Here, have this.
Reviews and criticism are welcome.
Disclaimer: I don't own ASOIAF.
A/N I had this chapter mostly done when I released the first one. I figured that I would finish it and release it before knuckling down and working on Flamekeeper.
Six Months Later.
Jon
The forge wasn't as big as he expected when all was said and done. He supposed they didn't want to build anything more robust in case the hammer Sansa designed up wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Not that Jon hoped it would be a failure. He still remembered that hug she gave him. While he found it odd, he could feel it was some sort of apology for neglecting him. That horse's kick really seemed to rip out Lady Starks hooks. It did make him regret scaring her in the Winterfell Crypts that one time.
Mikken seemed rather excited back when he had cast the pieces of iron into shape using the molds Sansa designed. It took him some time to get the molds right. Maester Luwin helped there, ensuring the measurements were precise as dictated by Sansa's notes. Some weren't sure when they started this. There were whispers that Sansa was crazy as well as dull. Once the parts were properly cast, Mikken announced that he was seeing the shape of what the little Lady meant. That killed some of those whispers. Then the pieces were hauled to the spot they picked out on the White Knife.
Robb and he had helped quite a bit in the construction where they could. Robb despite only being eleven was proving to be an effective coordinator and hard worker so much that Steward Poole let him run things more. Jon himself had become an errand boy for the carpenters and blacksmiths. He didn't mind. Theon, of course, used any excuse to get out of work and go hunt. As much as everyone knew it was to get out of the hard work, he did bring back his fresh kills for the stew pot so many let it slide.
So when the day came that Mikken pronounced the powerhammer done, Jon felt rather excited. The waterwheel was released and Mikken, with a preheated piece of steel, set his foot on the pedal that engaged the clutch, letting the gear turn, lifting the hammer up and slam down over and over again automatically while a crowd of workers looked on as best they could being crowded in the entrance of the small shack.
Mikken wasn't prone to much emotion, but when he found a rhythm to the hammer. He cried out in joy. He forged a dagger in the span of an hour. All one had to do to stop the hammer was take his foot off the clutch. It was truly an amazing piece of equipment.
It wasn't long for them to send a message to Lord Stark. Around two hours later, Mikken had reforged another dagger. He took his time with this one. The first dagger was even thrown in the scrap barrel to melt down later. Mikken was really sizing up the machine. He would stop and check the smaller cast iron gears every so often.
Lord Stark rode up surrounded by his sworn swords, and dismounted. Sansa was with them to no one's surprise. She rode the horse up, and Robb went up to her horse and helped her down. Over the past few months, Sansa had gotten more sure-footed in the past year. It was a tough recovery, but she could speak full sentences again. Her bright red hair was a bit ruffled. Though there were moments when she would forget what she said part way through a conversation and wonder.
Despite that, she never really talked much. Maester Luwin said it may take a few years for her head to be fully healed. What really surprised Jon was that Sansa was riding the same mare that kicked her. He did hear that Ser Jory used to own the rust colored horse, but had sold it. He rode a gray gelding now. She reached up and plucked a large satchel of the horse.
"Well Robb, let's see it? Father said. Robb pointed at the forge, which sounded loudly from the inside of the shack.
"He has been working in the forge ever since we let the water wheel spin."
Father passed Jon. He smiled. "Jon, you seem proud."
Jon was about to reply when Mikken cut him off. "Aye, the bastard should be. He and your heir are the reason this place was up so quickly, Milord." The Blacksmith said as he walked out of the forge. Jon bristled at being called a bastard, but no one paid him any mind. "Pardon me milord for not being here to greet you. The hammer-"
Father cut him off, "No need, I doubt you could hear my approach above the noise."
"Aye. I'll show you and you brought your girl. Good. She should be here." Mikken said as he ushered them in.
They were led into the forge and Mikken gestured for them to stand back a bit because of the sparks. Mikken grabbed a flesh piece of heated steel from the pit and began to work. Mikken had begun to master the hammer's rhythm and was able to flatten out the steel in no time. It was quite the show. The hammer clanged along and Mikken kept forging, completely oblivious to the world around him.
After a while Mikken would fold the steel and flatten it again to work out bad metal. He did this three more times before setting it back in the fire pit and walking up to Sansa.
"I had my misgivings at first, but you made up a damn fine hammer. Were you a boy, you would have no doubt been sent to the Citadel by now." Jon noted Sansa nod, seeming to take the complement in stride.
"Aye," Father said. "I am glad it worked. I thank you for putting this machine together for Sansa's sake." Father put his hand on Sansa's shoulder and she smiled up at him. Then she seemed to remember something.
She held up the large satchel. She looked at Father. He bent down and she whispered something in his ear. He smiled and shook his head. "Fine, but be sure it is something Mikken can work on in his spare time. The forge will have to work back the money spent on the hammer."
"That shouldn't be a problem Milord." Mikken said proudly. Father nodded and led both him and Robb from the forge.
"What was that about?" Robb asked father.
"Sansa said it was a surprise for the family." Jon felt a bit down. While Sansa had been a lot nicer to him, rather than apathetic. Jon knew deep down whatever surprise she had in sure wasn't for him. Sansa exited a moment later, and Jory and the other men who rode with took turns to see the new hammer. It looked like the small village around the forge would be built up properly now. Robb would come to see it as a personal project. Jon admitted he felt a bit invested in the forge as well.
Still, it would be good to get back to Winterfell. It would be nice to see Arya again and the boys. Though he had to admit not having the watchful eye of Catelyn Stark hounding his steps was nice while it lasted.
Two Months Later
Arya
She found today to be especially boring. It was raining out. A cold rain that would last half a day and make it muddy for two. That meant she couldn't go see Sansa's forge. She had been begging to go, but Mother wouldn't let her. Father had no reason to go either with his duties to the North as a whole taking up most of his time. Robb went every so often as he felt it had become his project and his responsibility, Mother specifically told Robb and Jon not to take her. Mother knew Arya's tricks when it came to getting around things. Jon liked Arya enough to risk Lady Stark's wrath sometimes, but he couldn't ignore a direct command from the Lady of Winterfell.
There wouldn't be much point in ditching Septa Mordane's lessons either as Bran's bow practice would be canceled while the rain was going.
"Where is Sansa?" Mother asked.
Arya didn't know so she shrugged. She saw Robb do the same as did Bran. Baby Rickon just birbled.
Mother looked to Father. He just smiled as he shrugged too. It was as if on cue that Sansa entered into a side door. She was in full winter gear, which she shed and lay in a nice pile. It had kept her dress from getting wet but she was still sweaty, and her hair was especially frazzled. She looked rather excited. She made her way up to Father. He simply raised an eyebrow.
"You were out in the rain? Why in the Seven Kingdoms would you be out there. You could have caught a chill." Mother's words were harsh.
Sansa tipped her head to the side as if it was obvious. "I was going to fetch something."
"What would that be?" Mother eyed Sansa.
"Gifts I had Mikken make for you all. They arrived yesterday and I hid them so the surprise wouldn't be ruined. I had to be sure the rain didn't harm their finish. I wasn't expecting rain." Her voice was so matter of fact.
"I remember now." Father said. "Fine, let us see what all the fuss was about."
Sansa seemed nervous but she reached into the large satchel at her side. It had become one of her staple items of clothing in the last year. She rifled through the pack and pulled out a dagger. She checked it before handing it to Father. She went over Robb next, and handed him one as well. She set one down for Bran. She pulled out a knife for Rickon and laid it next to Bran's on the table. Arya knew there was no way Sansa had made a dagger for her.
Father had unsheathed his blade and was inspecting it. The blade was around eight inches long and an inch and half wide. The ivory handle had a silver Direwolf engraved in the side of the hilt. It was a beautiful blade, single edged with a swept tip that was still inline with the blade. It looked functional as well as deadly.
"This is a beautiful blade. Not just for hunting either. This would be a formidable weapon to pull out in a fight." Father clearly knew a few ways the blade would be used outside of hunting if the way he held it was any indication.
"I wanted to make a blade that would do it all. War knife and hunting knife. Even field cooking to an extent." Sansa said.
"How much did they cost?" Mother said.
"I considered it a marketing expense. We Starks should be seen as proud to wield weapons from our new forge."
"Sansa is right." Father said as he resheathed the blade in the sheath. "And I'd trust anything with Mikken's mark on it."
Sansa walked up to mother and handed her a set of knitting needles. One had a direwolf emblazoned on it and the other a trout of Mother's house, Tully of the Riverlands. They were really nice for a set of girly knitting needles, Arya supposed. Mother seemed to examine them closely. She seemed to relent after deciding she liked them.
Sansa went to Arya and offered her the same. Only both of these had a silver Direwolf emblazoned in them like Father's and Robb's. It ran on a field of white like the boy's. She looked up at Sansa who winked. Arya shook her head and accepted the gift. While she didn't like all the lady stuff, she could appreciate the fine workmanship.
After breakfast, Sansa left to go someplace other than lessons for once. Arya followed. It was the tiltyard where Jon was practicing under a wooden awning where the ground was drier than the rest of the yard. The rain had let up becoming a drizzle. She watched as her sister called Jon who was practicing swordplay against a dummy. They stopped and Jon approached. Arya risked getting closer to see what Sansa was doing.
"Good morning Jon," Sansa said nicely. Sansa looked genuinely interested in Jon's welfare, Before the accident Sansa didn't even really acknowledge Jon's existence. No doubt due to Mother's and Mordane's influence.
"Morning Sansa." Jon was still a bit awkward around her. "What was it you wished to talk about?" Sansa looked around. Arya just managed to hide from her gaze.
"Not here. This way." She led Jon all the way to the Tower of the First Keep. A broken and dilapidated building, it was the oldest structure in the castle. Her sister made sure to avoid the more muddier spots to avoid getting too much mud on her dress. Arya felt no such qualms as she walked, going where she had to in order to avoid their gaze.
Arya followed and found a spot to hide around a bit of rubble. Sansa hadn't noticed her yet.
"I have something for you." Sansa opened up her satchel and pulled another dagger like the ones she gave Father, Robb, and her other brothers. There was a white wolf inlay into the ebony handle that matched their trueborn brothers, silver and ivory ones in reverse colors.
Jon reluctantly took it. He unsheathed it, admiring the blade. After a moment he looked up at her as he resheathed the knife.
"Thank you Sansa." Sansa hugged him and whispered something in his ear.
Jon seemed surprised, but otherwise recovered quickly. Then he smiled.
"You can come out Arya." Jon said.
It was Arya's turn to be surprised. Sansa looked unsurprised and rolled her eyes.
"How did you know?" Arya was confused.
"Your shadow." Jon pointed, and Arya looked down, seeing a bit of light had escaped the clouds and betrayed her. Jon gave her an amused smirk.
Arya frowned. While the knitting needles were nice. Arya crossed her arms. How come only the boys got the knives?
Sansa for her part raised an eyebrow. "Is this about the needles?"
Arya's frown deepened and she glared in response.
Sansa shook her head and offered her hand. "Let me see one of them."
Arya handed her one.
Sansa felt the weight. "I don't see what the problem is. It is weighted and balanced perfectly." She deftly twirled it through her fingers. Arya had never known her sister was that dexterous.
"What does weight and balance have to do with knitting needles?" Jon asked curiously.
Sansa answered by whipping the knitting needle and it stuck firming, embedded into a wooden beam sticking out of the Tower of the First Keep.
"Oh, you know. It's easy on the fingers."
Arya was stunned. When did Sansa learn to do that?
Jon went over and pulled the needle out. He looked over the needle, appraising it and feeling the weight.
"Aye, any bandit that managed to get within throwing distance of you will have a bad day." He handed the needle back to Arya.
"More like his last, but hopefully it never comes to that. One must never let it fall to chance. For unless you stack the deck, the cards will never fall your way." Sansa said as she found herself looking up at the sky briefly. Arya had no clue what she was talking about.
She then reached down and opened her satchel once again. She pulled out a blade similar to the blade the boys had gotten. She handed it to Arya.
"I wasn't going to hand you this in front of Mother. So make sure you hide well." Arya held the dagger gently. She looked up at Sansa. She didn't know why, but she hugged Sansa. Sansa embraced her too.
"Meet me three hours before dawn tomorrow and I will teach you how to use it." she whispered.
"How did you learn?" Arya pulled back and asked curiously.
Sansa smirked and said. "Read an ancient training manual in the library. The pages were falling apart, but it was barely clear enough to read. Sansa dismissed the question. "There was an old book about dragons in there too. I borrowed it." Arya found it strange, but Sansa did read a lot these days.
"Remember, three hours before dawn in the Godswood." Sansa turned to Jon. "You can come too if you like?"
"I shouldn't. If we were caught together, there wouldn't be anything even Father could do to prevent your mother from kicking me out of the castle." Jon admitted.
Sansa nodded. "Well if you change your mind. Offer is still open. Bring Robb with you if you do."
With that they left to go do their daily chores and lessons. Arya couldn't help but feel giddy for the next day. Perhaps that kick to Sansa's head wasn't so bad after all. She still felt horrible, but it did seem to turn out for the better.
Sansa
About a week later, I suddenly regretted making a dagger for Arya. The bowie knives had turned out really well. Mikken had outdone himself.
Arya was too eager. But she was quick on her feet and that was good. We didn't use live blades of course. Mikken still hadn't finished my tomahawk or throwing ax as they were called in Westeros, but I believe he was waiting on some ash wood for the handle. Hickory would have been better, but I don't think Westeros had hickory. I wasn't too picky. Oak would be good too, but it was too heavy.
Jon didn't attend. It turned out he didn't need to learn from me as Ser Rodrick started drilling the boys on how to use a dagger properly. Which was good, because Arya was a handful enough.
As expected Arya was very determined to master this art. I was glad she had an outlet, it was nice to have a sparring partner. I did miss the solitude.
I did find time to draft more designs like a self scouring plow, a horse drawn pony drill, and few other things like a fountain pen. Those could wait for now. I was taking it slow with those, and worked on improvements based on Mikken's input. I visited the forge every so often. The agricultural stuff was something I wasn't certain would be the best, Last thing Westeros needed was a Dust Bowl before the Others invaded.
Other than a few tents, it was still filled with activity. We were going to find a different spot closer to Winterfell. It turned out Theon's avoidance of work bore fruit. He found a solid creek in the Wolfwood to build a spot on. The surveyors agreed. The carpenters agreed it would make a better spot to build a permanent structure.
I called the session. Arya would have liked to continue more, but I felt it best to stop now. We went back to bed mostly to cool down before we were roused.
It was white we were breaking fast where things got really interesting. Arya and I scoffed down food at an alarming rate. Something I noticed Mother that noticed. It was hard to get past her. She had stopped fussing so much around after the forge was completed and proved successful. She still gave me an odd look from time to time. She would insist on trying to brush my hair every so often. It was always so poofy. Mother was the only one who could get the cursed strand to look mildly in order.
Steward Poole announced a guest visiting from the south. That guest turned out to be Domeric Bolton. Roose's trueborn son whom Ramsey, the shitheel Bastard of the Dreadfort, had murdered before the events in the books. I wonder why he would stop here. He looked similar to how Roose was described in the books. I suspected that he was more robust due to his Ryswell mother than his Leach Lord of a father.
Domeric walked in and bowed, "My Lord."
Father inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Lord Domeric. How is your Lord father?" Ned did not think much of Roose. Nor did I, but I respected why the Starks kept the Boltons around. It was a good way to stay on our toes. The Boltons played good vassals slowly biding their time for the most part. In truth that is the nature of all vassals in some capacity.
"He is well, when last I wrote to him. I was on my way back to the Dreadfort when I heard news of a new forge. I admit I diverted my journey out of curiosity." Domeric said.
"After breaking fast we shall go and I will take you to it." Father inclined his head. "You were fostered in the Vale if I recall."
"Yes, My Lord. I have returned north for the first time since being sent to Lord Redforts court." Domeric proudly stated.
"How has Creaton been doing these past years?"
Steward Poole had some food brought for Domeric. Father and Domeric talked for two hours about the goings on in the Vale. I admit it was interesting to hear. The politics of the Vale was always one of the better aspects in the books. Domeric would tell a story of his time hanging out with the Redfort brothers and Father would add his own of his time growing up with Robert. Sometimes it was one that even we hadn't heard before.
After they had they exhausted their best stories. We saddled up. Domeric gave me a look as I mounted up as well.
"Do you normally take your daughter to a blacksmith's forge, Lord Stark?"
"Sansa was the one to draw up the plans for the power hammer." Father said. We took off.
"Truly?" Domeric was surprised. "I thought that the horse had left her less than able."
"Well even we find it hard to believe at times. Considering her head was mostly filled with air before that horse kicked her in the head." Robb smirked.
I shook my head. "I can only imagine how your attitude would improve with a good kick to the head." I retorted.
Robb laughed. Jon, who was riding next to Theon, cracked a smile as well.
Domeric was looking at me with more curiosity than before.
"What is it, My Lord?" I asked.
Domeric shook his head. "Nothing, Just my curiosity of this forge has doubled."
"I think you'll be impressed. It is still a prototype, but with Mikken's input I have been designing a more refined and better model."
"The Old Gods work in mysterious ways." Domeric said politely.
"I just wish they had a better method of delivering their wisdom." I remarked, rubbing my forehead for effect.
During the ride, Theon japed with Domeric, but I would sense that Domeric was not all too impressed with the Ironborn ward/hostage. Theon was an ass, but he did look up to Ned. Despite all that I still gifted him a dagger as well. Just in a way that would allow him to keep it without guilt of paying the gold price for it. I knew that he wanted to marry me as a way of becoming a brother to Robb, and more importantly a son to Ned. That was never going to happen. Theon had his charm, but I would be damned if I had to go anywhere near the Iron Isles.
"Not much to look at from the outside." Domeric noted.
"It's temporary," Robb said. "We are looking for a spot closer to Winterfell. Theon found a good spot that is equal distance from Winterfell and Cerwyn." Robb's voice was professional as he explained the details of the building so far. Domeric seemed impressed.
We lead Domeric to the Forge. Not that he needed leading, the sound was hard to miss the more we got closer.
The Forge had some lean to's added on. It looked like a storage for wood and charcoal. As for the hammer itself, I noted the improvements were working well. I was experimenting with different gear sizes to get the timing better. So far things were looking good.
"Ahh, what do we have here milord?" Mikken gave a quick nod, but continued working.
"Lord Domeric here, wished to see the new power hammer."
Mikken nodded to the young lord. "Milord." Mikken went over the basics of how it worked for Domeric. The young Bolton was intrigued and clearly impressed.
After watching Mikken work the hammer for some time, Lord Stark and Domeric left. I stayed and wrote down various improvements Mikken himself thought was best to add. I asked about which types of grease tend to last the longest on the moving parts. He mentioned the stuff from White Harbor was doing the best. I thanked the old Blacksmith and left. Domeric, Robb, and Theon were also conversing.
We left the tented town, not long after. I found myself riding beside Domeric. He was looking at Robb and Jon talking to each other. Theon would chime in with a jape. Robb and Jon were having a good conversation.
"Something wrong?" I asked.
"Robb and Jon seem to get along like the Redforts. I find that I long for such camaraderie between brothers."
"You are an only child if I recall."
"Not for lack of trying on my Father and Mother's part." Right Domeric had many stillborn brothers. "I do have a bastard brother." I stiffened. Domeric noticed.
"Nothing, it is not my place to spread rumors." I said. Domeric of course pressed.
"What is it?"
"Even down here rumors spread. The Bastard of Dreadfort is terror. I shouldn't fill your head with rumors. However I find that I am compelled to warn you that he may not be the brother you dream about having." I flashed him a smile. Domeric seemed to stiffen like a deer in the headlights and I feared I pushed him more into going to see Ramsey. "Then again, it might just be rumors." I said dismissively and he nodded.
"I shall see for myself." It was what I feared. Damn. He will end up going to see Ramsey and die.
The young Flayed Lord frowned, but perhaps I seeded some doubt. I would know in a few weeks I guess.
Catelyn
Oh how her daughters vexed her. Catelyn found herself having to listen to Septa Mordane complain about Arya again. It was the usual fare. She doesn't listen or apply herself like the other girls. She runs off the first chance she gets. That being said, even Mordane had conceded that Arya wasn't acting up nearly as much as she was. Catelyn could only wonder what the cause was. It must have had to do with how tired she was in the mornings. Catelyn would have to investigate.
She didn't have to wonder for long. The Lady of Winterfell already knew the cause. Sansa. Her daughter wasn't the same after the accident. Oh the horror she still felt as Sansa was brought to Maester Luwin unconscious and nearly lifeless if it wasn't for the fact she still had breath, she would have thought her sweet girl dead.
It still gave her nightmares. The hollow look in Sansa's eyes, the weeks after she awoke. Then one day she seemed to awaken a second time just as Catelyn was getting used to her daughter's condition.
Some said that the old Gods blessed her, or the few faithful to the Seven said she was blessed with the Crone's wisdom and Smith's Insight. Despite that honor, Cat couldn't help but feel her daughter was stolen from her. The Gods take as much as they give. It wasn't just a head injury like Ned and Luwin claimed. Still she felt that Sansa was too different.
She was taken from her thoughts as Maester Luwin met her in the hallway.
"Lady Stark." He bowed slightly.
"Maester Luwin. What brings you this way?"
"I was going to ask Sansa if she could let me see those power hammer drawings. Colleagues from the Citadel have expressed interest in the design." Luwin said with an almost annoyed tone.
"Did you write to them about the hammer?" It made sense he would.
"No, but once word moves through White Harbor, the whole world knows what is happening in the North." He said. Catelyn could only nod at that. White Harbor was the North's only port, and real connection to the outside world.
"What are your thoughts on the new hammer?" Cat asked.
"A marvel, but Sansa still doesn't seem satisfied with the original design. She and Mikken both have been working on improvements. Perhaps you should accompany me?" He asked.
Cat was on her way to speak to Arya, but that could wait, and she feared it would most likely end in the same way it alway had been. Cat would have to check on little Rickon as well and make sure Bran wasn't climbing the castle walls again.
"I will go with you." She led the way to Sansa's room. She knocked.
"Sansa,"
"Be right there, Mother." Sansa's voice said and it wasn't long before the door opened. Sansa's hair had that blasted unkempt look. Catelyn frowned. It made her daughter look like a wildling. Sansa looked up at her.
"Hello Mother." she smiled. Cat smiled back.
"I just wanted to check on you. I heard you were drawing up more on that hammer." Catelyn felt awkward. It had been this way ever since the accident.
"Not at the moment. Jeyne and Beth stopped by and we got to talking. Sansa opened the door and Catelyn saw Jeyne and Beth standing beside Sansa's bed. They bowed their heads when Cat entered the room.
It looked cleaner than it normally did. Last time Cat was here it was filled with books from the library. Her daughter's sudden interest in history was another side effect of the accident. While there were a lot of books still here, They were sitting upright on a shelf in the corner.
"What have you three been up to?"
"Organizing Sansa's mess of a room," Beth Cassel smiled. She was of more of an age with Arya but followed Sansa around due to having more in common with her. Far as Sansa's room was concerned. It looked much better.
"Ah, Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: An Unnatural History. Not the most thrilling read, but it is fascinating nonetheless." Luwin said as he meandered toward the opened text on the table.
"Yeah, We are very lucky that Winterfell had a copy. Very hard to come by."
"Indeed, King Baelor the Blessed had most of the copies burned. Luckily, the Starks of that time didn't care much for a King a step away from banning the Old Gods and ignored him."
Cat didn't like the sound of her daughter reading such works, but Luwin seemed to approve of her choice. Luwin was a trustworthy man. He would know if the books Sansa had been reading were something truly harmful. So Cat let the matter rest.
"So what was it you wished to speak of?" Sansa asked.
"Your power hammer plans. The Citadel heard of them and wished for me to send a copy. I came to ask if you were willing to part with them?" Cat noticed a shift in Sansa's eyes. It was an icy look that made her skin crawl. It was gone as soon as it came. Her daughter thought for a moment.
"I suppose the original outline could be spared." Then she stopped. "No, not now. I don't want that to be my contribution to the vast wealth of knowledge in the Citadel. Once Mikken and I work the bugs out then they can have a copy of the latest plans, and the old plans. I won't put my mark on a faulty design. Perhaps when we finish construction of the new forge."
Luwin for his part looked pleased despite the rejection. Cat agreed it was an admirable reason to withhold such a request. Cat remembered that brief look in her daughter's eyes. The instant mistrust when the Citadel was mentioned. Cat herself saw no reason for such mistrust, but perhaps her daughter simply thought they wished to steal her design.
"I will let them know you wish to send them a thorough design then." Luwin nodded. "I will see myself out."
Luwin left. Catelyn looked at the other two girls. They seemed to be having fun, and it was good to see Sansa reconnecting with them. However, she found this was a good time to speak with Sansa alone.
"Girls, would you let me speak with Sansa alone." They nodded and left. Catelyn shut the door.
Sansa looked at her curiously unsure of what to do or say. Her hair was beginning to annoy Cat. She shook her head.
"Get the stool, I'll see if I can help you with that hair." Sansa sighed, grabbing a stool from the corner and handing Cat a brush. It was warranted. Cat had tried on multiple occasions to get it back to the way it used to be. Still the Lady of Winterfell would not give up.
They sat in silence for a time, Cat found Sansa's hair to be especially hard to work with today. Sansa hissed as she combed out a snag. Cat could tell her daughter was biting down a very unladylike curse.
"Now, now, there is no way we will find you a good match if you look like a wildling." Cat gave Sansa a light slap when she sensed the roll of the girl's eyes. Her daughter grumbled.
"I kind of like it the way it is now."
Cat shook her head. "Time may offer a solution." Cat conceded. Cat remembered there was another thing that needed addressing. "You haven't visited the Sept in weeks."
Sansa was quick to answer. "I was…" Cat had come to know that pause. It wasn't the drifting off she did during conversation at times. No, Sansa was preparing a calculated excuse.
"Going to accompany me tomorrow." Cat finished for Sansa.
"Yes, Mother." Sansa said. Cat frowned before giving up on the girl's hair. She set the comb down. She ushered Sansa on her bed and sat down next to her.
"Sansa,,." Cat found herself awkwardly pausing.
"Where do you get such ideas like the hammer by the river?"
Her daughter shrugged, "I don't know. Ever since I woke up from… you know, I will sometimes look at the way things are done and immediately see a way I could make it better. Like with the hammer. I know not when the urge will strike me. It doesn't happen much."
"I will admit, I don't understand why the Smith will give such insight to a girl of nine, but I will not question the Seven's wisdom."
"Good thing, we Starks have such hard heads. I risk blasphemy, but the Smith could find a better way to impart such wisdom."
Cat found herself chuckling, "I fear that hardheadedness is the Tully blood." Cat thought of her dear uncle Bryden Tully. Known as the Blackfish for refusing to not marry simply in order to spite Cat's Father, Hoster.
Sansa smiled. "Speaking of the Tullys, I thought about writing Grandfather and Uncle Edmure. When Mikken and I eventually got the Power Hammer design properly worked out, I thought perhaps Grandfather would want one in Riverrun."
"Your Grandfather would love to have such a machine in Riverrun. Even more than that, he would love to hear from his Grandchildren." Hoster had come down with a sickness these last few years. Cat wanted to take her children down to Riverrun to see him before he passed. He would love that. It would be nice to see Edmure as well.
"Perhaps I will then. Uncle Edmure too. Oh, and Great Uncle Blackfish."
"It's Bryden." Cat said, trying to contain a chuckle. Sansa had the sense to look abashed. "I am sure Lysa would like to hear from you too."
"I don't see why not."
Cat hugged her daughter close. Sansa hugged her back. Cat still felt there was much left unsaid, but that could wait for now. She left Sansa's room. Sansa followed her out to find Jeyne and Beth again.
Now, Catelyn had to track down Arya. The Wolfblooded child would be the death of her, she swore.
A/N: I should note that I don't really see this as a major tech uplift story. More planting the seed for one when things settle down. So I will keep it to a minimum. I just don't see it taking off to the point where it would really do any good being this close to SHTF in the timeline.