Let me just preface this chapter by saying "Damn, this fandom and pairing requires a lot of research." Jeez.

So, although I'm going off the show's version of Game of Thrones, it's been impossible for me not to take from books when it comes to the Night King. Of course, I'm sticking to the show's version of how he was turned (although I think the Night King and the Night's King are two different people) I've had to incorporate some history from the book.

And damn there's a lot of history. In the books. Not the show. Of course.

So… here's chapter 3. Not much happens, BUT it's important setup.

The night was hers.

Under her bare feet, she felt hard stone as she walked through the castle. Toward her purpose. Long dark red hair flowed behind her with every step she took.

Tilting her head back, she bared her throat and inhaled deeply. There. The next room.

Before she even stepped inside the room, the other woman reeked of fear. She clutched her stomach protectively.

Baby, Sansa thought, unsheathing her sword.

"Sansa, is that you?"

Sansa came to stop a few feet away from the woman. In another life, she'd known her. Now those memories seemed distant-not gone-but unimportant to her present goals.

"Please, I'm with child."

That didn't matter.

"Do you want me to beg?" the woman asked. "Fine. I'll beg." She lowered herself to her knees, still covering her abdomen. "Please, Sansa, I don't deserve your mercy but this child is innocent."

Sansa looked down at her. Innocent. It meant nothing. She gave the briefest of smiles and then raised her sword. He wanted her dead. She was not to become one of them.

In one clean stroke, the woman's head slid off her neck and rolled away. It was done.

Sansa bolted upright in bed, breathing heavy. She threw back the covers and stood up, making straight for the door to her bedroom. "Arya?"

Her little sister stood slouched against the wall opposite her door, hand on the hilt of her sword.

Always ready for a fight, Sansa thought with a touch of humor.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Isn't it obvious? Keeping watching over you." Arya gave her a withering look and pushed past her into the bedroom. Sansa followed and shut the door. "You're an idiot, you know."

Sansa stood and waited for the tongue-lashing she'd known was coming.

Arya turned and eyed her up and down. "No weapons training. No hand to hand training. Shit, Sansa, you don't even own a sword, and yet you decide to take a run at the Night King."

"He was going to kill you."

Arya barely winced at the blow to her pride. "Yeah, well, how is my getting killed a signal for you to charge in and get yourself killed? I just do not know what goes on in that head of yours."

Sansa decided to defend herself. "I didn't think we were going to live through it. I just panicked. The crypt was overrun and I barely got out. Then I saw you running toward the Godswood and I just followed. I saw Theon…" She swallowed hard, fresh tears springing up. Arya had the decency to look down in recognition, as well. "And I knew. He was going to kill you. And then Bran. And then probably me, and Jon, and everyone else. I just … acted."

Arya cocked her head just slightly to the side. "Except he didn't kill you."

"He didn't kill any of us." Sansa sat down in a chair by the fire. "I don't understand why not. It's driving me mad."

Arya stood watching her for a moment and then joined her sister by the fire. "What happened after he took you? We all thought you were dead."

"I thought I was going to die," Sansa admitted. "I woke up in a small cave. There was a fire, I suppose to keep me from freezing to death. Dead people just stood there staring at nothing, but I could tell they were supposed to guard me." She swallowed hard at the next memory. "And then he came."

"The Night King?"

Sansa nodded, but didn't say anything more.

"Well?" Arya pressed. "What did he want?"

Sansa's throat went dry. "I… I can't tell you. I can't tell anyone."

That made Arya's eyes widen a fraction in alarm. "Sansa, you must tell me.

"I don't trust Daenerys Targaryen, no matter what Jon says."

"Great. Me neither. Now tell me what happened."

Sansa hesitated. "You swear you won't tell anyone?"

"Dammit Sansa, I swear."

"He… he put his hand on my head." Sansa ignored her sister's repulsed expression and continued. "I felt cold like I'd never felt before and then I saw something. Like a vision, or something. I don't know."

"What did you see?"

"Cersei Lannister. She was on her knees, begging this other woman not to kill her. But the other woman did. And then when she turned around… and I saw her face… it was me."

Arya's eyes widened.

"But not me. I looked like one of those things."

"One of the dead?"

Sansa shook her head. "No, the Others."

Arya nodded and looked at the fire, thinking hard. Sansa hesitated. Did she really have to tell her everything she saw in the vision?

Sighing, she decided why not? "There's something else." Arya looked at her, eyes sharp. "He was there too. The other me, I mean the one who killed Cersei … she kissed him."

Arya made a face. "Ugh, Gods Sansa, you have the worst taste in men."

"It's not like I want to kiss him, Arya. I don't know why I acted that way in the vision he showed me. I don't know why he didn't kill me or Bran or you. I don't know anything."

"You said Cersei begged for her life in the vision?" Arya asked.

Sansa nodded.

"That doesn't sound like her. Cersei wouldn't beg for anything, even her life."

"She was pregnant."

Arya shook her head. "Still… maybe this vision isn't really a vision, but more of something that you wanted to see. You hate Cersei, as do I. Is there anyone alive you hate more than her?"

Sansa's face hardened. "No."

"Maybe the Night King was showing you your heart's desire."

"Yes, but what about everything else? I don't desire any of that."

Arya's eyes darkened. "Maybe that was what he desires."

Sansa was shocked. "You can't be serious."

"I don't know, Sansa, but one thing is certain-we're alive for a reason and it isn't a good one."

XXXXX

Images flashed behind his eyes. Scenes of past lives and future ones seared into his mind. Something disturbed him and he needed to see what it was. He needed to see everything.

He slipped down, far away, not to the future but to the past. The others wanted him to tell them what was going to happen. If death was in their immediate future. But the keys to our futures lie in the past. What happens next is determined by what happened before.

The Three-Eyed Raven focused on the Children and what they had done eons ago to save themselves. The man they used… the Night King.

The Night King hadn't killed him when he'd had the chance. Instead, he'd been distracted by a young girl, the sister of Bran Stark. Sansa. Why had that happened? What was special about that girl?

He'd known that the Children of the Forest had used one of the First Men to create the Night King, but just who was that man? Was his identity important?

All these questions ran through his mind just as the images did. Something caught his attention and he stopped, going back to review what he'd seen.

And then he was there. He was no longer confined to his chair. His legs worked. There was a battle raging all around him. What looked like Wildlings and men wearing the Stark sigil and carrying the Stark banner fighting together against the dead. He knew without being told that this was the Battle for the Dawn, six thousand years ago.

No, this was too chaotic. He needed something specific. Concentrating once again, he closed his eyes, opening them after a few moments.

There.

The Night King.

He didn't look the same. Except for his eyes and pale white skin, he was human in appearance.

Not long after the Children took him, the Raven surmised. Interesting.

The leader of the dead was engaged in battle with someone. An ancient Stark. His sword cut easily through the leather and armor, killing the man. A scream took the Raven's attention to the right. A small figure, picking her way through dead bodies who'd not yet risen, fell to her knees beside the slain warrior. She ripped off her hood, red hair streaming in the cold wind.

"You killed him. How could you?" she accused.

The Night King merely stared, the corners of his mouth barely lifting. Then he turned and began walking away, as if the girl were of no importance to him. She took a dagger from the belt of the slain man and went after the King, planting the blade in his back, just under his shoulder blade.

As if he'd seen her actions, he whirled around and cut into her body with his sword of ice. The blade stuck out the other side of her.

She was not quite dead yet. The Night King grabbed her face with his free hand, and then did something quite shocking to the Raven. He kissed the girl on the mouth before letting her body fall to the ground. Then he continued walking away.

The Raven stepped over bodies to make his way to the girl. He didn't know what he could learn from her now that she was dead, but he just felt he had to see her face.

Staring down at her, he realized he was wrong. He'd just learned something important. Possibly very important. Although there were slight differences-for example, there was more blonde in the red hair, the eyes were slightly more narrow, the build smaller, and cheekbones sharper-the girl was the image of Bran's sister, Sansa.

The Raven opened his eyes, once more surrounded by cold stone walls and fire in the hearth. Once more in the present. His work was not finished, however. This matter needed further study. He was still missing something.

XXXXX

"You're Samwell Tarly, the Maester, right?" Arya stepped into the room, looking around at the clutter.

Sam turned around in surprise and then smiled. "Yes. Well, maester-in-training."

"You cured a man of Greyscale thought?"

He was rather proud of that accomplishment. "I did."

"And you lived at the Citadel?"

"For a time."

"I need to know everything you know about the Night King."

"That isn't much, I'm afraid. Bran told us a little, about him being a First Man, and all." Sam gave a hopeful smile.

Arya was nonplussed. "I need to know more. He took my sister, Samwell. I need to know why."

"I can't promise anything, Lady St-"

"I'm not a Lady."

"Alright, uh … girl. I can't promise anything because I don't believe there is anything left except legend and lore. It was six thousand years ago. Before the Iron Throne, before dragons, before even the Night's Watch."

"I know all that," Arya cut in. "But, please… Find something to tell us what is going on. That's all I ask."

He nodded and she walked away. Then he visibly sagged and his expression turned sour. "What does she think I've been doing all this time?"

If you can't tell, this was not proofread much before I posted it. Sorry for any mistakes that take you out of the story.

So, Arya's on it. She's pretty smart and I wanted a scene from her POV because of that. And of course Stark sister bonding is always good for me. She's definitely going to try and hunt down the reason for the Night King's weird interest in Sansa.

I'm calling Bran the Raven whenever it's a scene from his POV and some people might not like that, but Bran's gone. Only his family calls him Bran anymore, of course, which they still will in the story, but from his POV he's the Three-Eyed Raven.