A/N: I've changed the timings slightly so that Dany is ready to sail at the same time as Sansa has escaped Winterfell. In this story line, she has not been to Vaes Dothrak and the Second Sons have accompanied her.

Sansa Stark was starving. A few months ago, she would use that word when she was hungry. She did not know what she knew now: that starvation can rip you apart inside, rather than just gnaw at your stomach. She was starving now. A few days ago, Theon had found some berries that they could eat for certain and they'd eaten them. Since then, the only thing that had passed her lips was potentially harmful water. But it was better than dying.

All they had to do was get to Jon.

They could freeze and starve and feel as though they were wandering and doing nothing for days on end. None of it mattered as long as they were alive when they reached Jon, who would look after them, who would keep them safe and warm and fed.

They just had to get to Jon.

Every time she remembered how cold she was or how hungry she was or how much she missed her family or how much she still ached from everything that Ramsay did to her, every time any of that crossed her mind she just had to remind herself that they just had to get to Jon. Every time Theon said anything about any of it, she just said it again: all they had to do was to get to Jon.

Theon was her everything. He kept them going when all she wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep and never wake up again. He reminded her of who they were fighting for. He told her stories from their childhood.

They slept curled up together for warmth. His nightmares woke her up just like hers did him. She heard him screaming and sobbing and apologising and she held him to her and whispered to him until he slept again. When he heard her scream, he did the same. He told her what the future would be like, how she would be the Lady of Winterfell and they would burn Ramsay at the stake and laugh while he screamed. He told pretty stories about Cersei's death and the freedom of the North, until Sansa could see enough happy things behind her eyes to fall asleep.

The direction was difficult. Of course, they headed north, but whether they were headed to Castle Black was another matter entirely. Sansa had never made the arduous journey before, towards more and more clouds and snow and cold, further away from death and demons.

Theon stopped suddenly and looked up at the air. Sansa winced. Perhaps it was about to rain. As the sound of their footfalls faded away, Sansa heard what had made Theon stop. Horses. There were horses nearby. Theon grabbed Sansa's arm roughly and dragged her with him. Sansa had no idea where he was taking her.

It was getting louder. The horses were getting closer. Sansa could not figure out which direction they were coming from. Had there been a road earlier? Surely they were coming from that direction. Which direction had it been?

Theon stopped dragging her and looked around. Sansa did the same. There had to be somewhere to hide. They were only two people and the horses sounded-

It was an army. Sansa froze. An army. What if it was Ramsay's army? Sansa knew he was looking for her. She was his wife and she had run away so-

"Sansa," Theon urged, and Sansa had no idea what he was urging her to do. What on earth could she do? Ramsay had found her. She'd finally got away, run away, and he'd found her.

Bile rose in her throat. He'd found her and he was going to drag her back to Winterfell. He was going to bend her over the bed and rape her again. Rape her until she was pregnant with his baby. Like he'd tried to do so many times. He'd rape her and cut her and beat her until she would never run away again.

"Theon, I'm going to be sick," Sansa cried, crouching down and then standing straight back up. Theon, what would they do to Theon? Sansa started to move. Everything was so noisy. Her breaths were coming rapidly and she could hear Theon calling her. Her legs hurt but they moved. They moved to where was safe. Where was safe?

Had she ever been safe? Tyrion. Tyrion had said he would protect her but then Littlefinger had taken her and then she supposed she'd felt safe for a while and then he'd sold her to Ramsay and then Theon- Theon-

The floor swivelled so that it was in Sansa's face.

Or, rather, she fell, onto a road. So this was where the road was.

Shifting her aching body onto the other side, Sansa stared ahead at the procession which she had fallen in front of. Her heart was racing, her breathing not far behind. Pushing herself back onto her hands, Sansa tried to crawl backwards. Ramsay was here for her.

Sansa's head span to the side where she heard movement from the trees. In her mind, she imagined Ramsay bursting out and putting his hands on her. Without control, Sansa turned to the side and threw up. When she looked up, wiping her mouth, she found Theon, holding a stick and moving to position himself in front of her.

"You may not hurt her!" he shouted at the army which stretched as far as the eye could see.

"We will not hurt either of you," the voice at the head of army said and it was a woman's voice. A kind voice. Sansa ignored it. Ramsay's voice had been kind once. Joffrey's voice had been kind once. Littlefinger- "What are your names?" the woman asked and Sansa sneaked a glance at her.

She was unfathomably beautiful, with braided blonde hair and wide eyes. She sat atop her horse like she was the most important person on the planet. Maybe she was. Who knew what had changed in the time that she and Theon had been away from Winterfell?

Theon stood up straighter and held his stick out further, but did not speak. Sansa continued to crawl away on her hands. The stones cut into her hands but she couldn't find it in herself to care. She had to get away. Surely, this woman was Ramsay's latest fling. Miranda had been a strong woman. This woman may be a warrior. Perhaps she would kill Sansa so she could marry him.

Theon was walking backwards too, Sansa saw. They would run away again, like they had after Winterfell. They'd survived that, hadn't they? They just had to get to Jon.

"Please, let us help you."

It was a man's voice this time. They were trying to trick her, just like Ramsay had tried with Theon. They would pretend to want to help her and then take her back to Ramsay. Sansa shook her head vehemently. She would not go with these people.

"Stay away!" Theon cried.

There was a sound like someone getting off a horse. Sansa watched as the woman approached. She had the darkest skin Sansa had ever seen and her hair was as wild as it was beautiful. She had a kind face but Sansa continued to crawl away from her. Lots of people had kind faces. Joffrey's face was kind once.

"Haedar," she said in a foreign, soothing accent. Sansa didn't know what that term meant so she ignored it.

"No," Sansa cried out.

"Haedar, calm. You are safe now. I am Missandei and this is Queen Daenerys. She will protect you."

Daenerys Targaryen. Sansa knew her name. Everyone knew her name. It was an easy lie to tell.

Even if it was her, what's to say she was safe? She was the dragon queen, famed for her ruthlessness.

So, Sansa kept running, kept pushing herself away. She would get far enough and then stand and run and she and Theon would reach Jon. They just had to get to Jon.

Tears were slipping down Sansa's cheeks. They just had to get to Jon. Was this it? All their running, all their struggling. Would it all end here?

Sobs came from Sansa's throat. They just had to get to Jon. "Jon," she sobbed.

"Sansa," Theon said and she could hear how broken he was in his voice. They were two broken things. Broken by Ramsay.

What if the Boltons had made a deal with Daenerys? What if they were giving her the North so that she could take over the country? What if all they wanted was Sansa Stark back?

"I will not," Sansa cried, covering her face. Missandei was still by her and Sansa wanted to get far away from the woman. She had come to take her, to send her back to her prison, her rapist's home that had once been hers.

"Please," Sansa sobbed.

"Can't you see what you're doing?" Theon shouted. "No! No, stay away!"

Sansa didn't even look to see who Theon was shouting at this time. She didn't want to know. This was the end. They wouldn't get to Jon. They would go back to Winterfell and Ramsay would make Sansa watch while he tortured and killed Theon. He would rape her again, force her in the room that had once belonged to her brother Robb. Just like before.

Sansa retched. Missandei finally stepped away and Sansa's breath came out in sharp breaths of relief.

She could get away now. She could get Theon and they could run.

Someone was coming closer. It was Theon. Theon would grab her and they would run. Run away, to Jon. To safety.

It wasn't Theon. She could hear him speaking to someone far away from her. No, no. Who was it? "No," Sansa cried, taking her hand from her face.

Her lips parted as she saw who was approaching. Her heart wrenched.

"Oh, love," were the first words she heard as her first husband came close to her. "What have they done to you?"

Her sobs increased tenfold as she was enveloped into the arms of Tyrion Lannister.