Themirrorminder.372259 saw this chapter coming! :)

Chapter Ten: Obsidian Dreams and the Big Bad Wolf

Sansa

She looked at the slab of obsidian, the size of her old hand mirror she had left at home in Winterfell, sitting on her vanity neatly, waiting for her return. It was strange, the things from home that stuck out in her mind were never what she thought she would miss. She could see herself staring back on the dark surface, making it seem as though she was hidden in shadows, the candles burning brightly all around her.

"Remember child, let the gods speak through you, just open yourself to their words and let your eyes see what they will. They will show you what you need to see." Was the witches reply to the unspoken question that Sansa had in her mind and plain on her pretty face.

With a nod and a look of determination, Sansa looked again at the black mirrored sheet of rock, beautiful and dark, so like her old gods, and let herself be taken by their wisdom. She felt nothing initially, and then, slowly she felt the tingling in her hands that creeped up her arms and down the rest of her body slowly take over. The energy in the room seemed to vibrate and she was sensitive enough to feel it's movement. Her mind seemed to become aware of things she had not noticed before, the heat from the surrounding candles in combination with the chilled Autumn air blowing in the open window, the smell of herbs, grass and dirt, the whispers of the spirits of these woods, barely a breath of wind. Her body seemed to hum, not from within but from them. Reaching her, touching, through her.

xoxoxo

Then, within the blink, she wasn't in the witch's cabin anymore, instead she was in a room, filled with blood and filled with the screams of women. It painted the walls and all around her there were the sounds of women screaming. She looked around her and her eyes focused on Arya instantly, her teeth deep in the throat of a man who seemed to have ripped her loose tunic open, exposing her young skin. The man opened his mouth and clawed at the savage girl but it only seemed to encourage Arya to bite down harder, causing deeper ripples of blood to flow from her mouth. He began to gurgle and then, with a swift movement, Arya had stabbed him in the temple with a small dagger she took from his waist, to completely silence him.

Sansa covered her mouth in utter horror as she watched her sister let the body fall limply, revealing her covered in blood, starting at her mouth and running down her entire person. But there was something more, something different about her Arya. Her eyes held in them a beast that Sansa had never before seen or known to live in the wild-heart of her sister. Her eyes were like the wolves their house honored, cold, calculating and hungry for blood. All around the girl an energy swirled, dark and heavy, feeding the fire in the small girls body, feeding off the blood she shed. Something had her. Something held her. But what?

Before Sansa could look closer at the swirling energy that twisted and writhed around Arya she was suddenly pulled from the bloody scene and was standing in the woods which almost seemed familiar to Sansa, the stars shining overhead, barely visible through the dense canopy above.

The air seemed heavy still with the same energy she had felt twisting around Arya wherever it was they had been before. Sansa soon understood when she saw Arya, naked and kneeling before a strange, faceless Heart Tree, and before a massive beast of a Wolf.

Nymeria. She thought soundly as the two stared at one another. All around more wolves appeared and Sansa became more and more nervous for her sister, surrounded and alone.

Stark. The word floated on the wind similar to the whispers of the spirits she had heard that floated in the trees, but louder. Yellow eyes stared intensely at Sansa as Arya fell limply to the forest floor and then a howl left the great wolf's lips that echoed all the loss Sansa had ever felt her entire life. The sound twisted in her soul and she wanted to call out, to cry with the great beast, but before her lips could open, she was gone.

Again, the world shifted around her and again she was surrounded by screams and shouts but this time it was those of men rather than women. All except one fierce cry that pierced through the rest. She spun quickly, peering through the hazy air, and her eyes fell on her sister, two blades in hand, fighting in the thick of a battle that would surely end up in some minstrels song. Again, the darkness swirled heavily around her and seemed to help her with every movement. One after another after another fell to her sister's swords and the woman showed no signs of slowing. She moved with the grace of a predator and agility and stamina of a child. Each movement she made was preceded by the dark presence, reaching out first, as if to guide her a long. None could best her, none came close. She was as fierce as the old winters from stories. I forgiving and unyielding.

When the battle was won and the men with coats as red as the ground beneath them now defeated, Arya tilted her head back and howled into the sky. "The wolves will feast tonight!" She shouted, raising her larger sword, high into the air.

All around her the men cheered and hooted, and then they chanted her name. "Stark, Stark, Stark!" A sound of howls came on the wind and the cries of those who lost the battle could be heard over the roar.

xoxoxo

Sansa gasped and jumped to her feet, letting the obsidian stone fall to the floor. The candles around her flickered and a cold gust of wind poured through the window like a rush of water breaking through a dam. The cold air washed over her, helping her center herself back to reality, to find her center.

Stark.

She had heard the word clear as day and it had come from the wolf. She was sure.

The witch was to her in an instant, taking her arm gently to steady her. "Sometimes the gods are not gentle in the messages or visions. You seem shaken child, would you tell an old woman what you saw?" Her voice was calm and soothing.

Sansa nodded and closed her eyes remembering each detail. She told the old woman everything she saw, from the blood coating the walls in the room she had been in to the wolf howling to the night. She felt herself crying as she told of poor Arya having to literally fight tooth and nail for her life, ripping the throat of a man with her teeth alone. She told her of the force she had felt, and seen, swirling around her in heavy waves. She told her of the wolf and how she thought she heard the beast speak her name into the night.

When Sansa finished and had quieted it was later yet still in the night. It was well past the hour of the wolf and dawn would be upon them soon. The witch was thinking, staring darkly in the flames of the closest candle which had burned low through the hours of their crafting. "I believe I know why the gods showed you these things if you will humor an old woman lovely thing?" Her shaky voice came out in a croak as she reached a hand to take the younger woman's.

"Of course! I defer entirely to your wisdom." Sansa said, clutching at the woman's hand as if it were a life line. She was so confused, not only by the vision itself but the fact that she was capable of such things. There had been a time when she never would have believed any of the things that had happened to her over the past years, especially the most recent events of practicing magic.

"She was bathed in the blood of an enemy, ripped the throat and drank his power. She stripped bare under the moon and gave herself to the wolf. She is reborn, Sansa." Her voice held the wisdom of hundred of years and still it made little sense to Sansa.

"Reborn? What about the swirling thing that was around her? I felt it there. IT helped her I think..." Sansa asked desperately. She wanted to know that her sister was safe.

"There are things in this world that are older than anyone can remember to have ever been. They are so old that most have forgotten their existence entirely. But, there are a few, a very special few my sweet, that are receptive to these beings. The beings will bless them, guide them, and grace them with power, but there is always a price to be paid. Your sister is paying her price in blood it appears, the blood of those that dare try to tame the North."

Xoxoxo

The inn buzzed with excitement as Sandor made his way into the over crowded mess. All around him whores and men laughed and shouted happily, it was enough to make him want to wretch. There was nowhere else to go though to enjoy a drink so instead, he tried his best to ignore the obnoxious people all around him.

"Need some company stranger?" a whore asked as she saddled up next to him at the table he had claimed for himself. He said nothing, only ignoring the woman and not turning on her. "A big and silent type? Who could it be under that hood? The Bastard King himself?" She snickered to herself as he remained silent.

"Oh Mary, you know that he ain't that big yet. He's still not even twenty!" Another woman scolded teasingly from another bench with another, more interested man.

"A girl can dream can't she? Why him and the Wolf haven't been back in near about a year! Not since the Lannisters came." Mary said brightly, forgetting about the man she had been speaking to moments before.

Sandor snorted rudely into his drink.

"You've something to say suddenly, stranger?" Mary asked, carefully guarding her tone.

"Aye, I have something to ask." He said gruffly, turning to glare at the woman who had sat beside him uninvited. "What do you know about the Stark bitch?"

The women who were scattered throughout the room all seemed to have heard him, their eyes now on him. He felt on guard immediately as a woman a few tables over stood and began approaching him and the blonde beside him, Mary she'd been called. "I would watch what you called her in this Tavern."

"That right? You lot rally to her then?" Sandor asked, his tone ever gruff. He didn't even bother looking up from the chicken he was eating.

"She has saved many of us. She gives us a great deal every time she comes through. More than any man had ever given us. So watch what you say about the wolf or get the fuck out." The woman spit on the floor beside him, cursing him.

He stood then and turned to tower over the woman, "Tell your wolf to come hunting for a stray dog. She'll find him in a hill. There's a pretty bird thats missed her."

The woman scowled at the Hound. "What trickery is this?"

"Just tell the girl. Damn whore."

He left then, not paying for him meal.

Xoxoxoxo

Tyrion set the cup down and stared at the letter penned carefully to his father the Lord Hand. Roose Bolton had accepted their invitation on the most dangerous hunt any had ever been on. They were to hunt down the big bad wolf.

The poor girl didn't know what was coming for her unfortunately and Tyrion felt somewhat uncomfortable being one of the men to plot her downfall. His father wanted to be done with the girl and had called in favor of the man who had murdered her brother. Roose Bolton would aide Tywin and Tywin would award the Boltons for aiding the crown and destroy the Shewolf in one go. He planned to let Bolton marry the girl himself or let his son do it and legitimize the bastard to boot. But that was only if Tywin did not decide to marry the child to Jamie and banish the two to Casterly Rock to produce a small soldier army. That would be a fate worse than death for the little warrior princess. Both fates.

So now he was here, drinking and feeling guilty about protecting his family against such a fearsome child. He must be drunk. Woe is the life of a Lannister with a heart.

"Are you still brooding?" It was the last voice he wanted to hear right then. His father seemed determined to torment him not only mentally but in the flesh as well.

"Just drinking actually." Oh he was drunk. His speech though coherent was slurred noticeably. And his emotions betrayed. How much had he drank?

His father scoffed. "And brooding. It's all you seem to do."

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company father?" Tyrion snapped. He didn't want to do this tonight. He just wanted to drink until he couldn't think.

"I wanted to let you know I am leaving in the morning to meet with Bolten. Jamie is going with me. You will act as Hand to the King in my stead and this will not happen. Do you understand me Tyrion?" His father's voice was firm and fierce, like the low rumble of thunder, looming in the distance.

He straightened in his chair automatically at the tone his father had taken. He felt like he was a child again, being scolded by the hearth in his father's study. He hated how drunk he was. Damnable drunken emotions.

"I will protect this family while you are gone but I must ask you something." He pleaded. He could tell his father was annoyed, thinking him a drunken troll.

"I will not let her free. She will kill us all. I don't know why you, being as smart and clever as you think you are can't grasp something that simple." Tywin sneered.

Tyrion nodded perhaps a little vigorously for his state of intoxication. After regaining his balance he said as clearly as he could manage. "I understand she can not be free, but give her the option of the wall."

Xoxoxoxo

Some said she was the most frightening thing that had ever been born South of the Wall. Some said she drank the blood of her enemies, using their skulls as a chalice. Some said that she ate their flesh even, cooking it over an open fire on her black sword. Supposedly the bull boy that followed her had done savage and beastly things in her name, for her glory. Ramsey shivered at the thought of such a fierce woman to be in existence. An equal, a potential partner and mother of his children. And the last known heiress of the Northern Kingdoms.

His father had told him of the stories the Lannisters had sent tale of. Whole units and regiments wiped out by this young girl and her pack of wolves. She never left anymore than one man alive and they were almost always driven to insanity before they were released back to tell the tale to their master. Tywin had requested Roose to the Riverlands to aide in her capture, and thus securing his grandsons crown. Roose of course could not decline. After all, it was the Lannisters that had seen them put to their new stations as Wardens of the North. So now, he was sitting on horseback, riding south with his father and some of their best men, to aide in the capture of the Stark Princess.

"A little girl is able to do all this, Lord Bolton? Truly? Last I ever seen of the younger Stark girl was she was scrawny, mean looking thing." One of his fathers close men had asked, and Ramsey had began listening intently for his father's reply.

"She would be young. Four and ten I believe. She was always small, but she had a fierceness in her the other Starks hadn't had, not since Brandon Stark had been there at least." Was his father smooth reply, no inflections to give away his position.

"But do you truly think a girl capable of this against crown soldiers? They have lost dozens on squabbles."

Roose turned to Ramsey then and the young man sat up a little straighter in his saddle. "My Lord?" He asked carefully addressing his father.

"You have a great deal of experience with beasts and hounds, that is right?"

"Yes my Lord, a great deal."

"Tell me, Ramsey, is it the bitches that are the fiercer of the species?"

Ramsey held back a laugh but let himself grin. He had spoken about this subject with his father a number of times. "Yes. In fact, for both wolf and hound, I would take a bitch over a male any day. They are easier to train and often times, more loyal, until they've whelped."

Roose nodded, satisfied with his response it seemed. "Females are always the more dangerous, we've just convinced most women that they aren't. The few who, like the Stark, do as they like, they're more dangerous than any man."

"What makes them more dangerous?"

"Look at Visenya, Nymeria, Rhaynes. What made those queens different than kings?" Silence stretched only a moment before Roose continued, "Their people loved them, and feared them, as a child does their mother. Women inspire far deeper than a man saying he is King. That is why Tywin has asked our assistance "

"We're to kill the girl then? And her rebel lot?" One of the men asked as they continued the ride South.

Roose shook his head. "Tywin wants the girl alive. I agree. She is the head of a noble house and of excellent breeding. She just needs to be tamed."

"I heard a lot of stories about her Lord Bolton. All of them more frightening than the last. She fights with two blades I know, and is faster than a snake." Another man said darkly.

Ramsey smiled a little more broadly. Two blades? That was wonderful. He wondered idly as they plodded along if she knew other weaponry as well or if she only focused on training her blades?

Roose let a small, dark smile turn up the corners of his mouth. "I understand from Lord Tywin that he has met the girl. She hid in his household at Harrenhal for sometime before escaping and worked as his cupbearer."

Ramsey's eyes widened noticeably and he quickly turned to look at his father. "She hid before him in plain sight?" It fell past his lips before he could stop it. He was astounded. Tywin Lannister was not a man to trifle with. He was clever and would do anything he needed to in order to secure his family's security. To be a threat the way the Stark girl was then and is now and have escaped is astonishing. Had anything given her away she would have been dead.

Roose looked at Ramsey briefly before continue to look ahead. "Indeed. He had a suspicion but could prove nothing. He hadn't thought of who she actually was until it was too late. She is more than fierce and clever than savage is the point. We have heard tales of how savage she is but understand, she is small and female. How is she winning against stronger more powerful opponents with only savagery?" The silence stood but a beat before he continued. "She isn't. She has a thousand men following her, maybe more. She doesn't use charm or games. These men follow her because she inspires them to. She asks of none what she wouldn't do herself. She uses strategy and tactics. Do not go into this blind, and keep ready. When she finds out were coming for her she will come to us. When she does, we have one shot."

Xoxo

"Little Lord, come now. We mustn't dally. We've a long way to go to get to your sister, yes?" Osha coaxed the young lad to wake as he slept in her arms. She was leaning against the young Lordlings great wolf Shaggydog and wrapped in his warmth as well as the boys. They had been together for nearly two years it seemed. She protected him like her own and loved him as fiercely. She was teaching him everything he needed to survive. Things his mother had never had the sense to teach him, nor his father. Southern folk didn't know how to survive when things became hard. But she did. And he would too.

She had given up on taking him to one of the other Northern houses. It has been allies who had betrayed his brother so who was to say where the boy would be safe? She had almost taken him North, back to her home, where she knew the Southern bastards wouldn't follow her to get the boy. But the threat of the Others that she had run from was too great and fresh in her mind. So instead they had started journeying south, as south as they could go had been the plan. Then she had heard a rumor from a merchant traveling on the back roads of the Wolf Princess killing those who wronged the Starks.

The stories people told of her made Osha believe that maybe there was more to the Starks than old wives tales she had grown up hearing. That and her little Lord Stark and his progress. He was fierce and strong. Stronger than someone his size should be. He grew more wild every day. Having long ago outgrown his shoes he now roamed barefoot, running beside his wolf through the woods almost silently. It was as if the two, beast and boy, could speak to each other with no words between them.

He was quick to learn with a spear too, never falling for the same trick twice. A natural warrior. Movement was to him as breathing is to all, natural and necessary.

"Come now. We have to find your sister. It's time to start heading on." She roused again.

"Just five more minutes momma." He muttered and nuzzled further into her arms and warmth. She smiled sweetly and let herself kiss his brow gently before resting her cheek gently on the top of his auburn curls. Five minutes wouldn't hurt.

A/N: So hopefully everyone is getting that building of tension with this chapter. Stories will soon be converging. Tyrion didn't get to use his plan exactly (you will still find out his actual plan) and instead this is what Tywin came up with. Let me know if you have an idea of what they are doing. :)

I am excited to introduce the Little Lordling into the mix with mamma Osha. They will become a large part if this.

My goal from this point to the future is to make Ramsey the creepiest thing imaginable.

Next up, we get to see Gendry again! And maybe a Dornish character will come to play. ;)