of Winterfell buzzed with excitement. A small party of loyal Stark bannermen and guards had been dispatched to accompany Arya on her journey, and they were the first to spot the familiar turrets of Winterfell in the distance.

Arya rode at the head of the group, her steely determination matched by the wolfish grin that played on her lips. She had grown taller and leaner during her travels, her clothing showing the wear and tear of her adventures.

As they approached the gates of Winterfell, Arya couldn't help but feel a flutter of nervous excitement. Her emotions were a swirling mixture of anticipation and uncertainty, even though she had yearned for this moment. She looked back at the small group of riders who had accompanied her, her trusty companions in her long journey.

Sansa stood at the gates, her red hair woven into a simple braid, her pregnant belly unmistakably prominent. She was clad in a beautiful gown of deep blue, a colour that brought out the warmth of her eyes. Her face was radiant with the joy of anticipation, but she couldn't hide the nervousness that fluttered within her heart.

As Arya's horse neared the castle gates, Sansa's excitement grew with each pounding hoofbeat. She watched with eager anticipation as her sister drew nearer, the distance between them steadily shrinking. The soft rustling of Sansa's skirts heightened the sense of expectancy, and her heart raced as she prepared to embrace Arya after so many years apart.

When Arya finally dismounted her horse, the sisters locked eyes. A brilliant smile blossomed on Sansa's lips, her eyes shimmering with tears of joy and relief. In an instant, they were wrapped in a tight embrace, laughter and tears intermingling. It was a reunion that had been years in the making, and the emotions they had held back over the years were finally free to surface.

"Arya, you're back," Sansa exclaimed, her voice filled with pure, unadulterated joy. She held Arya at arm's length, studying her sister's face to commit every detail to memory. "I've missed you so much."

Arya returned her sister's gaze, her expression a mix of tenderness and amazement. She was about to say something, but then her sharp eyes caught sight of Sansa's protruding belly. Her voice was filled with awe and a hint of surprise when she spoke.

"Sansa," Arya breathed, her voice softening. "You're... you're with child?"

Sansa's smile widened, her hand instinctively moving to rest on her abdomen, where she felt the gentle stirrings of new life. She nodded, a deep well of warmth and love in her eyes as she looked at Arya.

"Yes, Arya. Gwayne and I are expecting our second child," Sansa replied, her voice a mix of pride and joy. "So much has changed since you left."

Arya's wolfish grin, so characteristic of her, returned. She leaned in and, without hesitation, gave her sister's belly an affectionate pat, her touch both gentle and reverent. "Well, this is a wonderful surprise," Arya admitted. "I can't wait to meet my new niece or nephew. You've created a family, Sansa."

Sansa's eyes sparkled with gratitude as she placed a hand on Arya's cheek, her touch warm and familiar. "You're a part of this family too, Arya," she said earnestly, her voice filled with love. "I'm so glad you're back." Hugging her again.

As Sansa and Arya continued to share their embrace, it felt like the years of separation melted away. When they finally broke apart, the sisters exchanged knowing smiles and a few more tears. The bond between them was unbreakable, and it was as if they had never been apart.

They walked hand in hand back into the castle courtyard. Gwayne, with Kyra by his side, stood waiting for Sansa, his expression a mix of anticipation and warmth. Their daughter, barely two years old, clung to his leg with one arm while holding his hand with the other. Her eyes were wide, taking in the new face that had entered her world.

Sansa introduced her sister with joy in her voice. "Arya, this is my husband, Lord Gwayne Massey, and our precious daughter, Kyra."

Gwayne smiled warmly, his eyes filled with genuine happiness. He extended a hand to Arya in greeting. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Arya. Sansa has told me so much about you. We're both thrilled that you've returned."

Arya shook Gwayne's hand with a firm grip, and her eyes studied him carefully. "It's good to meet you too, Lord Gwayne. It seems clear that you make my sister very happy."

Sansa beamed at the exchange, her heart warmed by the meeting of her beloved sister and her dear husband. Kyra, sensing the atmosphere, looked up at Arya and Gwayne with a curious and bright expression, seemingly eager to meet the new face in her family.

At that moment, under the warm sun of Winterfell, surrounded by family, Sansa felt her heart swell with love and contentment. It was a reunion she had longed for, and now that it had finally come to pass, it was even more beautiful than she had imagined.

Sansa chuckled as Arya knelt down to Kyra's level, her fingers wiggling in the air as she made funny faces. Kyra's eyes widened with fascination as she observed her aunt's playful antics. Arya's ability to captivate her niece was evident as Kyra's initial shyness melted away into giggles.

Arya's silliness soon had Kyra in peals of laughter, her tiny hands clapping in delight. The courtyard echoed with the sound of their shared mirth. Sansa watched with a heart full of joy as her sister and daughter bonded in this light-hearted moment. It was a beautiful sight, and it reinforced the happiness that had enveloped her life since Arya's return and her growing family with Gwayne.

As the laughter subsided and Arya straightened up, she ruffled Kyra's hair playfully. "Well, little Kyra, it seems you're going to be stuck with your weird Aunt Arya and her silly faces."

Sansa smiled warmly and added, "She's going to love having you around, Arya. Just like I do."

Kyra, still grinning from ear to ear, held out her tiny arms toward Arya. In a heartbeat, Arya scooped up her niece, cradling her with an affectionate kiss on the cheek.

Arya looked at Kyra with a soft expression and said, "I'm going to spoil you, little one. Just wait and see."

The image of her sister and her daughter together filled Sansa's heart with a profound sense of contentment. Her family had grown and evolved in wonderful ways, and she felt blessed to have these two in her life.

As the warm, golden sun hung low in the sky, casting a gentle light across the courtyard of Winterfell, Sansa turned to Arya with a curious glint in her eyes. "Arya, you must be tired from your long journey. We can sit down and catch up inside. I'm sure you have many stories to share."

Arya grinned at her sister. "That's true, I do. But first, I want to hear everything about how you and Gwayne met. You know, I missed the whole courtship since I was off exploring the unknown. And what's this I hear about you being a queen now?"

Sansa's smile was radiant, and she took Arya's arm. "Yes, so much has changed, Arya. Come, let's find a cosy spot in the solar. There's a lot to tell."

With Kyra still in Gwayne's arms, the three of them made their way into the heart of Winterfell, where a comfortable room with a large window awaited them. They settled in, and Arya's eyes sparkled with anticipation.

Sansa began her tale, recounting the fateful meeting at court, the conversations in the castle gardens, the dances during the tourney of the singers, the mutual respect that grew into love, and how Gwayne had won the hearts of not just Sansa, but also her loyal subjects. The story was filled with warmth, humour, and the blossoming of love in the unlikeliest of places.

Arya listened with rapt attention, hanging on to every word. "You mean to tell me that my dear sister met her love in the castle gardens like a character in a song? That's quite the tale. I'm glad you found a man that provides you the love and comfort you deserve."

Sansa chuckled. "It felt like a song, Arya. He's been nothing but a loving and devoted partner."

Gwayne added his perspective to the story, describing his journey to Winterfell, his initial worries, and how he found himself falling for Sansa, not just for her beauty but for her strength and intelligence.

Kyra, who had been quietly listening, looked up at Arya and stretched out her little arms, indicating that she wanted to be held by her aunt. Arya obliged and cradled Kyra with a fond smile. "And this is the little bundle of joy that's come out of this love story?"

Sansa nodded. "Yes, Kyra is our treasure, and she'll have a little brother or sister soon."

Arya's expression shifted to one of awe and delight. "Sansa, I've missed so much. You've built a beautiful life here, and I couldn't be happier for you."

The reunion continued as the sisters shared stories of their adventures and experiences, and Arya marvelled at the changes that had taken place in her absence.

As they settled in, Arya's eyes took on a distant glimmer, a reflection of the vast and unknown world she had encountered. "It's been a journey of discovery, Sansa. After the events in King's Landing, I knew I wanted to explore, to see what lay beyond the known seas. And what I found was beyond anything I could have imagined."

With an air of storytellers of old, Arya began to weave her tale. She described islands with black-sand beaches, shrouded in mystery and untold stories. The ruins of once-great civilizations stood silent, bearing witness to a history lost in the annals of time. The crew ventured there, seeking to cultivate the land and unlock its secrets, but the land resisted their efforts. It was a haunting place, whispering forgotten tales, yet rejecting the touch of new life.

"We tried, Sansa," Arya said with a rueful smile. "But some lands seem to guard their secrets too closely, and the soil refused to yield. So, we set sail once more, guided by the winds and currents, until we reached a green land."

Her words carried the weight of adventure and exploration. "The new land was fertile, but the winds were fierce, and the nights were colder than we anticipated. It was a challenge, but there was something special about that place, something that spoke of resilience and untamed beauty."

Arya shared tales of their interactions with the strange animals inhabiting these distant lands, the hardships they faced, and the unexpected encounters that enriched their journey. She painted vivid images of landscapes unknown to those in the North, of flora and fauna unlike anything seen in Westeros.

"As much as I wanted to stay, to tame the land and make it our own, it wasn't meant to be. The journey back was long and arduous, filled with uncertainty and the ever-changing whims of the seas. But, despite it all, it was a journey I wouldn't trade for anything."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the Winterfell courtyard, Sansa, Arya, and Gwayne continued their exchange of stories. The warmth of the hearth in the great hall beckoned them, and they gathered around a table laden with the bounty of the North.

Arya's tales seamlessly blended with Gwayne's accounts of the North's recovery and Sansa's efforts to ensure its prosperity. Laughter echoed through the hall as they reminisced about shared memories and moments that shaped their individual journeys.

Kyra, now nestled in Gwayne's lap, listened with wide-eyed wonder as her aunt and parents painted vivid images of distant lands and the resilience of those who called them home. The flickering candlelight danced in Arya's eyes as she spoke of the people she'd met, the challenges faced, and the uncharted territories she'd explored.

Sansa found herself enchanted by the richness of Arya's experiences. Her sister had become a true explorer, a wanderer of realms beyond the maps of Westeros. Gwayne, too, was drawn into the narrative, his eyes reflecting admiration for the courage and tenacity Arya displayed.

As the night deepened, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, with tales of childhood escapades and amusing anecdotes. They savoured hearty stews, freshly baked bread, and mugs of mulled wine, the aroma of the feast mingling with the warmth of camaraderie.

In those shared moments, Winterfell resonated with the joy of reunion. The Stark siblings, now grown and weathered by the trials of life, found solace in the familiarity of each other's company. Arya, the wild wolf, had returned to the pack, and the bonds of family were reaffirmed in the heart of the North.

Gwayne, cradling the sleepy Kyra in his arms, excused himself and left the great hall, guided by the soft glow of torchlight. The journey to their chambers was a short one, and as he tucked Kyra into her small bed, she mumbled drowsy words and hugged a plush direwolf toy close, that Jeyne had skilfully sewn together using wool and pieces of fur. Gwayne lingered for a moment, savouring the innocence and warmth that surrounded his young daughter.

Back in the great hall, Sansa and Arya found themselves in the quiet aftermath of the revelry. The hearth crackled with fading embers, casting a gentle glow over the room. Wine cups in hand, they retreated to a more secluded corner, where they could speak freely.

Arya's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she leaned forward, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. "Now, Sansa," she teased, "tell me more about this Gwayne. How did you go from the Lady of Winterfell to a woman with a husband and child? What's he like when he's not busy being the Master of Coin?"

Sansa chuckled, the warmth of the wine adding a rosy tint to her cheeks. "Oh, Gwayne," she began, her voice softening with affection. "He's unlike anyone I've ever known. Steadfast, caring, and dedicated. When we first met, I was dealing with the aftermath of the Long Night, and he was a beacon of support. We faced challenges together, and as time passed, our bond deepened."

Arya raised an eyebrow, her gaze playful yet curious. "And in those quieter moments, away from the court and council meetings, what's he like?"

Sansa's smile was soft and knowing, a tender glow in her eyes. "He's a gentle soul, Arya. We spend time sharing stories, dreaming of the future, and laughter fills the air. He's embraced the role of a father to Kyra with such tenderness. There's a comforting warmth in his presence that brings me solace."

Arya's grin widened, teasingly. "Come on, Sansa. I meant in the privacy of your chambers. Is he charming there too?"

Sansa blushed furiously under Arya's cheeky grin. "Arya, please, such matters are private!" But the wine had loosened her tongue, and Arya's curiosity was not so easily dissuaded.

"Come now, we're family. And it's been so long since we could speak as we used to. Does he treat you well between the furs?"

Sansa took a long drink to hide her face. "He is... tender. And skilled at stoking the fire within me till I think I might burst." Arya's brows rose in delight. "Skilled, is he? Pray tell, what tricks does he use to reduce the Lady of Winterfell to a quivering mess?"

Her sister's gasp was scandalized, though her eyes glittered. "Arya, please! It is not seemly to...oh very well. His hands and mouth know just where to kindle my flames. And when he enters me, filling me so completely..." She flushed anew. "Let us speak of different things. This talk would shame me come the morning."

Arya's grin softened into a genuine smile. "Well, sister, it seems you've found your own kind of adventure. The kind that happens in the quiet spaces between the grand events. I'm happy for you."

Sansa chuckled, the embarrassment dissipating into a sense of shared sisterhood. "Thank you, Arya. It's different from what I imagined, but it's beautiful in its own way. He's a partner in every sense of the word."

Sansa's gaze turned curious, a sense of longing mingling with hope as she looked at her sister. "Arya, are you planning to stay in Winterfell for a while? I've missed having you here."

Arya's expression turned unusually hesitant, a rare moment of uncertainty flitting across her features before she met Sansa's gaze. "I... I'm not sure, Sansa. I've thought about it, but there's something I need to do."

A shadow passed over Sansa's features, her brows furrowing in concern. "What is it, Arya? You can always talk to me."

Arya sighed, her eyes searching Sansa's face. "I've thought about heading south... to Storm's End."

Sansa's eyes widened in surprise. "To Storm's End? Why?"

Arya hesitated, her fingers tracing the rim of her goblet. "Gendry,. He's now Lord of Storm's End."

Sansa's curiosity piqued, smirking teasingly. "Gendry? What would you do there?"

Arya shrugged, a wistful smile playing on her lips. "I don't know, Sansa. Maybe just visit an old friend, see how things are, and share tales of our journeys. Maybe rekindle old flames, I miss him terribly"

Sansa's eyes sparkled with mischief as she playfully teased Arya about Gendry. "You know, Arya, Gendry has sent letters to Winterfell more than once. He's asked about you. Seems like he'd be more than happy if you would visit him."

Arya's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "Letters? From Gendry?"

Sansa chuckled, nodding. "Yes, Arya. It seems our Lord of Storm's End is still intrigued by the fearless Arya Stark."

Arya's lips curled into a half-smile, a mix of curiosity and amusement in her eyes. "What did he say?"

Sansa feigned innocence. "Oh, you know, the usual lordly inquiries about the well-being of the remnants of the Stark family. But I could sense an undercurrent of genuine interest."

Arya's gaze narrowed, sceptical yet intrigued. "Genuine interest, or your matchmaking tendencies at play?"

Sansa laughed, her tone light. "Perhaps a bit of both. But, Arya, I genuinely believe Gendry is a good man. Strong, kind, and respectful of your adventurous spirit. You could do worse."

Arya tilted her head, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Is this you trying to play matchmaker, Sansa?"

Sansa raised an eyebrow in mock innocence. "Me? Matchmaker? Never. I'm just saying, if you decide to visit Storm's End, you might find a more kindred spirit than you think."

Arya's laughter filled the room, and she gave Sansa a knowing look. "You're a hopeless romantic, Sansa. But fine, I'll do it. A visit won't hurt, right?"

Sansa grinned. "That's the spirit, Arya. Just promise to bring back some interesting tales for your overly curious sister."

The flickering torchlight danced on the stone walls as Sansa and Arya made their way through the quiet corridors of Winterfell. The castle, steeped in history and the memories of their family, seemed to embrace the Stark sisters in its protective walls. As they approached Arya's chamber, Sansa couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment, the bond with her sister stronger than ever.

Once inside Arya's room, Sansa looked around with a hint of nostalgia. The familiarity of Winterfell's architecture, the scent of the castle, and the subdued sounds of the night outside created an atmosphere of peace.

As they stood in the dimly lit chamber, Sansa turned to Arya, her expression softening. "It's good to have you back, Arya. I've missed you more than words can say."

Arya, usually reserved with her emotions, met Sansa's gaze with a genuine warmth. "And I've missed you, Sansa. Winterfell feels more like home with you here."

Sansa, despite the slight exhaustion from the day, pulled Arya into a tight embrace. Her belly, carrying the promise of new life, pressed gently against Arya. Sansa kissed Arya's forehead, her voice filled with sincerity. "I'm so happy you're back. You don't know how much it means to me."

Arya, ever the pragmatic one, responded with a smirk. "Well, you're stuck with me now, Sansa. No getting rid of the fearless Arya Stark."

Sansa chuckled, releasing her sister from the embrace. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

As they prepared to part for the night, Sansa lingered at the door. She held Arya's hands in hers, the bond of sisterhood palpable in the air. "Sleep well, Arya. Tomorrow is a new day, and I'm eager to hear more about your adventures."

Arya nodded, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And perhaps I'll consider that visit to Storm's End. If only to satisfy your curiosity, dear sister."

Sansa laughed, her voice echoing in the corridor. "I knew I could count on you, Arya. Goodnight, and sweet dreams."

It was an odd mixture of emotions that swirled within Sansa, a few moons later, upon reading Arya's letter. A part of her heart was elated, knowing that her younger sister had found joy in reuniting with Gendry. Another part felt a pang of longing, wishing for Arya's presence in Winterfell.

Sansa re-read the letter, her fingers tracing over the familiar words penned by Arya's hand. Gendry. Storm's End. Sansa couldn't help but smile at the thought of Arya and Gendry finding their way back to each other after all those years apart. The mention of a prolonged stay caused a tinge of sorrow to echo within Sansa's heart, for it meant that Arya's return to Winterfell might be delayed.

Gwayne, noticing the change in Sansa's demeanour, looked up from his own correspondence. "Is everything alright, my lady?"

Sansa glanced up, a mixture of emotions flickering in her eyes. "It's Arya," she began, her voice tinged with both happiness and a hint of longing. "She's reunited with Gendry in Storm's End. They've rekindled their relationship, and she intends to stay there for a while."

Gwayne placed a reassuring hand on Sansa's shoulder. "Arya will always find her way back to us. Storm's End may have its charms, but Winterfell is home to her."

Sansa nodded, grateful for Gwayne's comforting words. "Yes, you're right. And she promised to visit."

A bittersweet smile graced Sansa's lips as she folded the letter and gently placed it back into its envelope. She couldn't help but feel a mix of happiness for Arya and a twinge of emptiness at her absence. Yet, the promise of Arya's future visits was a glimmer of hope that filled the corridors of Winterfell with anticipation.

With a sigh, Sansa leaned back in her seat, the flickering candlelight casting a soft glow on her face. "I suppose Winterfell will be awaiting her return eagerly," she murmured, her thoughts wandering to the memories of her dear sister and the adventures that awaited them when Arya would grace their halls once again.

After taking a deep breath, Sansa walked over to Gwayne and sat down on his lap; he immediately enveloped her in a warm embrace, offering comfort amidst the swirl of emotions that Arya's letter had stirred within her. She leaned back against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart and relishing the sense of security he provided.

As she nestled in Gwayne's arms, Sansa's gaze wandered to the window, where the moon cast a soft glow over Winterfell's courtyard. A sigh escaped her lips, a mixture of contentment and wistfulness. "I miss them, Gwayne," she admitted, her voice carrying a hint of melancholy. "Arya, Jon, Bran, and Rickon. I wish they were all here, sharing these moments with us."

Gwayne tightened his hold, his voice a soothing murmur against her ear. "They're a part of you, Sansa, just as you are a part of them. No matter where they are, your family is always with you."

Sansa nodded, appreciating Gwayne's understanding. Yet, a yearning for a reunion lingered in her heart. "I was thinking," she began, turning in Gwayne's arms to meet his gaze, "of seeking Lord Sigorn Thenn's help. He has ties beyond the Wall. I want to find Jon, to see him again."

Gwayne studied Sansa's expression, his eyes reflecting both concern and support. "It's a perilous journey, my lady. Beyond the Wall is not a forgiving place."

"I know," Sansa replied, determination colouring her voice. "But Jon is my brother, and I miss him. I want to bring him back to Winterfell, back to family."

Gwayne pressed a gentle kiss to Sansa's forehead. "Then, we shall find a way. I'll stand by you, Sansa, in whatever path you choose."

Sansa smiled, grateful for Gwayne's unwavering support. With a newfound resolve, she rested against him, envisioning a future where Winterfell's halls echoed with the laughter and presence of all those she held dear. The journey to reunite the scattered threads of her family, particularly Jon beyond the Wall, became a purpose she embraced with both hope and determination.

Originally, I wanted to finish this story this year, but I took much longer than I thought and with the end of the year approaching quickly I don't think I will be updating again this year. So, I wish all of you Happy Holidays and all the best in the new year.

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