X L V I

When Sansa woke up, her head felt groggy and her throat was parched. She blindly batted for her mug of water on the table next to her, trying to recall why on the Gods white land she'd thought getting so far gone on that wedding ale was a good idea. She remembered it had been Jeyne and Gawen's wedding, so, at least there was that. If she recalled that much, it surely had to be not the worst thing?

Her bed was unusually mussed, more so than when she just slept in it. She cocked her head, wondering if she'd been really uncomfortable in the night. Perhaps she'd forgotten to crack her window open?

As her gaze slid to her door, she moved and felt a strange but not unfamiliar feeling between her legs. As she had to remind herself that Gawen would not have been watching her door last night and in the middle of wondering who had, coupled with the wince as she swung her legs off the bed, she remembered everything.

Well, not everything, but enough.

She and Podrick had come together last night, like two souls on the same string tugged and tugged until they finally made contact. It had felt so natural, so logical that even now, she realized she had a dreamy, goofy smile upon her lips.

That smile was shot to Seven Hells as she replayed all the events; starting with that wonderful act by Podrick early on and finishing with him...finishing inside of her.

She had not been going to the wedding expecting to sleep with anyone, let alone Podrick, so she had not had the foresight to take moon tea.

Oh no. This could be very, very bad.

Sansa threw her clothes on in a rush, half-brushing her hair and hurriedly tying her corset up before she was walking with purpose down the hall. She resisted the urge to bite her nails or chew on her lip, but anxiety welled within her with every step she took. By the time she spotted Meera, she must have looked quite the sight, because Meeran's eyes widened and she quickly hurried Sansa into her solar.

"I'll be back." She said, "Stay in here," She commanded, and though Sansa took demands from no one, she was far too preoccupied to think of going anywhere else.

She arrived with Gawen and Jeyne in tow.

Gods, if Meera had summoned the happy couple the day after their wedding...Sansa must have looked particularly panicked. Which, granted, she was.

"Oh my gods, are you okay?" Jeyne immediately rushed to Sansa, touching her cheeks, "You're as pale as a specter!"

"I...last night…" Sansa struggled to get the words out, ashamed of her own foolishness and weakness. Podrick was her soft spot, truly, for she would not have been so...so...uncharacteristically stupid with anyone else, that was certain. The night had been incredible, and Sansa wished she were not a Queen so she wouldn't have to be so concerned about the aftermath, but alas.

"What happened," Gawen growled, reaching for his sword.

"I slept with someone," Sansa finally choked out. She did not know if she was relieved or frightened that the trio had similarly frantic reactions to the news, as she had once she realized.

"Oh!" Jeyne gasped.

"Sansa, would you be able to point the man out?" Meera asked seriously.

"I wasn't so drunk that I didn't recognize him," Sansa snapped, peeved.

"I wasn't...we're just…" Gawen clenched his fists, "Whoever thought they had the right to touch you just because you were a little too giggly on that ale, well I'll-,"

In an instant, Sansa understood. They thought she'd been taken advantage of. She choked a bit on the glass of water Jeyne had brought to her.

"It was consensual on both of our parts!" Sansa hurried to correct.

"Oh, that's a relief," Meera gave a long sigh, "A beheading after a wedding would be quite the damper."

"Well…" Gawen rubbed his chin, "I'll still be sure to intimidate whoever it was. We don't want a scandal or rumors about it…" He said thoughtfully.

Sansa felt a flash of anger at the insulation.

"Podrick would never!"

All three stopped immediately and looked at each other. There was clearly some conversation the three had had that Sansa was not privy to. Her worry flared up again. She groaned, rubbing her forehead.

"Oh, just Ser Podrick," Jeyne gave a huge sigh of relief.

"Just? Podrick?" Sansa echoed, "Why are you not all...gods, do I have to make it clearer? He...finished inside of me and I didn't drink moon tea and gods know if I conceived and-,"

She broke off to take another drink of water before she spiraled. Her monthly bleeding was spotty at best and since she had no need to count the days, such as to wait for a child, she had no need to know when her last bleeding was. She had no idea if this was the right time or the wrong time, but knowing her shoddy luck, one night would have granted her a child. A bastard child from a Kingsguard of another kingdom.

"Why are none of you as concerned as I am?" Sansa demanded, "This seems like an incredibly complicated, terrible, awful turn of events! Oh, spirits, why did your ale have to be so sweet," She bemoaned, glaring at Jeyne, who only gave a half-smile.

"Well, because you're perhaps making this more of an issue than it is," Gawen said, "In fact, I think it might be a blessing...if you are with a child, that is."

"A blessing?" Sansa gaped at him, sure he'd gone mad.

"The truth is, we figured sooner or later it would happen," Meera confirmed, "You and Podrick. Sure, I thought it would be right before they left-,"

"I thought it had already happened," Gawen supplied.

"I was the one who guessed near the wedding!" Jeyne giggled.

"But the point is, we considered this as an outcome. That it would be spontaneous and therefore no moon tea," Meera said, "And yes, at first, we were horrified at the idea too, but…"

"But?" Sansa prompted, starting to relax a tad.

"If you were to get pregnant, there couldn't be better circumstances. Sure, there would be some pushback that you are unwedded, but if it were a boy you birthed, it would shut the council right up," Gawen snorted, "And give Winterfell an heir, which no one could argue. You could simply legitimize him and that would be that. Podrick would never fight you or reveal that he was the father, we know he is too honorable to put you through that. He is not a man of his own land in need of an heir himself, and is low enough so that his son or daughter being raised here would be quite the blessed upbringing."

"And his colorings," Jeyne jumped in, "Are perfect. Despite being from the Westerlands, his dark hair is close enough to Jon's, you know? If you had a red-head they would think it was your Tully blood, but if it looked like Podrick, no one would ever question. It would merely seem like the Stark ancestry was taking over. Quite perfect you didn't fall for a Lannister, let's say. That would be harder to explain," Jeyne said with a hint of a tease, as though the issue was not quite as large as it truly was, but instead a joke between friends.

"So you'd say I should...go through with it?" Sansa asked, feeling overwhelmed and a bit deflated. Her anxiety was still present, but clearly, her friends had given much thought to this. More thought than she would have hoped they had, but then again, their job was to fix problems before it happened.

"We're saying that you should truly consider all the good things it would bring. Yes, it wouldn't be easy, but I think the pros outweigh the cons," Meera said with a gentle, almost mothering tone, "We wouldn't know yet, not for a while."

"I know that," Sansa said irritably, unsure why she was still feeling so uneasy. She should feel like she'd just gotten away with something. She was sure that this would be an issue that would take up the whole day and cause a huge ruckus in everything, but at most, it seemed a passing thought.

But it didn't seem like that to her. She could be carrying Podrick's child right now.

"I suppose I will keep you all updated," Sansa said, standing up. Her legs felt shaky and part of her wanted to seek out Podrick immediately, but the other would not let her. She wasn't sure where to go or what to do right now, but she hoped she put on a good enough tone that her friends would let her pass, "Thank you for your guidance."

They did.

Sansa shut the solar door behind her and let out a long and heaving sigh, completely unsettled by this entire morning yet so far.

I

After she righted herself as to not look quite like such a fright, she found herself wandering the halls. She might be able to hide her anxiety with rouge and her warm furs, but she could not quell the feelings that stirred inside of her.

She was in a daze most of the day, walking dully from one place to another with no true purpose in mind. Her mind continued to wander always between two subjects; Podrick and what happened last night (which she remembered with a soft smile) and the possibility of what might be the consequence (which she did not know how to feel). If anyone noticed her hazy expression and far-off frown, no one said anything.

As it was, most people were so hungover from the celebrations last night that she doubted anyone was paying attention to her more than a passing acknowledgment that the Queen was passing through.

Small miracles.

Sansa half wanted to confide in Podrick, but every time she imagined bringing up what had happened, or Gods, admitting their possible mistake and what her council had said, she felt her throat close. Every time she lingered near his halls she found a reason to turn her feet and swiftly speed away to some other part of the castle where he was likely to be.

Part of her just did not have the words to talk about it. Never had she enjoyed her night like that and she did not want the idea of it to be tarnished. The other part of her was terrified that there would be a repeat performance and at that point they'd just be laughing at the Gods, temping them and their ways with fate.

The other part of her mind was already wondering, though...what if she were pregnant? What if she was going to have Podrick's child? What if she would wake up to a small boy or girl with curly black hair and flushed cheeks in just under a year?

Though she could not help it and did not mean to, she felt her hand falling to her stomach; still flat, obviously. She didn't realize it as she did it but would brush past someone or catch a glimpse of herself and curse her wandering hand. She would drop it, lest someone start a rumor before she knew anything herself.

As she caught her hands resting at her stomach for the umpteenth time, Sansa clenched her fist and sighed, so unsure of everything. She wished she had the simple confidence and assurance that her friends had, the idea that this was undoubtedly a Good Thing.

If only it were that easy on her end.

Her mind ran back through the night. Just as she was contemplating the entire order of affairs, she heard the squeaky wheel of her brother's chair.

For the first time in hours, Sansa marched down the hall with a purpose in mind.

No, 'marched' was too tame. Sansa nearly overtook the hall with her furious expression, causing a few people to jump out of the way, as though Sansa would plow right through them.

"You!" She pointed a finger at Bran, her voice echoing.

Brienne, who was pushing Bran, saw her expression and jumped protectively in front of her king as though Sansa was about to stab him. Which, now that the thought was there, Sansa would admit she was tempted.

"Good morning, dear sister," Bran said, a hint of humor behind his tone.

"Ser, please leave us. I need to talk to my dear brother," She mimicked his tone, glaring.

"Queen Sansa, I really don't think-,"

"It's alright," Bran interrupted, "She's not going to do anything."

Brienne backed off immediately, "Yes, my King. Err…I'm going to go outside for a second to get some air. I will return in a few minutes."

As she left, and Sansa roughly pushed Bran's chair to an empty room, pushing him over a few more uneven cobbles than strictly necessary, she could not help her sardonic tone from lifting away from her lips.

"So you saw that I wouldn't throw you out a window again? Is that it? You used your 'sight'?"

"Oh, Sansa," Bran laughed, "Ser Brienne may believe that, but rather I just thought logically. You would not really hurt me, it would be foolish on your part…" He saw her clenched hands and noted her cold expression, "Though it seems you're unhappy...I had thought...last night…" He seemed genuinely confused.

And, his information about last night was what was so aggravating to her.

"Stop it," She said curtly.

"What?"

"Stop...puppeting me!" She hadn't realized why she was so angry with Bran until now, as she started to speak, "I hate that you act as though I'm a piece in your little game and that you must have seen something to make sure that last night happened as it did and my life or my future child's life is not yours to steer!"

She had never had an ounce of control over what was going to happen to her until very recently. The idea that someone was once again pushing the outcome to how they wanted, using her as a vessel, was a fate worse than death. She had hated her life before and was damned if she had to return to it.

"Sansa," Bran's voice was thick with sorrow, "I am sorry you think that. I may have seen glimpses of the future, but nothing about yours is set. Even if I did want to sway out an outcome, I doubt I could. There are so many variables."

"But you say...the future...and me and Podrick-," Sansa fumbled, her anger fading away to unsureness.

"I thought it would make you happy," Bran said, pouting but also confused, "I was just trying to make you pleased."

At that moment, he sounded so much like a small boy, the boy who had spent days re-threading the hair on one of her dolls after Arya had cut it off and Sansa had sobbed, the boy who wanted the love of his older sister, that Sansa felt removed from any red feelings at all.

"But how did you know what we did, if you did not foresee it?" Sansa asked in a small voice.

"It does not take a future-seer to predict what would happen if you two ended up in the same room, alone, together," Bran said with that small smile returning to his face, "I am surprised you're the last to figure that one out."

"So, you aren't trying to get me to conceive or hatch a plot or keep the future on some unseen timeline?" Sansa asked after a long moment, feeling a bit stupid.

"No," Bran shook his head, giving her a small and nearly sad smile, "As I said, I just wanted you to have something good, though it's fleeting. We also both know that... no powers required." He stated, "I'll admit I had not...considered the possibility of a child from last night. That does complicate things, if true."

"So you haven't seen anything?" Part of Sansa longed for Bran to tell her what he did know, so she'd be prepared. Part of her so desperately wanted that confirmation of life.

"I thought we just went through the idea that you didn't want me meddling," Bran barked out a laugh, half of a choke, "And, perhaps call me silly, but I'd rather be surprised with the rest of the world if it is true."

"Well, if it does cement itself, you may be the first to know. Surely I won't for a while," Sansa said, opening the door. Ser Brienne appeared moments later, as though she had some other sense as to when Bran needed her.

"I have finished my break outside," She said, a bit cagily.

"Grand. We've just finished talking," Sansa said, "Bran? Thanks, truly." She would admit that without Bran's plan, last night may have not occurred, and still at the end of the day, she was glad that it had.

"If I had a solution to fix everything…" Bran trailed off then coughed, "Nevermind. Enjoy the rest of your day, Sansa."

I

Podrick pins Sansa in the hallway four days later. He grabbed her from her route, pushed her gently against a wall, shielding the walkway with his body, and pressed a forearm near the side of her head, boxing her in.

Normally, this would thrill Sansa. Today, however, her heart quickens, in not the usual sense and she has to clench her nails against her palms hard to keep from touching her stomach.

"Sansa, have I done something? Wrong, that is?" He asks, his tone much gentler than his actions suggest. However, it is a silly notion that Podrick could ever be cruel.

"What? Of course not," Sansa exhales at once, shrugging.

"Then...why have you been ignoring me?"

"I have not! I've just been busy," Sansa argues, huffing at the idea. Podrick gives her a long look and she realizes that, even though she had not meant it, she had been.

"Give me the courtesy not to lie to me. I apologize for the night of the wedding. I overstepped. I should have…" He licks his lips, shaking his head.

"Gods, no!" Sansa realizes with a jolt of horror that she'd left her chambers so quickly it must have seemed like fleeing. There were many ways to bruise a man's ego, but this was one of the most easily done, even if she had not meant to, "Pod, that night was...it was incredible. Honestly. I wanted it. There wasn't…" She was usually articulate, but Podrick left her tongue a jumbled mess.

Podrick was still looking ashamed, so Sansa grasped his cheeks and kissed him, pouring in all her feelings toward him, all the fire that he still lit in her. Podrick's arm next to her head dropped to cradle her hair softly, and he pressed her ever so slightly harder against the stone by angling his body forward.

When he pulled back, and he pulled back first, Sansa laughed at his reddened cheeks.

"If I regretted it, would I be kissing you like that?" She asked with a hint of mirth.

"I guess no," He said, scratching the back of his neck, "But you have been slipping my attempts to get your attention," He said with a slight tone of hurt.

Sansa gave a hard sigh. Truly, she had not meant to.

She had wanted many times during the last days to knock on his doors or invite him back. She'd wanted to confide in him. She'd wanted to tell him. Whenever she started toward his door, her brain seemed to catch up.

There was no child to speak of yet, at least, not in any certainties. She was not sure what she even felt toward this possibility, so how could she properly tell him? She was also unsure as to how he'd react...he was stationed under her brother in a different kingdom. There was no chance for him to be a father that far away.

Perhaps he'd hate her. Perhaps he wouldn't.

Either way, it seemed foolish to jump the line and tell him.

However, since it was what seemed to be a replaying loop of Sansa's mind consistently, she feared if she tracked him down for other things, she'd blurt it out accidentally anyway. Which, in truth, she was biting her tongue hard now so as not to let that secret - which might not be a secret at all - drip from her lips.

"What's wrong?" He asked, tugging on a curly strand of hair, one that had come undone during their heated kiss just moments ago, "Something occupies your mind. It's bothering you."

She was warmed he was able to recognize her so well, and this nearly tempted her to tell him.

She opened her mouth, imaging the words.

Podrick, you might be a father.

Podrick, we didn't...prepare, so there's the possibility that…

Podrick, I might be pregnant.

None of these lines seemed to flow, even mentally, and she felt more certain of her choice to stay quiet, for now at least, until she had more knowledge. He was set to be here a few moons. Certainly, by the time he left, she'd have a better idea if Winterfell was to receive an heir.

"I am merely consumed by thinking of food rations," She lied. It was not altogether untruthful...it was her second most common thought. Still, it did not even meet the amount she thought about the child that may not be by a longshot.

"Oh. Anything I can do to help?" He asked sincerely.

"Nothing much. It's just a numbers issue," She shrugged. She side-stepped him, wishing they could remain here just a bit longer. However, she truly did have things to attend to, "If it would please you, I'll make a better effort to not ignore you," She teased lightly.

Podrick kissed her knuckles, making her knees weak.

"You know I'd like that," He mumbled, entirely transparent about his affections.

"I do care," Sansa said, pausing before she left, "You just...need to prod it out of me sometimes." Podrick nodded, chewing on this information.

"I'll remember that."

X L I X

Four days later, on the morning of a full moon, Sansa woke to reddened sheets beneath her legs and pain in her stomach.

It was no worse than usual, not literally, but as soon as Sansa saw...she felt no desire to get up that day. She sent her maids away, snapping slightly, which brought Meera knocking on her door.

Sansa merely had to pull back the sheet and show her a glimpse and Meera seemed to understand.

"I'm...sorry," She mumbled, looking at the floor.

"There probably never was," Sansa said honestly, but the words seemed to ache as she said it.

Meera sent for her morning food and went to fetch her books and scrolls to work in bed, whenever she felt like it.

Sansa was a woman who had her moon blood for quite a few years now. It hurt, yes, but rarely bad enough to sequester her to her bed. The actual pain today was nothing out of the ordinary, and she was not going to let herself sit out for a few days every month for such a frivolous issue…

And yet? Still, there was a longing sadness, something that threatened to break in Sansa whenever she thought and focused on it. It was something that had her eyes wet, her throat closed, and her nose burned.

She was determined not to cry over literally nothing.

"It's not nothing," Jeyne argued when Sansa told her as much, later that day, staring at Sansa like she was mad, "You haven't figured it out yet, have you?"

"Figured out what?" Sansa asked, hating that she was being pitied.

"You wanted that child," Jeyne said as though it was obvious, "And while his seed didn't take likely at all, you liked the idea that it could have been."

Sansa huffed; "There was nothing. It's foolish for me to be getting emotional."

"Great Seven!" Jeyne threw down her quill, looking a bit offended, "This is a child. If you're not emotional, then...then…" Her face was bright red, "My babe was nothing more either. Died before he lived. And yet I loved him, so deeply. I see him in my dreams, I will never forget him. It is emotional, how could you think not?"

Sansa had forgotten, for a moment, about Jeyne's past. Immediately, she felt horrible, but her anger that Jeyne was arguing with her outweighed her sense of mortification.

"That is you, and this is me," She said coolly.

"Admit it," Jeyne said after a crisp moment, "You are upset, or you would not be having such a reaction to my words."

Sansa simmered and glared and Jeyne grabbed her work, deciding to chart the finances elsewhere. She paused in the threshold of the study.

"When you are ready to talk about it, truly, you know I'm here." She said simply before closing the door firmly behind her.

Sansa angrily read her tomes, but as the anger ebbed away with the passing hours, she was replaced with a sense of deep longing and hurt.

And, though she tried her best to shove these feelings down...oh, gods, Jeyne was right.

She liked the idea that she was. Though it had been born of a mistake, a slipped thought, Sansa had begun to grow excited. She had found herself thinking of how she would make up the nursery, what she'd teach her child, wondering if Arya or Jon may be lured back by the thought of their niece or nephew...when she thought of that child, she thought of family.

But there wasn't a child to speak of and yes, part of her, felt cheated. Or angry. Or she was mourning.

She'd been fine with her plan to adopt an orphan. For the past few moons, that had kept her excited and relieved. While she still found herself returning, trying to cement herself in this plan, it just felt paled.

It had opened up that thrumming in her heart that had so much wanted a child when she was younger. She'd put it on the back of her mind for a bit, but now that she was starting to get settled, and now that she felt like it had been yanked from her hands, she realized that she was thinking about what could have been far more than she would care to admit.

The sky was darkening and Sansa realized she had not read or flipped a page in quite a long time. Truth be told, her mind was churning. It was working through what might possibly be a terrible, terrible idea.

Abruptly, she stood.

There was no harm in doing her research. She had not yet committed to this new plan, something that had wriggled into her brain and refused to leave. She would go mad if she did not briefly consider it like the scholar her parents had taught her.

They had gained a new Maester recently. Maester Herrison was young, excited, and very knowledgeable as far as Sansa could tell, but she did not yet trust him. Not with something of this magnitude, no offense to him. Luckily, she knew where to find Sam. She trusted him slightly more, being chosen by her brother to the King's Landing Maester and being Jon's most trusted mate.

"Hullo Sam," She greeted, knocking on his door. His room was strewn with books. He was a voracious reader and she had thought his appetite would be settled in King's Landing, but he was tearing through books in the Winterfell study with a shocking speed.

"Queen Sansa," Sam bowed, "Does King Bran need me?"

"No, actually, I had a question for you. Err, a few." She raised her chin, choosing to be brave and ask these questions, as much as they made her nervous.

"Oh." Sam blinked, "Sure."

"You and Gilly...you were purposely trying for a child?" She began carefully, settling herself on the only wooden chair free of books.

"Yes! She just wrote and told me we were successful. I love Little Sam, of course, but I never thought I'd have my own lineage." He was glowing. Practically gleaming. Sansa had found Gilly most enjoyable in her short time here, and Little Sam had been the picture of cuteness. She was very pleased to hear this news, "Was that a question?"

"Of sorts," Sansa inhaled hard, "If someone were...trying, specifically...do you have advice?" She blurted before she lost her nerve. Silly, she was a Queen. Still, this was a delicate matter, "For curious minds." She added, trying to sound casual.

"Oh!" Sam blinked rapidly and understanding spread across his face. Great Gods, how many people saw what was occurring between her and Podrick? "For your stewardess, Jeyne!" He said brightly. Sansa blinked in confusion, but Sam continued, "I heard she had a stillborn before, quite terrible. I understand why she'd be worried and all."

"Yes, Jeyne, of course!" Jeyne was newly married. Of course, it seemed reasonable Jeyne would be curious about children. Perfect cover, "She was embarrassed to ask and we aren't quite acquainted with Herrison yet."

"Naturally. He's a smart lad, but we all are quite connected, aren't we?" Sam asked with a wry smile, "Well, firstly, she'll need to stop drinking moon tea. It might take a few months for her body to flush it out, so I'd be doubtful it would occur on their first try."

"No moon tea, okay," Sansa nodded dutifully. This would not be an issue for her, since, despite Arya's best efforts, she was not on any, to begin with. Which had been the big issue a few days ago, and now seemed like a blessing.

"Once she starts bleeding on a regular pattern, she'll want to have intercourse for the first quarter moon after." Sam continued. She expected him to blubber and blush about it like he usually did, but he was very informative currently, focused on his task, and highly professional, "To make sure the seed catches, if she puts a pillow beneath her hips to raise it like this," Sam put one hand flat on an angle, "For half an hour, I've heard that helps."

"Hips. Up. Okay," Sansa repeated to herself softly.

"If she's having trouble, some of them have said planting parsley seeds will encourage the gods to produce an heir. It should be by a friend." He said, nodding to Sansa, "There's also a superstition about the tide that Gilly and I tried, but that wouldn't help you here. Does Jeyne care about gender?"

"Erm…" Sansa blinked. She hadn't gotten so far as to worry about that. If she had a boy, the men on the council would rejoice. If it were a female, there was no reason her daughter should not follow in her footsteps, "No. I do not think." She decided.

"Well, there are tips for both. That might be a bit much on the first new try though. Maybe with her second," Sam rubbed his chin, "Anything else?"

"That was quite...good." Sansa admitted, "Lots to tell her. Lots." She stood up, more sure of her absolutely batty plan than ever.

"Glad to hear. I hope she does deliver safely. I'll research back at King's Landing if I find any histories on tips," He said, looking thrilled at the idea of a new research project.

"Thank you, Sam, sincerely," Sansa smiled to herself, wondering what Sam would say if he truly knew her reason for coming to him, "I hope your advice works."

L

Sansa laid in her bed, blinking at the ceiling.

A question; was she out of her bloody mind?

An answer; absolutely. But oh, she had never been so thrilled to be so.

She had finally unraveled it all in her headspace.

The night between her and Pod had been one to remember, for sure, but they had not thought of the possible consequence. If she had been accidentally impregnated, it would have been manageable, and sure, there were a lot of positives for that outcome. But she was not pregnant, so it should not have even been something to worry about. She would fall back upon the two plans she and Meera had made.

That should have been the end of it. She should be proactive and begin to drink moon tea, lest another night occurs between the two. That would be the logical move.

It was not what Sansa intended to do.

Rather, she planned on asking Podrick very specifically if he would agree to father a child for her.

There were so many reasons this was a very bad idea. To have the occasion fall into her lap due to a missighted error was one thing, but to very actively pursue this? To have a child, on purpose, out of wedlock? Her father's old advisors would roll in their graves! Her father might even have a heart attack if he were around to hear it.

But it was not merely that. Sansa was not just choosing some stable hand from the fort to give her a bastard child, no...she was seeking out a member of the Kingsguard from an opposing kingdom. She wouldn't go as far as to say an enemy kingdom...her brother and she were surely on good terms and she would look forward to a strong partnership between the Kingdoms and the North in the future. Still, it was pretty close to treason. If not on her behalf, on Podrick's.

She was seeking out a terrible option to a problem she didn't even have...huh, everyone had thought she was the smart, obedient sister.

Not when it came to Podrick, apparently.

And yet...she was resolute in this choice. She was prepared for him to reject her offer or for their plan to fail. They had hardly a moon's worth of time before Bran was set to depart, which meant their window of opportunity was one-quarter moon's time. She knew many women struggled with conception so part of her was foolish to think she'd be so lucky on the first try.

But she had to attempt it, didn't she? For her own sanity and well being. If it did not work, she would banish the idea and begin to look for a child to adopt, she told herself. She would be sensible and give The North the heir they were begging for.

She had to do it her way first though.

There was a knock on the door. She'd very purposely chosen a bedroom that was currently unused and sent a note asking Podrick to meet her in here. She did not want Gawen getting wind of this, not when it was hardly past the whisper of hope.

"Sansa, are you alright?" Podrick asked. She'd never sent him a note like this.

"I…" She felt her bravery wither as she stared at him. It wasn't that she no longer wanted this, it was that the gravity of the situation was pressing on her, now that she was looking at Podrick.

"Sansa, luv," Podrick said, coming to sit by her on the bed, grasping one of her hands. His affectionate tone and 'luv', which was new, made her heart melt.

Even days and days trip away, he would be a good father. A good choice for her. She wanted her child to come out good. She didn't want to have to fight against a baser evil, like how she imagined it would be if she had Joffrey or Ramsy's child.

"I have something to admit to," Sansa did not take her hand away, "I was rather ignoring you, but please listen." She said, watching as he stiffened, "The truth was that I realized we were not...careful. I did enjoy the night, very much so, that much could never be a lie. I was caught up in my own thoughts and worries and wonders and I didn't mean to leave you out of it."

"Great Gods," Podrick's face paled, "I didn't even…" His eyes flickered down to her stomach and he swallowed hard, "I'm so sorry. Sansa, I didn't-,"

"It's fine, calm yourself," Sansa kissed his cheek, "There is no child." She said and Podrick relaxed. She bit her lip, "Yet."

Podrick blinked, "Pardon?"

"Yet," Sansa said louder, a bit bolder, "I realized in those days between, and after, that I was hoping there would be one. Quite a lot, actually. And the council has been on my skirts for moons about an heir but more than that I just want a child. I always have." She said, trying to convey with a firm sincerely that this was her own choice.

"Okay?" Podrick was cautiously watching her every movement.

"I don't just want any child," She brought his hand to her flat stomach, "I want it to be yours."

"What?" Podrick gasped out, half choking, "I think I might have gone deaf or imagined things there for a second."

"If you heard me asking for a child, you are still within reality," Sansa smiled, trying to make sure she was not going to lose her nerve or worry Podrick more than this likely was.

"Sansa, are you hearing yourself?" Podrick stood, pacing, "Why me? There are hundreds of men that would gladly do this...men that aren't…" He fumbled, finally motioning to himself as a whole.

"True, I'm sure there are. But I don't know those men. They might be cruel or mean or aim only to take my throne. I have no intention of getting married. If I am to have a bastard child that I will legitimize, and it may be my only child, I want to choose correctly." Sansa said.

"And you chose me?" Podrick gave a wheezing laugh, "I'm not sure you're thinking straight."

"I am of perfect mind," Sansa stood, catching him mid-pace, "And I have thought through all of this." She placed her hands on his cheeks, "I want it to be you. Honest." She said, standing on her toes to kiss him. Podrick resisted for a second before she felt his arms fold around her and he kissed her back hard, one hand digging into her hair.

"I know this is a lot to ask you," Sansa pulled back, pressing her forehead as high up as she reached on him, which was around his shoulder, "It would likely fall under disloyalty to Bran. You have much to think about, but I wouldn't want you to imagine for a second that you are a worse choice compared to anyone else."

"There's that," Podrick agreed with a rough laugh, "It's a lot to ask."

"I know. I'm sorry. You are free to say no. I won't be hurt." Sansa fisted his shirt, listening to his heart beating.

Podrick was silent for a very long time. When she finally looked up, his face was not pulled into a frown, but rather, a soft but faraway smile.

"Pod?"

"Yes."

"Are you okay-."

"My answer is yes," Podrick corrected, "It's possibly foolish, sure, but I don't know how you thought I'd actually be able to say no. Or want to," He kissed her forehead and then the crown of her hair, "I just want to warn you that your future son or daughter might be the most uncoordinated Stark that's ever graced these halls. People might wonder if you got terribly drunk and had sex with a court jester or maybe a donkey." His smile was genuine and his heart was racing.

"Oh, how I'll love that child," Sansa sighed, the thought of it equally comical but yet warmed her heart. She wanted to know all of it; all of Podrick's past and his future and see that reflected in his future child.

"I will too," Podrick said quietly and there was a seriousness of this that she had not truly considered...he would never really get to see his child grow up. She had thought that maybe he'd agree and never think of this meeting again, but she wondered how she could have ever been so farsighted to think that Podrick wouldn't be bonded with that child from the moment it began? As though sensing Sansa's panic about this realization, Podrick tilted his head.

"I wouldn't have a family with anyone else. At least this way, I'll know out there…" He trailed off, "And if this is what you want of me, without hesitation, I could not imagine a more glorious honor."

Sansa kissed him once more, "With all my heart, it is."