Blizzard wanted to fly, that was becoming clear. He was flapping his wings and lifting himself off the ground. Sansa had to take him to the lichyard to allow him to stretch his wings, both figuratively and metaphorically. But she told him he wasn't allowed to fly, much to his discontent.
Mikken had been working on a large iron chain to allow Jon to lead the dragon to his new lair. She didn't like the idea, but neither she nor Jon could let him fly there. It felt cruel to chain him up, even for an hour, but it was for his own good.
The chain was made twice the size as was needed, for his growth rate was incredible. If he continued like this, he would be the size of Rhaegal within a moon's turn. He had grown at least five feet in the three days since Jon had left for the hunt.
Jon would be back later in the day, of that Sansa was certain. A runner had returned ahead of the hunting party to tell them to expect the men and their catch within two hours. He reported the trip to be most successful, and the butchers needed to prepare for the extra work.
There had been no incidents or injuries, other than wounded pride, as all Sansa could muster from the breathless lad. She sent him on his way to wash and return to duties.
Sansa could not wait for the return of her husband, father and brother. News had arrived from Queenscrown regarding Bran's health. He would survive with nothing more than a bruised ego, however, it appeared their fears were not unfounded regarding Bran's third eye,. If what uncle Benjen said was correct, Bran was showing signs of having abilities beyond that of a warg.
A horn blew in the distance. The party wasn't far from the castle, and everyone would be there to greet the group, including Blizzard.
Sansa closed her eyes and thought of Lady. The next thing she knew was the surrounding Godswood. The smell of snow, trees and dragon. Beside her was Nymeria, and a sleeping Blizzard. She nudged the dragon first before waking her sister. Both looked at her with bleary eyes.
Lady stood, her paws sunk into the snow, but she didn't mind. The feel of fresh snow was invigorating. She turned her head and looked to the other two creatures, before padding forwards a few steps. She looked behind her once more.
Her sister seemed to understand her, so she nudged Blizzard, who stood, albeit with some reluctance. Once they were on their feet, Lady escorted Nymeria and a stomping dragon from the Godswood and into the lichyard where Sansa and Mikken was waiting for them.
Mikken cowered at the sight of Blizzard, fear bright in his eyes.
"Fear not, he won't harm you while I am here."
"No offence, your grace. But won't he remember me for the one who put the chain on him? He might won't me as roast Mikken instead of roast mutton, as his way of thanks."
Sansa laughed at his jape, albeit one which was filled with terror.
"He knows I am the one to chain him, not you," she ran her hand down Blizzard's face. "Come, stroke him. He is quite gentle for now. Once he understands the reason for the chain, he will be most grateful," she turned to Blizzard, "Won't you?"
Blizzard purred in response, which, judging by his expression, stunned Mikken. He edged closer, his body sideways, making himself a smaller target. Not that it would have made any difference should Blizzard have wanted to hurt the smith, but he didn't. Blizzard was more curious than anything. He sniffed at the blacksmith as Mikken placed his hands on the brilliant white scales of the dragon, and stroked him like the dragon was a pup.
Mikken's eyes opened wide in shock.
"He's warm. And like a pup," he comments as Blizzard closed his eyes and leaned into Mikken's touch.
"For now, Sansa warned. He won't always be like this. Fully grown dragons are ferocious and aggressive. But he is happy with you, he'll let you put the iron collar around his neck."
The iron collar lay upon a cart. It wasn't a thick piece, just enough to encourage Blizzard to follow on foot. Mikken pulled the heavy piece of iron from the cart and lay it on the ground, open and ready to fasten around Blizzard's neck. The dragon knew what to do; he lay his head into the collar and waited for Mikken to fasten it.
Once done, Blizzard lifted his head and Mikken tied a thin rope around a small loop on the collar. Mikken handed the other end of the rope to Sansa, who nodded and The trio made their way to the courtyard, to await the return of the hunting party, Sansa pulling Blizzard along like he was a pup on a leash.
The first to return were the carts with the spoils from the hunt. Boar, elk, and deer piled up, ready to be skinned and butchered. Tommy, the head butcher, took charge of the meat. The Starks and the remaining Lords at Winterfell gathered to greet those who had been away for three days.
Blizzard stood beside Sansa. She could feel his excitement, for he must be sensing Jon's return, she thought. Nobody was bothered by the sight of him now, for he had ventured out of the Godswood and into the courtyard many a time in the last few days.
Sansa noted him casting his eye over the meat with a look of longing. Sansa smiled at the dragon.
"I'm sure you'll get some soon."
Her mother stood to the right of her, holding Rickon's hand. Beside Blizzard was Shireen, accompanied by Ser Davos, who had chosen not to hunt, claiming he was a man of salt, unsuited to the task of hunting in the Wolfswood. At the end of the line was Prince Oberyn, who was most proficient with a spear, but was not fond of the snow. Three icy nights under the stars was not to his fancy.
On the other side of Rickon was Maester Luwin, and in front of her were the direwolves. With a sense of discomfort, Sansa noticed Lord Varys was missing. She didn't trust the spider, although he'd not done anything to suggest he would betray them. Instead, she liked to keep a close eye on him.
Jon's horse was the first to enter the courtyard. Everyone in the courtyard dropped to their knees, all except Sansa. Jon dismounted, as did Robb and her father who followed close behind. They approached the group, led by Jon.
"You can stand."
A loud scraping sound filled the yard as people rose to their feet. The first person Jon approached was Sansa. She noticed he looked tired, but happy. As his gaze turned to Blizzard, his face turned to one of shock, before his attention returned to Sansa.
"How have you been without me?"
"Lonely, but now I know you have returned to me safe, your grace," Sansa said with a curtsey and a smile. Jon took her hand in his and kissed the back of it.
"I missed you, my love," he whispered.
"And I you."
After everyone had been greeted, those who had returned from the hunt made for their chambers to wash the hunt from their skin. This left the poor chambermaids all red and sweating with the amounts of baths to be filled.
Once refreshed, the Stark's would meet in her father's solar to catch up on the events of the realm whilst they had been gone.
⸺⸺⸺◊◊◊⸺⸺⸺
A mere hour after the hunt had returned, Jon and Sansa made their way to her father's solar. The news of Bran's health and subsequent consequences regarding how to use his abilities must be discussed. Having a greenseer as powerful as Bran could make the difference between winning and losing a battle.
Once inside, her mother handed the letter from Maester Fell to her father, who read it out loud.
Lord Stark
It is with immense relief; I am writing to you to inform you of Lord Brandon's awakening. He woke earlier today. His injuries are minor. A sprained ankle and a bump to the head. He asked me to write to you to let you know he is alright.
Lord Brandon will write his own letter on the morrow.
Maester Fell
"Here is Bran's letter," her mother handed an unopened letter to Jon. "It is for you. It came this morning."
Jon gave a nod and opened the wax seal. His eyes skimmed over the contents before handing it to Sansa, allowing her to read the contents to everyone else.
Jon, Sansa,
The Three-Eyed-Raven visited me whilst I was unconscious. He showed me many things, including your previous lives. My third eye is now open and I am able to see events of the past and some of the present, but not the future.
Maester Fell says I will be fit to leave Queenscrown in a few days. Ser Barristan and I will make for Winterfell. If the Old Gods favour our journey, I will be with you in less than a moon from you receiving this letter.
By the time I return, I expect events to take place which force your hand, and that of the Lords who have agreed to help our cause.
Take care, and give mother, father, Robb, Arya, and Rickon my love.
Bran
Bran's changes were expected. To see the cold words on paper were still a shock. Was he the same Bran they left behind in their previous life? Would he be cold?
"What does this all mean?" Robb asked.
"I suspect his powers will be limited if he is not the Three-Eyed-Raven. Let us hope the boy who returns is the one who left for Queenscrown these moons past." Jon said.
Her mother gasped, hand over her mouth.
"Are you suggesting he might be… different?"
Sansa knew she and Jon could not appear weak or afraid. If Bran was like his Three-Eyed-Raven persona, there was nothing to be done. Mayhaps it was always destined to be his fate.
"I think it best we wait and find out, mother."
"The letter is colder than I would expect of Bran, but less like the Three-Eyed-Raven. The Three-Eyed-Raven wouldn't have sent his love," Jon added with a touch of reassurance.
Sansa knew Jon was thinking along the same lines as she. The final line of the letter was the clue. However, there was something in that last line which made her smile.
"He mentioned Arya."
"Arya has yet to return," her mother said.
"I suspect Arya will be in Winterfell before he is. She must be on her way for him to know. Especially if he cannot see the future." Jon explained.
There was a knock on the door, which her father answered. Outside was the missing Varys.
"Can I speak with you all in private? I have news to share."
Her father turned to Jon who nodded to let him in. The door was closed after him and Varys took in the group, bowing his head towards Jon and Sansa. He stood in his usual pose, hands in his sleeves, which were made from a mixture of dark grey silk with a red brocade weaved into it.
"I apologise for not being able to greet you on your return, your grace and you, Lord Stark," he said. "I received word from one of my little birds, something which I believe requires your attention."
"What is it, Lord Varys?" her father asked.
"The Storm Crow has yet to dock at White Harbor to drop off the supplies as planned."
"Why should this be of any concern?" Robb asked.
Jon's face paled. "How old is this information?"
"Two days, your grace. The ship left Kings Landing eleven days after Joffrey's death."
"That is over three weeks ago," Jon frowned. Varys nodded his head in return.
"How long does it usually take?" Sansa asked.
"A fortnight. Even allowing for a storm, I would have expected the ship to have docked in White Harbor almost a week ago. Are you certain?" Jon said. The eunuch sighed.
"I wish it were not so. It was the ship to carry Lord Tyrion North, was it now?"
"Aye," Jon replied.
"I fear the loss of a dear friend."
Sansa knew Tyrion and Varys had been friends in their previous lives. She believed his distress was genuine.
"Do you think it might have been hit by a storm?" her mother asked.
"I'd wager one with long golden hair and green eyes, my Lady," Varys replied.
"The Queen mother?" Sansa pretended to be shocked.
"The Queen mother holds little fondness for her youngest brother. I fear what she is capable of, your grace."
"Never mind Tyrion Lannister. An attack on a ship belonging to the Nights Watch is an attack on the Nights Watch itself," her father stared at Jon as he spoke.
Jon ran his hand down his face. "Aye, Lord Stark, you are right."
"And an attack on the North," her father added.
Sansa's stomach dropped. They weren't ready. They needed another moon to prepare. She took Jon's hand in hers and squeezed it. He nodded and turned to the eunuch.
"Not a word of this to anyone until we are certain. Lord Wylis Manderly would write as soon as the ship has docked. Give it another sennight, just in case there were storms. We need to get word to the Nights Watch, ask if they have heard anything from the Storm Crow. It may have docked elsewhere, Gulltown for instance."
"You are right to be cautious, your grace. But you cannot wait too long. Lord Tywin is plotting against the North. He will protect Tommen, as will Cersei and Jaime. Whispers are being spread around the realm. Recruiting Lannister loyalists and attempting to target Targaryen sympathisers."
"Why would they target Targaryen sympathisers? They know nothing of Jon." Sansa asked.
"Others may feel they have a claim to the Iron Throne," Varys replied.
"Daenerys Targaryen?" her father asked.
Sansa wanted to throw another name into the arena. The one who claimed to be Jon's half-brother, Aegon. A Blackfyre, or so Sansa heard. Daenerys had already dealt with him by the time Jon had seduced her and she had travelled North to help them with Others. The boy died by dragon fire after attempting to steal Viserion.
In their previous life, Varys had been loyal to the Blackfyre boy and Jon Connington, leading to speculation surrounding the true origins of the eunuch. Sansa had completely forgotten about him, but he was out there, plotting. She narrowed her eyes at Varys, but kept her opinion to herself. If the one who claimed to be Jon's half-brother was journeying along a similar path, would Varys be supporting him?
"She has three dragons and if my spies are to be believed, a belief being she is the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms."
"I think we are veering away from the topic at hand. I believe Lord Varys is trying to warn us of Lord Tywin's plans." Sansa said.
"I am merely offering you my counsel."
"We are most grateful to your wise counsel, Lord Varys," Jon smiled, although it didn't reach his eyes.
Sansa sensed Lady, who scratched the other side of the door. Sansa stood and opened it, where her wolf was sat prim and proper.
"We won't be long," she said as the direwolf padded behind her into the room and sat beside her.
"Blizzard?" Jon asked, Sansa nodded.
"We shall have to conclude this meeting on the morrow. I have a dragon eager to see me. When a dragon demands, it is best not to keep them waiting," he japed, standing up. Everyone else around the room smiled. "I beg you all good evening."
"I'll ensure the ravens are sent to Castle Black and Eastwatch," her father said, just as Jon and Sansa left the room, much to Sansa's relief.
"Jon, we need to talk. It's about Varys."
⸺⸺⸺◊◊◊⸺⸺⸺
Blizzard, still in his collar, rushed over to Jon, full of joy to be reunited with his rider.
"Pleased to see me?" Jon asked, Blizzard shook his head about in excitement. "Once the sun sets, I will show you to your new lair."
Blizzard seemed not to care, as they sat down, joined by Ghost and Lady. The dragon rested his head on Jon's knees, while Jon stroked him behind one ear, and Sansa tickled the other.
"What did you wish to tell me?"
Sansa looked around, hoping nobody was listening. The wolves behaviour suggested they were alone, which she took as confirmation of their privacy.
"You had little to do with the south before you asked Daenerys to fly North. Did you ever discuss what happened with Aegon?" she asked.
"No. All I know is he was a Blackfyre claiming to be my half-brother Aegon. He ended up being roasted alive by Viserion when he tried to claim him."
"Varys originally sided with Aegon. When he realised Aegon could not contest her claim as she had dragons, Varys turned against him and changed his allegiance to Daenerys."
"Do you know why?" Jon asked. Sansa shook her head.
"I heard whispers and rumours. I only remembered this when Varys said there were others who would try to claim the Iron Throne. Others being plural. I had hoped you'd discussed it with Daenerys."
Jon cast his eyes to Blizzard. "We never talked about it. I was too busy in the North to care about what happened in the south. I heard little at the wall. Maester Aemon would talk about Daenerys and her good deeds with pride."
"Which means we are working blind to what is happening in Essos."
Sansa hated the not knowing. There would be few changes in how they tried to take Westeros until Jon joined the fray. After that, the Targaryens from across the narrow sea would write a new song. Like with the war of the five Kings, Robb's lack of involvement changed the dance.
"We are going to have to learn what is happening in Essos," she concluded.
"How? We don't have spies in Essos."
Sansa smiled. "We don't, but Lord Varys does."
Jon looked confused. "You said not to trust him."
"I only trust our family. I most certainly don't trust Varys. However, every good lie needs to be based upon a grain of truth. We will test him, see what he is prepared to tell us about Aegon. That will give us some idea of how much he will tell us."
"Do we have any choice?" Jon asked.
"Until Bran arrives, I doubt it," Sansa replied.
She looked to the sky, which was turning into shades of orange and purple. The air felt cooler. Jon followed her gaze.
"I should be going. The sooner Blizzard gets to his new lair, the better."
"Will you be staying the night?" Sansa asked.
Jon sighed. "Aye, I suppose. I'll be back at first light. You won't have time to miss me."
"I miss you already," Sansa complained. "However, you have to do this. He needs his own space. The Godswood is too small for him. And he needs to learn how to fend for himself."
"Aye. That's what Ghost and Nymeria are for. They will teach him how to hunt and what to hunt. I don't want him getting a taste for human flesh. If it were up to me, he'd be eating whales and seals. That way I wouldn't have to worry about the livestock." Jon took Sansa's hand in his and rubbed circles on the back of it.
"Promise you will come back to me safe and sound."
Jon placed a finger under her chin. "I think being surrounded by two direwolves and a dragon should be enough."
He leaned in to kiss her. Gentle at first, then just as the passion kicked in, a snort below them broke the moment. Jon and Sansa looked to each other and laughed. Blizzard raised his head and stared at Sansa, his red eyes full of expectation.
"I think he is jealous," Jon said. "He wants a kiss."
"Jon, he's a dragon. Dragons don't kiss."
"This one does," Jon replied.
Sansa rolled her eyes and stared at Blizzard.
"Alright then, just this once," she said, placing a chaste his on his snout. Blizzard purred in satisfaction.
"That's enough for tonight," Jon said. "Come on Blizzard, it's time to take you into the woods. Walder should have saddled the horse by now."
Jon stood and took her hand, helping her up.
"It still feels strange calling him Walder and not Hodor," she said, patting the snow from her skirts.
"It feels even stranger being able to have a proper conversation with him," Jon agreed as they made their way to the gates of the Godswood.
"I suppose that means Bran won't become the Three-Eyed-Raven."
"We can only hope," Jon agreed, kissing her once more. "Stay here with Blizzard and the wolves while I fetch my horse."
Jon soon returned with his horse and climbed up. Sansa handed him the rope which was fixed to Blizzard's collar.
"You look after Jon for me," she instructed the dragon and two direwolves. "I will come visit, I promise," Sansa kissed the dragon on the nose once more. Jon leaned down, and she kissed him. "Now go, before I change my mind."
Jon gave the reins a quick tug, and the four of them set off through the hunters gate and into the forest.
