Chapter 1: Sansa

Sansa was lost in thought. A tendril of her auburn hair fell across her forehead as she stared intently at the piece of parchment in front of her. The winter winds howled outside the castle windows. The light of the days had gotten shorter. The smell of the dead still lingered in the air.

She half whispered to herself "I am home." The "Great War" was over. Yes. But Sansa knew that Cersei would do anything to get her hands on her. Cersei blamed her for Joffrey's death. Truthfully, Sansa was glad he was dead, but she had nothing to do with it.

She was a "little bird" no more. Sansa was now the "Lady of Winterfell," and surrounded by friends, and family and people who loved her, but she could not rest. To add to her discomfort. there was the Dragon Queen. Jon had brought the Dragon Queen and her host North. He had given up his crown. He had ceded the power of the North once again. Her home was filled with strangers. A mere seven days had passed since war came to their very doors and the dead killed at will within the walls of this very castle. Sansa was left to pick up the pieces, while Jon got the glory. Sansa oversaw the efforts to rebuild the castle. She was to be left alone in these efforts. Jon and his Queen intended to march towards King's Landing. Jon had pledged soldiers to the Dragon Queen's cause to help her take back the Iron Throne as the last Targaryen heir.

Sansa held a raven scroll from Lord Arryn of the Vale, her cousin, tightly in her hands. She exhaled deeply before taking a sip of the goblet of wine near her bed. She could hear the scurrying footsteps of her housemaid approaching the door. Or maybe it was someone else.

Her house was filled with strangers, and former enemies. The Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister was in Winterfell. Him and Brienne had forged an understanding. He fought along side the soldiers of the North and the Wildlings in the Battle at Winterfell. There seemed to be an odd affection between the Lady Brienne and the Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister. Brienne had been good to her-had protected her. Brienne deserved that happiness, she thought, however much she distrusted the Lannisters.

Sansa looked out of the window and towards the hills outside the castle, blanketed in newly fallen snow. Only a few days prior the hills were covered with the still smoking funeral pyres of those who had fallen in battle. She looked at the battlements that had come tumbling down around them, and the men outside her window with wheelbarrows full of fallen stones. She was left to pick up the pieces, while Jon went South with his foreign queen.

Sansa had spent most of the battle in the crypts. The crypts were supposed to be "the safest place to be." Sansa could hear the echo of these words over and over during the battle preparations. The crypts had not been half so safe as expected. Many innocent women and children lost their lives in the crypts. The "Night King" raised the bodies of her long dead Stark ancestors, and Sansa was not a fighter. She remembered gripping the cool handle of the dragonglass blade that Arya had given her in her hands. She was prepared to die.

Her. and her former husband, Tyrion Lannister spent a considerable amount of time hiding in the crypts from the dead. There was a moment of warmth between them that made her feel a flutter in her stomach. She thought back to one moment where they locked eyes. She remembered the comfort she felt as he grasped her hand.

When they were in King's Landing, she had been forced to marry "the imp." She thought he was a monster. As she looked back now, he was the only man who had been kind to her, other than the Hound. She was so young, and completely alone. Joffrey was a monster. He had betrayed her. The Lannisters had destroyed her family. She would never trust a Lannister. She could never trust a Lannister, no matter how kind he may have been to her.