SANSA

"The Proposal"

Sansa sat in an old tavern in the rural establishment of Asheton which was located on the outskirts of the Crownlands. It was a small fishing village with few people that actually lived there. It was one of the few ports located north of King's Landing. Sansa was with Ser Wyke waiting for her guest. Sansa sent Brienne to King's Landing to find an Armourer that Ser Davos mentioned to her. All he gave her was his name: Gendry Waters. However, this wasn't why Sansa was waiting in an old grey brimstone tavern. She was waiting for a guest to arrive. A guest that she hadn't seen in years: Margaery Tyrell.

"Lady Tyrell has arrived, my Lady. She has four knights with her.", Ser Wyke said. Sansa tilted her head up to him and nodded. She stood out of her chair in a leather corset dress with a dark copper chiffon skirt. Her hair was in loose waves with two waterfall twists pulled back into a low ponytail; a signature southern hairstyle.

"My Lady.", Ser Wyke greeted Margaery. Margaery entered the tavern in a olive toned gray cloak over her head; four knights from the Reach entered behind her. Her hair was twisted in an updo with loose curls peeking through. At the side of her face were long tendrils of hair. Her blue eyes met Sansa's pair and the two started for one another. They embraced each other in a tight hug.

"Sansa! It's been too long.", Margaery relayed. Sansa squinted her icy blue eyes and smiled.

"Far too long... I'm sorry about your Grandmother—she was a good woman.", Sansa said. She just learned of the news from Ser Wyke who heard it from a local in town. She really did feel bad for her Grandmother as Lady Olenna was one of the few people who was actually kind to her in King's Landing.

"Thank you... How long have you been this far south?", Margaery asked. Her turquoise eyes were full of curiosity.

"A whole moon—I cannot wait to go home.", Sansa scoffed.

"I the same. It's too dangerous for us in the Crownlands."

"Cersei would never expect us to return. If anything we are safer here than in our home lands. She already attacked Winterfell—with wildfyre and my cousin's army.", Sansa stated.

"When I heard the news I didn't believe it. I'm relieved to hear that your home is fine."

"I was worried too, but fate was in our favor. Perhaps if Cersei had used an actual war general instead of Petyr Baelish they would have had a chance in winning.", Sansa said. A small chuckle escaped Margaery's mouth.

"I suppose it is only a matter of time until she brings her army to the Reach. It's the reason I was wary to come here.", Margaery stated. She drew a small breath and relaxed her shoulders.

"Trust that she will. You must maintain your home—after all we are the only allies we have. The only ones we can trust anyways."

"You're right. My brother is Regent Lord until I return—much to his disliking.", Margaery said. Sansa thought of Loras Tyrell and thought of how charming he was. She was sure that he wasn't the same man.

"So the Dragon Queen?", Sansa asked. This was her main concern and though she was glad to see a familiar face she couldn't lose focus.

"Quite a woman.", Margaery stated.

"Is that good or bad?", Sansa asked.

"I'm not sure, but she is offering what I desire: revenge."

"I understand more than anyone else. She will be the one to dethrone Cersei. The question is can we trust her to rule?", Sansa asked. Margaery glanced up to her with piercing eyes. "You've met her as well, you had to see it."

"I'm not sure I know what you are referring to?", Margaery replied. Sansa understood her uneasiness and couldn't blame her for not being blunt.

"There is something dark about her. I've heard the stories about Slaver's Bay. How she crucified a hundred masters all because they disobeyed her. How she murdered all the Khals and united the Khalassars into one. And that was without the help of her dragons... I'm not denying that all of those things are great things, but just because they make her great it doesn't make her right.", Sansa stated.

"I have seen this side of her. During her speech at Highgarden she stated that she would reclaim the Seven Kingdoms with or without the help of her people. It was as if she looks at anyone who still serves Cersei as an enemy—as if they have a choice in the matter.", Margaery included.

"That's what worries me. I see a woman who obtained three dragons—weapons that haven't been in hundreds of years—who believes that it is her destiny to rule the Seven Kingdoms. No matter if she deserves it or not."

"What are we supposed to do if she turns out to be a tyrant? Aegon conquered the Seven Kingdoms with one.", Margaery asked. Sansa picked up her mug and brought it to her lips.

"Well I've already been planning ahead for that. I don't plan on handing Winterfell over to her even if my brother would.", Sansa stated. She wanted to tell her old friend about her plans, but she had to learn from her past. She couldn't share things that would put her family and home at risk. "I would advise you to plan ahead as well."

"Hm. Aye I will.", Margaery stated.

"There is another matter I want to discuss with you.", Sansa stated. Margaery inched forward. "There is a Northern threat coming. It's coming for all of us. Winterfell will be the first stronghold to experience this... Threat. That being said if we needed men, would Highgarden be able to send them?"

"A threat of what kind? Surely not the Wildlings?", Margaery scoffed.

"No. A threat that we have not experienced before—not in eons."

"This seems very elusive. I'm not sure we will have men to send after Cersei marches on our soil. After all the knights of Highgarden aren't known for their strength, however Winterfell and Highgarden have been apart of Westeros the longest. It is our duty to preserve our families' keepsakes. The Reach will honor the call of Winterfell even if are rations serve to be the largest contribution.", Margaery stated. Sansa leaned in and grabbed her friend's hands and smiled.

"Thank you—you know I never got a chance to properly thank you for protecting me in King's Landing. Or your Grandmother for that matter."

"Nonsense it was simply the right thing to do, I never expected anything in return because honestly I saw myself in you. Isolated and expected to thrive in an impossible situation."

"Now we made it back to where we belong: home."

.

Sansa listened at the chatter around her in Winter Town's Great Hall. It had been many nights since she departed from Asheton; the voyage was long and unpleasant. Sansa and her escort Ser Luke were more comfortable traveling in a carriage from White Harbour. Sansa disliked visiting Winter Town when she was a girl because the men there were loud and drunkards. Now she tolerated it because it was her home. She cared about the grounds the castles and towers stood on because her bloodline had ruled there for centuries. Now she would defend it at all costs. Hearing that Winterfell was attacked by Cersei burned a fire into her. For far too long Cersei had been winning. Sansa looked down at all the other aged wood tables and the men raging about the night. She was sitting next to the Regent of Winter Town uninterestedly. Half of her coppery hair twisted up in four twists that conjoined into a bun at the back of her head. The rest cascaded down the back of her dark teal gown, in copper red crimped waves. Her gown was stitched with silver to resemble fish scales wrapped around her shoulders and chest. Down her arms the inseam was lined with grey and black fur that peaked through the seam of the dark teal fabric. Her eyes glanced to a hairy man with a beard holding a mug of ale up to her. His brown eyes stared intently. Sansa glanced to her left and her right to see her neighbors talking amongst themselves. She smirked and looked at the man staring at her. She lifted her mug to signal him to come up to her. He walked up to the table and put his foot on the first step.

"My Lady."

"Hello. You wanted my attention?", Sansa responded.

"Yes well do I have it, my Lady?", the man asked.

"You do—the question is for how long though? Are you a soldier?"

"Of sorts. More importantly I have information on your sister.", the man responded. Santa's face went from relaxed to tense in a second.

"What are you talking about?", Sansa asked. Her thoughts started to race. How does he know Arya? Did something happen? Is she close?

"I know where Arya is, but I can't tell you here. Come with me alone and I'll tell you."

"Why?", she asked.

"The details are sensitive. My patience is running thin, my Lady.", he told her. Sansa looked down and felt herself bending under the pressure. This was her sister who she never wanted to admit she thought was dead or never going to see again. She had to for her or she wouldn't forgive herself.

"My Lady, is everything okay?", Luke asked. Sansa took a breath and relaxed her shoulders. She glanced up to Luke in his brown armor.

"Y-yes Ser Luke. I'm actually going to go for a walk. This sir is going to escort me.", Sansa answered.

"My Lady—"

"Ser Luke it's okay.", Sansa interrupted. She got out of her heavy wooden chair and walked to the hall leading to the outside. She passed three smoldering torches on her walk out—which seemed to take forever. She exited into the dry cold air; the man whom she name she did not know walked a couple of steps in front of her and turned. She fully took in his round shape with hairy masculine features.

"So?", Sansa asked annoyed. She watched her breath escape her mouth. "Let me guess you want a reward?"

"No actually.", the man responded. Sansa watched as the man looked down and put his palm to his face and pinched. Sansa eyes couldn't believe what she saw next. Sansa blinked and took a breath. She looked at where the man was standing and saw Arya. Not the Arya she remembered but an older Arya. Her hair was a couple inches passed her shoulders in their father's signature northern style. Her clothes were mainly foreign with a couple of Northern items such as her diagonally slit fur shaw. Sansa embraced her sister and just breathed. Arya did the same and smiled.

"You know you're an idiot for following me out here.", Arya whispered. Sansa tensed up and took a couple of steps back.

"Arya what was that?"

"A glamour— I am a faceless man now.", Arya responded. Sansa raised her eyebrows and look her shorter sibling up and down. She noticed that her entire wardrobe changed as well as her posture and height. At her waist was her same sword: Needle. Sansa brought her palm up to her Needle necklace and gripped it. She didn't really digest what she told her, but she didn't care. It was all unbelievable to her as she never thought she would see her sister again.

"And glamours, that's one of them?", Sansa asked. She thought about what she was saying and what it meant. Arya really became what she wanted since she was a child; not exactly but a soldier nonetheless. Sansa guessed she also manifested her destiny in a sense.

"Yes. Jon wanted to come, I told him to let me. After all its been six years sister."

"Too long. I can't believe you're here—standing before me. I remember the last time we seen each other like it was yesterday.", Sansa relayed. She embraced her sister again tightly. Arya brought her hand up to Sansa's necklace and touched it.

"Aye." Arya thought of the day in King's Landing when her father, Septa Mordane, and Sansa ate breakfast. She was going to go to her dancing lessons shortly after. It was the last time Sansa seen her, not the last time she saw her sister. Arya remembered the moment her father's head was removed by Ilyn Payne—that was the last time she saw her sister standing by Joffrey. Arya regretted not being the one to get to kill Joffrey, however she still could kill Ilyn Payne and Cersei.

"What's this?", she asked perplexed.

"My needle necklace.", Sansa responded. Arya smirked and drew her sword, twirling it around. Sansa watched as she handled the sword in ways that she never saw a knight do. After a while she smirked and bowed—sheathing her iron.

"I was hopeful about Bran until Jon told me the last he heard of him was North of the Wall. What was he doing up there?", Arya asked.

"I don't know… I wish I did.", Sansa stated. She looked at her sister eyes that never left hers. Her gaze was serious and piercing. Sansa looked away and inhaled as she realized she was forgetting to breathe. She was still in shock.

"You met with the Dragon Queen."

"Yes. She is definitely a monarch.", Sansa stated. Arya raised her thick sable eyebrows.

"Interesting choice of words. What do you mean?", Arya asked.

"She has her outrageous demands to go with her crown. She wishes to wed Jon.", Sansa answered.

"Hm smart though. What was it like seeing her?"

"Her hair is as beautiful as they say—white more so than silver. Her dragons are massive and deadly.", Sansa stated. Sansa thought of the first moment she saw them on the shores of Dragonstone. It was in that moment she knew that Daenerys was going to get exactly what she wanted because she had the means. One would be enough to conquer the Seven Kingdoms again.

"I was hoping that part wasn't true.", Arya stated. Even someone with her skills would be afraid of the wrath of a dragon. Arya was more so afraid of what it could mean for her home.

"Me as well. However I guess we have no other choice in the matter. We will need her armies and dragons for the war to come as Jon would say."

"We will.", Arya stated grimly. "Have you ever known Jon to be a liar?"

"I—uh no. It just seems unbelievable is all."

"After you've seen what we've seen nothing is impossible.", Arya stated.

"So a faceless man? You're a killer now.", Sansa stated. She looked at her sister with a pause.

"Yes.", Arya stated.

"Well you were with the faceless men of Braavos so where did you go after?", Sansa asked.

"The Riverlands—Twins. I brought winter to House Frey."

"That was you?", Sansa asked in disbelief. Her sister took out a great deal of her family's enemies and that was something that gave her joy, knowing that a Stark was the one to slaughter the same family that murdered hers.

"Yes.", Arya answered. Sansa smirked. "Why are you smirking?"

"Because power looks good on a woman.", Sansa stated.

"So according to the high tales you were married three times?", Arya asked.

"Two—almost three. Tyrion Lannister then Ramsey Bolton. Thank the Gods I wasn't married to Joffrey."

"The imp?! I'd hoped that part wasn't true too.", Arya said. She remembered watching the plays of the Purple Wedding in Braavos and thought of missing her home. Now she was there again. It was a breath of cold piney air for her.

"Yes you'd be surprised, he was the best of them. Joffrey and Ramsay were both monsters.", Sansa relayed. She thought of the two and shivered at her memories with them. Specifically Ramsay as he not only hurt her mind but her body as well. Compared to Ramsay, Joffrey was just a spoiled boy with too much pride.

"I've heard about them. I do wish Joffrey was still here so that I could have his head on a spike posted outside the walls.", Arya stated. Sansa looked at her perplexed unsure of what to say. It was clear that her sister was different now. The two looked at each other and shared a small smirk. "The walls."

Sansa watched as her sister's eyes filled with worry. "What?"

.

"I warned you about Cersei.", Sansa stated. She was appalled by the destruction of the walls and hurt to be right in the end. "I told you she would march North, now look at the walls. Building them back up will use time and resources that should be going towards our defenses."

"The walls are our defenses.", Jon stated without humor. Sansa glanced up at him and glared.

"You know what I mean. After all the North would be the first to experience this threat of the army of dead."

"Don't mock me Sansa.", Jon stated. He stood in front of the Weirwood tree in a dark grey cloak, black and white fox fur wrapped around his shoulders. His sable hair was pulled back into a sleek bun.

"I'm not. Look you need to be more accepting of other opinions on the matter. After all how do you expect others to believe you outright—without any proof whatsoever?", Sansa questioned. A cloud of breath could be seen leaving her mouth with her words. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were tinted pink from the cold of winter.

"Sansa what did the dragon queen have to say?", Arya asked. She was attempting to have a more productive conversation.

"She wishes to wed Jon, to give her relation to Westeros.", Sansa stated. She watched her siblings stir.

"Jon?", Arya asked.

"So the Dragon Queen wants a King?", Jon asked. His head was tilted and his brown eyes were looking expectantly.

"Yes.", Sansa replied.

"No doubt she wants to have the support of the North and the South.", Arya included.

"Yes. That would make me King of the Seven Kingdoms if she were to win the war.", Jon stated. It sounded odd to him and also wasn't something he was aspiring for.

"Which she will. Jon her dragons are real and even bigger than we thought. I watched them on the shores of Dragonstone. Combined the three of them are the size of one of the salt mountains there.", Sansa responded.

"It's a good strategy for our house too. The question is can she be trusted?", Arya asked.

"Sansa you met her?", Jon asked.

"Yes, but it would be foolish to judge her character based on one encounter. I mean she seemed forefront with her intentions, but this is the North we are talking about. Nearly a million lives at stake.", Sansa argued.

"The people won't expect you to do this. After all her father murdered our uncle and grandfather. The Mad King.", Arya stated. She drifted her gaze to the flames of the fire in front of her. The light casting dancing shadows on the side of her round face.

"I will tell the people that this is a political alliance. This will seal our deal for the dragon glass.", Jon said. Sansa watched him tilt his head down and she honestly felt bad for him. He would lose the right to fall in love and choose his wife. Sansa knew how he was feeling.

"Maybe we can convince her to wait until after the war. The people should be given the chance to earn her trust. I'm sure she would be gracious enough to allow it.", Sansa said. She turned her head to Jon and looked sympathetically. Her copper wavy hair glowing from the orange light of the fire. Jon looked at her.

"No. It is my duty as King in the North to protect the people here. The only way I can do it is by doing this.", Jon responded lowly.

"But Jon—", Sansa started.

"It is final sister.", Jon stated.

"So that's that.", Arya relayed. She was attempting to break the silence. "So what of the war with the dead?"

"Well your Queen expects to deal with that war after King's Landing is seized.", Sansa stated.

"What?", Jon asked. "I'll tell her that part of the arrangement has to be that this war has to be won first."

"What proof do you have? I believe you because I'm your sister. Will she?", Arya asked.

"I will make her believe me.", Jon answered. He pinched his forehead and sighed.

"What will we do against them? You said they could be killed by fire and dragon glass?", Arya asked.

"And Valyrian steel.", Jon replied. "I don't know how they plan on getting through the wall, but they will. There must be hundreds of thousands of them."

"What do they want?", Sansa asked. This was one of the few times Sansa ever entertained the discussion of the army of the dead.

"It's death. When has there ever been a reason for it to come. It can't be escaped… We worshipped the god of death in Braavos, it's where our abilities come from. There were also ancient books about the original servants of death known as the Old Ones. They were amongst the Andals and they worshipped the Night in which death came. They did this to be spared during winter—it was said many strange things came during it", Arya stated.

"The Old Ones? Maester Wolkan should look through the library for mentions of them. Jon your friend at the Citadel should as well.", Sansa included.

"Aye."

"I can't believe we're here together. It doesn't seem real.", Sansa said after moments of silence. A gust of wind came through the Godswood rustling the leaves on the trees around them. Sansa's red hair blew behind her in an elegant dance.

"No it doesn't.", Jon murmured.

"We are all that we have now—we must protect each other at all costs.", Arya added. She looked at the castles and closed her eyes breathing in the minty scent of the pine. She could see her previous life as a child with her family and smirked.

.

"Ser Nute."

"Uh-Lady Sansa how may I help you? My Lady you travelled alone at this hour?", he asked. Sansa entered the torch lit armoury with a raven feathered cloak over her. Her fiery hair was braided back in her Mother's signature Tully style.

"Yes—never mind that. I came here alone to show you my wish for you."

…

Next time: Sansa is reminded of her traumatic past and takes on a responsibility.