Hi all,

I know! A miracle must have taken place for a chapter to be published to this story! Honestly, I don't have any excuses why I haven't posted more regularly, only that life has gotten in the way more than I thought possible! I appreciate any reviews, any favourites, and apologise for my absence.

Stay safe!

Slightlynerdy.

She rode carelessly. Careening past farmers hauling their wagons of wheat, narrowly missing the milk maids and the stable boys as she galloped at full pelt back towards the Eyrie. Maybe she could get some help, maybe she could convince Baelish to send men out to look for Sandor. To bring him back to her, dead or alive. She tapped Maiden's side again, urging her to press on as she flew across the rocky road towards her goal. People cursed her as they went by, shaking their fists, but they were simply white noise. She couldn't hear them. All she could think of was Sandor.

Sandor…

She pulled back on the reins, Maiden came to a sliding stop, as did Stranger. Tarynn shook her head, whispering to herself, "What am I doing?" The humble denizens of the Bloody Gate began to shriek and run when Tome came into view, and despite herself, Tarynn laughed. She reached down, ruffling Tome's fur before straightening up, her mind made, "We have to go back for him." With her free hand, the other was cradling Edmon, she sharply whipped the rein and wheeled Maiden around before charging off in the direction that she had just come from. She must have made such a sight, having just flown towards the Bloody Gate and was now riding away from it just as furiously. However, she kept her head down and ignored the quizzical glares and stares that she was receiving.

It took her longer than she had hoped to reach the rocky outcropping set in the middle of the moors where she had last seen Sandor. There was no clanging of metal, no furious noises of anger. She retraced her steps slowly on Maiden, making sure that her horse didn't lose her footing. Scanning the mossy rocks and steep declines for any sign of Sandor, or Brienne. She couldn't see either them but did notice a large dash of blood on a boulder. Her heart clenched, if that was Sandor's he may be seriously hurt or worse. She called for Tome.

"Find him Tome, find Sandor." She took one of his linen shirts from her pack, and held it down for her direwolf to sniff. He did so, and in a matter of seconds, began loping across the scenery. With a click of her tongue, she urged Maiden to follow the hunting beast, muttering prayers with every breath she took. Maiden skidded down over rocks, causing Tarynn's heart to rise to her throat. She clutched at Edmon, who at the sudden jolt let out a howling scream, his face screwed up tightly. She tried to comfort him but nothing would stall his crying. Behind them, Stranger neighed, shaking his strong black neck before trying to pull away from Maiden, that was when Tome came back to them, his muzzle slathered with blood. Tarynn swung off Maiden, deciding to lead the horses along before they all plummeted to their death. She looked at Tome, who stood nearly to her shoulder, "Have you found him?" Tome lowered his head slightly, before veering off and heading down a narrow path down the craggy rock face. Tarynn followed him carefully, ensuring that neither Maiden nor Stranger slipped off.

When they had reached solid ground, Tome ran off, his lithe frame rippling with pure muscle. She followed him at a slight jog, only to witness the scene that she had feared. Sandor sat slumped against the rock face, a trail of slimy, wet blood marked where he had dragged himself. His arm was at an awful angle, and blood poured from his neck. His side was slashed as well. A wordless scream left Tarynn's mouth as she ran full pelt towards him, the horses racing behind her. Edmon still wailing in her arms. She skidded to a stop, holding a crying Edmon with one hand, she let go of the horses' reins and reached forward to touch Sandor's face. His eyes were closed, but as soon as Tarynn's fingers swept over his cheek they flickered open, grey and hazy with pain.

Oh thank the Gods… He's still alive.

She placed Edmon on the ground, nestled among leaves and twigs, before ripping off Maiden's pack. She rummaged inside, hunting for the salves, poultices and bandages they had traded for in a village three weeks ago. She found what she was searching for, and laid them out before beginning to play nurse. Tome stood by her protectively, watching over, ears pricking whenever even the faintest rustle shattered the quiet. All Tarynn could hear was her own heartbeat thudding in her chest, reverberating through her skull. Time seemed to slow as she shakily started taking off pieces of Sandor's armour. The strikes that Brienne of Tarth had made were laid out like a map on Sandor's skin. Bruising where his armour had taken the force of the sword, deep cuts where it hadn't. The side of his head was oozing dark blood too, which looked particularly worrisome. Beads of sweat crested his head, and he was running a fever. She mashed the herbs with a bit a water, adding some of the poultice that they already carried to create an even more potent mixture. She crushed it all together hastily, creating a thick paste. There wasn't enough to go on every wound, so she had to prioritise. She used some of their drinking water to flush out the wounds, Sandor grunted in pain but did not scream out. He was delirious. Deftly, she swiped some of her poultice over the side of Sandor's head, covering what remained of the bite. It looked infected. She bandaged up his head tightly, hoping that the pressure would stop the bleeding, and that the bandage would hold until she found a healer in a village.

Sandor was a big man, a giant. He far outweighed her, and she had no hope of getting him onto Stranger on her own. The black horse moved close to his master, sensing the pain. Tears began flowing down her cheeks as she realised how alone she felt then, and how many people were depending on her. Edmon gurgled delightfully, blissfully unaware of what his father was going through. She knelt and prayed, her hands, stained with Sandor's blood, pressed together. Hoping for a miracle.

Tarynn did not know how long she sat there, but the sun began to sink and the clouds began to cover the sky like a blanket. She nursed Edmon, and cared for Sandor. Taking his temperature, checking he wounds for any signs of infection. The horses fed nearby and she listened to her stomach as it began to rumble with hunger, when suddenly she began listening to something else rumbling. The sound got louder and louder, until she scrambled to her feet and went to the road nearby. A wagon, pulled by a draught horse, was going by. The man on the front wore a droopy hat, and he had a grey beard which obscured most of his face. Nevertheless, friend or foe, she had very little left to lose and felt that she had no choice but to throw herself and this stranger's feet and beg for mercy. She shouted, and waved her free arm. The man slowed his horse to a shuddering stop and called back to her and relieve flooded her weary heart. She ran to his side, her babe still cradled to her breast.

"Sir, oh thank the Gods you stopped. I have… my husband… he is injured and in need of help. I have dressed his wounds but I am no healer and…"

The man raised his hand to pause her, "What the Gods will, they will provide, and I would thank the gods extra today."

Tarynn soon learnt, through small talk whilst they were getting Sandor into the back of the wagon, that the man who had stopped was a Priest.

"My name is Father Ray, child. A Septon of the Seven, and your husband, he has suffered greatly but his wounds are not fatal. Let us go back to my village, and my people, and see what we can do."

The Septon helped her tie Maiden and Stranger to the back of the wagon, whilst she sat up on the front seat. Soon enough, the wagon set off, rumbling over stones and ruts in the road with ease. Tarynn looked back over her shoulder at the towering stone and rocks of the Eyrie, a twisting feeling in her gut. They had gotten so close to a safe harbour. Baelish, despite his games, was still someone who could offer her and her child protection, although perhaps it would be foolish to trust him, she had to risk it. For the sake of Edmon.

Tarynn bit her lip, and then placed her hand on the Father's arm. "I'm sorry Father, could you stop the wagon."

She knew deep down that she needed to return to her family, that she had to ensure that Cersei and her spawn did not win Westeros. That she had a duty to the Starks, to honour her father, to reunite with her remaining brothers and sisters. She was certain that the Gods would cause herself and Sandor to reunite one day. She jumped down off the wagon, unhitching Maiden with one arm before climbing up into her saddle.

"Look after him for me Father. And when he is recovered, tell him to look for me where the Eagle makes its nest."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and gently nudged Maiden into a quick gallop, not giving herself the chance to look back nor for the Septon to ask any questions. Making her way towards the towering Eyrie and home of the Arryns.

The ride up to the steep height of the Eyrie, and the castle of the Arryns had put Tarynn's heart in her mouth. She had removed all her gold, and belongings from Maiden who had been stabled save below on the ground and entrusted them to a small grey donkey that was being led by the stocky Raven-haired girl who had cheerfully told her that she will be leading them up. Tome followed behind, at a good distance, she didn't want the donkeys to spook. It had taken a good while to convince the soldiers guarding the bottom that she was Tarynn Baratheon, nee Stark, and wished to be presented to Baelish.

"Lord Baelish is Protector of the Vale, and Lord Robin, he now rules the Vale."

Well this causes a problem, Robin is a child, sickly and weak, but perhaps a child will be easier to convince.

Eventually she had little truth but to reveal the Stark sigil and stamp that had belonged to her father, the soldiers still seemed doubtful, but as soon as they saw the towering Tome, they allowed her passage, quaking in their boots at the site of the massive Direwolf. However, with shaking voices, they did warn her her that if there was any funny business and they would throw her out the Moon Door. By the time they had reached the end of their journey, Tarynn was shaking, from the cold and exhaustion.

"I'll stay by here, with the Donkeys and your belongings, while they decide what, and well I guess, who you are." She ended the conversation with a smile. Leaving Tarynn to compose herself. The soldier at the door had already gone ahead and informed her cousin that the lost Lady Tarynn Baratheon had turned up at the Eyrie with her infant son. She breathed the cold, thin air in deeply, waiting for the door to swing open.

"Lady Tarynn Baratheon." The man announced her name as she walked as confidently, and as composed as she dared into the room. Her clothes were soiled, her hair messed, although it had grown to her shoulders now. The denizens of the Eyrie sat in chairs in a semi-circle around a large hole in the floor. The person who sat in the middle, in a grand chair, however was not her child cousin. His small goatee was perfectly kept, and his black grey hair was primly cut and styled. She couldn't make out the badge on his lapel, but she knew exactly what it was. It was a Mockingbird.

Littlefinger, so we meet again.

A gasp sounded from another of the people sat in the chairs. And a slender figure with black hair stood. Tarynn didn't really recognise who it was, she was too far away to really make out many distinguishing marks, but as soon as the girl spoke, a wobble in her voice, Tarynn knew instantaneously.

"Tarynn? Is that…"

Tarynn stepped forward, but Littlefinger raised his hand, a silent sign that she should stay where she was.

Fine, I'll play your games.

"Sit down daughter, he spoke to the dark haired Sansa, we have no idea, nor proof, if this woman is the late Tarynn Baratheon, or an imposter."

Late? They thought I was dead? Well, no better cover than death, that's why they didn't send many soldiers to pursue. They didn't think I survived outside of King's Landing.

"Trust me, my Lord. I am exactly who I claim to be."

Littlefinger stood up, moving closer to scrutinise her. "Well you do have a child, dark hair, but any peasant woman could have those features."

Tarynn shook her head, and clicked her fingers. Gasps went up through the court onlookers, women began to fan themselves more furiously and a few of the braver men, those clad in iron armour stood to get a closer look. Tome padded into full view, coming to a halt next to Tarynn. None of the guards had had the guts to refuse Tome entry, not when they were staring at a full grown beast who had walked out of legend.

"Do you not believe me now, Lord Baelish?" She straightened her back, drawing herself up as much as possible, creating a commanding presence. "I ask for bread and salt at your table, I ask for safe harbour."

Littlefinger glanced around the room, a man who Tarynn did not recognise stood. He was an aging man, soft in the middle which he hid behind a silver heavy plated cuirass, a sky blue coat hung from his shoulders. "I have heard tales of Ned and Catelyn's oldest daughter married to Renly Baratheon, she was said to have died as she was fleeing King's Landing after the Battle of the Blackwater."

"I had friends, Lord…"

"Royce."

Ah, a vassal of the Arryns.

"Friends who helped me escape the clutches of Cersei Lannister and her manipulations. The Lannisters murdered my father, held myself and my sister captive. I had no clue as to what they would have done to my son, Renly's heir, I had no chance but to leave at the earliest opportunity. I was aided in that endeavour by a noble man who has since… perished at the hands of an enemy. I am Tarynn Baratheon, formely Stark, I was named in honour of the ruling house of the Arryn's, after your Lord, the Late Robert Arryn. I am here asking for aid, if you do not believe me my Lords, then you are all fools."

She waited with bated breath. Hoping that they believed her, that they would let her hide in the Eyrie with Edmon, whilst she thought about the next step.

Littlefinger waved his hand, "We will grant you safe harbour, Lady Baratheon. You have certainly convinced me, and whilst you stayed in King's Landing we did speak a few times. I recognised you, but I could not be certain until you laid out your case in front of the court…" Littlefinger turned to the other members of the court, "Any objections?" Silence filled the air, and Tarynn's heart relaxed within her chest. "Please, my daughter, Alayne, will show you to your quarters, my Lady."

And just like that, Tarynn was accepted within the high thick walls of the Eyrie. Her mind travelled to Sandor, wounded, in the care of a Septon.

He's going to hate that. He's always telling the Gods to fuck themselves, but perhaps a little faith wouldn't go amiss.

Sansa, whom Littlefinger called Alayne, appeared in front of her. A thousand questions popped into Tarynn's mind. Sansa's bright blue eyes were incredulous as she took in Tarynn's filthy features, she stood a full head taller than Tarynn, lithe and slender whilst Tarynn was shorter, with a fair bit of a tummy, although she had dropped a bit of weight whilst being on the run. Sansa had grown, and seemed almost more womanly than Tarynn could remember. Although she still had childlike facial features, they were slowly starting to sharpen. Sansa looked a lot like their mother.

"I can hardly believe it's you… I… the Queen… She told me you had died, that she had seen your body, and that of your babe's, with her own eyes." Sansa moved forward, as if to hug Tarynn.

Tarynn shook her head ever so slightly, and said in a hushed breath, "This is a conversation we can have in the quiet of a bedroom chamber, not in front of a court of Lords. We have a lot to catch up on."

Sansa bobbed her head quickly before gesturing with an outstretched arm, "Follow me. The castle is large and full of hallways, it's easy to get lost."

Before she left the Great Hall with Sansa, Tarynn looked back at Littlefinger sat on his great seat. His eyes met hers and he smiled, a small, sharp, pertinent smile. Tarynn knew that he would start to play his games soon. She just had to be ready for it.

With that she swept from the room with her baby in her arms, her wolf padding along softly behind her, and a lost sister, now found, slightly treading beside her. Her mind wandered to Arya, running alone in the woods of Westeros, heading for a ship bound for the East, or maybe to the North, to Castle Black where their bastard brother Jon Snow was. She prayed silently in her head, what she had witnessed Arya to be capable of during their travels together, she hoped would keep her alive during this difficult time. Tarynn attempted to console herself, having lost one sister, she found another. But it seemed as if the Gods and fate did not want them all to be together just yet. Arya was strong, and if anyone could survive the trials of the future it was the youngest daughter of Eddard Stark. Tarynn shook herself from her thoughts and focused herself not to think of those left behind and lost, but of tomorrow and of survival.

It would all be for nothing, if I faltered now.