The days blurred together, grey sunlight faded into endless darkness then back whilst she lay in her bed starring at the ceiling. It struck her how similar it felt, as though she were thirteen again hiding in her room desperately pretending the city beyond her door wasn't there. The same numb feeling, the same endless depression.

She thought of the North, pressed her eyes together tightly and remembered those long-gone days in Winterfell with the siblings she would never see again.

"Sansa" a soft knock sounded at the door. It creaked open and in came Petyr. "The whole kingdom is worried about you."

"I don't care what they think."

A sudden cry came from the basket beside her bed and she tentatively reached down.

He couldn't help but notice the way she grimaced as she moved. He moved to help her but instead of accepting she clutched the child closer to her and moaned in pain.

"She's a beauty."

Perched on the edge of her bed he watched as she dropped her nightgown and began to feed the infant from her own breast. It wasn't the act itself which made him uncomfortable, running a whorehouse meant he was well accustom to women feeding their children. For high born ladies it was unheard of, and because of this, and the ease with which she exposed her naked breast, he concluded that she had lost the dignity which had been bestowed upon her at birth.

"Shall we take a walk in the gardens this afternoon? The weather won't stay this fine for long now. Winter is coming after all." He smiled, it was no reciprocated.

"I won't leave this room."

Petyr sighed, "You can't stay in here. He won't let you."

Separating the tiny infant from her chest her eyes narrowed. "Then he can come up here and remove me himself."

"Sansa please."

"No! I'm fed up of being 'reasonable'." Tears pooled in her eyes, "He tried to kill her…"

"I know."

"I hear you out there you know. Hovering in the hallways taking to the servants in whispers. You promised you'd help me and now you're what, his errand boy?"

Petyr let out an exasperated gasp. "I am helping you, you little fool but your sitting up here pissing of your bastard husband will ruin everything. They think you're going to kill yourself, the servants, the whole bloody castle."

Tears streamed down Sansa's face and Petyr almost felt guilt, for allowing the broken little girl before him to suffer such extremes. Almost…but not quite.

"Maybe I will, what do I have left?"

"Your children?"

She shook her head venomously, "They're his children."

"Sansa."

"There is nothing you can say Petyr, I won't change my mind and I certainly won't carry on as though nothing happened!"

He walked to the window and stood beside it, silent for a moment he braced his hand against the cold stone wall before he said the words he knew would change everything. He had been saving them, a careful plan to reveal them at precisely the right time but he couldn't let this continue else everything would be lost. "Sansa, John is alive."

"They say she has ten thousand barbarians and a fleet of ships to rival the Iron born."

Ramsay's fist curled into a tight ball as he listened. Surrounded by the small council which had come a long way from being 'small'. Twelve men, seven of whom Ramsay could not name. Petyr insisted they were useful but so far Ramsey could not fathom why.

"Her dragons are each as large as this very castle."

"Enough!" His fish slammed against the wooden table and silenced the room. "Does anybody have anything useful to say?"

Men looked to each other…mutters exchanged as he rose from his seat to stride arrogantly around them. "Anybody?... Any ideas as to how we'll defeat this bitch?"

Silence ensued.

"Of course not. You men would rather piss away our precious time speculating about the size of her tits."

The convening of the council did not pick up from that point and by the time the men filled out of the room almost a full hour later Ramsay would have rather slit Lord Marks throat before listening to another word from his mouth. When the chairs ceased scraping the floor and the room fell quite once more only Ramsay remained. His knuckles rapped on the arm of the chair as he mulled over the challenge he was facing. These past few weeks it seemed that everything had fallen apart.

He walked the corridors towards the great hall in silence, contemplating how he'd arrived here. He had always possessed great ambition for a bastard but never had he dreamed of being king. Now that he wore the crown he would fight to the death to keep it, yet all it had done was land problems in his lap. He had revelled in his solidarity in the North. No prying eyes watching him he could do what he wanted but now…

"Lord Bolton." He was interrupted as one of his men arrived just steps ahead of him.

"What?" he snarled.

"The Queen, you said to notify you immediately if anything changed."

A sickening feeling curdled the put of his stomach. "and?"

"…She's out in the courtyard with Lord Baelish."

"They're all looking at me."

"Then perhaps you could show them your beautiful smile."

Sansa had almost forgotten what fresh air felt like, the cool breeze on her cheeks, the scent of soil catching in the back of her throat. It was bright and fresh and suddenly she missed the safety of her they walked arm in arm they she couldn't help but notice how beautiful the gardens were, scattered with faces she recognised and littered with those she did not. A small serving girl followed a few paces behind her holding the tiny infant swaddled in a large bundle of cloth. Her heavy skirts rustled beneath her, weighing her down, she'd become used to wearing nothing but her nightgown.

"So you're sure, that John's...alive?"

"Yes" He said it so confidently she couldn't help but be filled with confidence. "I received a raven, a disturbing one and at first I didn't believe it."

"But now you do?"

His eyebrows knitted together, jaw suddenly tense. "It is a strange world we live in Sansa and I have a feeling it is about to become even stranger."

She nodded, her skin beginning to prickle under the weight of a thousand eyes. "I feel as though I'm on parade."

"You are, but I promise you this my little bird, it will all be worth it."

She fixed her eyes on the horizon, far beyond the sprawling city, past its wales and out to the wilderness beyond. "I know it will."