Sansa lay in her big, soft bed. It had once been her parents big, soft bed, of course. Her eyes fluttered weakly as she remembered them. She was older now than either of them had been and her body ached. Ached with an intensity, as if every injury she had ever endured suddenly came back upon her at once, and with a vengeance. She thought she almost imagined her parents standing in the room next to her children and husband, their faces soft and understanding. She suddenly recalled a special trip they'd gone on to the godswood. Just her and her mother and father. Her brothers and sister had all been ill with a terrible sickness, and they went there to pray for them. They both held her hands as the snow fell gently on her shining braids. She looked up at them with such love, such hope and innocence. She closed her eyes and prayed with them and was so happy. She couldn't have been five years old. The pain forgotten, she gasped at the long-forgotten memory.

Her children came closer. She could feel their warm and their silent tears. She'd whelped quite a few brats, some of them even had her ridiculous hair. She never knew such a fierce love was possible.

A warm hand took hers. "Sansa." His hand and his voice were both rough and smooth at once. She couldn't know what she would have done without him all these years. It was good to die with him at her side.

She forced her eyes open. She finally got her knight, after all the horrid nights she'd suffered. She was glad she got to see him one last time. "Jon," she tried to say his name, but her voice was failing her. She wanted to tell him it was the end and it was okay. It was the right end. A natural end, for once.

I love his eyes. All the lines in his face and his hair has turned so grey, but his eyes…They were still the same brown. Same as when he married her in the godswood in Winterfell before the weaping weirwood. He'd been so nervous as he took her hand and she'd all but smirked when he came to her. She was no blushing bride, of course, had almost been eager to know her new husband. It was strange yet thrilling to learn he was not her brother. Though they were still cousins, she counted herself lucky indeed not to be marrying little Robyn. The time apart and their reunion forced Sansa to look at Jon with new eyes. How gentle he'd been in their marriage bed, conscious always of how others had not spared her. And how the gods had seen fit to bestow him with a talent in pleasuring women! She remembered how he slowly tugged her free of her white silks and lace and almost drove her mad with tender kisses over every inch of her body. A lucky wife, indeed.

Her eyes fell closed once more. After all these years, he was still by her side. She had married the only man who could match her father in honor and he had shown himself to be true and faithful.

She wondered how death would come for her, would it hurt, would the world turn black? Jon had whispered his fears to her at night, when they became too much for him to bear. He said it was black, that there was nothing. It was probably why he gripped her hand so tightly now.

The last thing she heard was the whimpers of her youngest. Don't cry, little one. Little Cat. She hadn't had enough time with that one, hadn't taught her to be strong. She prayed the gods would not give Catelyn the lessons they had given Sansa. She remembered holding the babe after her birth. She'd thought she'd seen far too many years to be a mother, but another joy swelled in her stomach despite her age. The birth ravaged her old body, but it was one of her happiest memories, to see the babe with bright hair suckle at her breast.

Not enough time…

She didn't take another breath.

Death was not the end. Instead of darkness, the world exploded in light. The light blinded her to all else and it was cold, so cold. She shivered and knew it was winter, though it had been Summer when she died. It felt like coming home.

She took a step forward into the cold brightness. And another. With each step, the world darkened a little. She felt the age and pain leave her body along as she pushed forward. Her skin twitched and warmed, as if she were covered in a thick fur. She realized it was snow beneath her feet and all around her when she could finally see, though the light still shone off the white snow brilliantly enough to make it difficult to know where she was.

She walked, not knowing where she was going until she came to the godswood. Somehow, she'd known her way even in the luminous rays. The beautiful tree was covered in a thick blanket of snow and half-hidden by constant icy winds, but she knew the sight and loved it. She was about to go to her knees, as she had done so many years before, ready to finally meet her old gods.

Then she saw something dark moving through the snow, coming for her fast. It grew closer. "Lady!" She called out. Her voice was young and strong. Her pup was a beauty. A fine adult, matured and in her prime, grown larger than any direwolf she had ever seen. Sansa's heart ached in a way she had not known in years. She fell to her knees. "So beautiful," she whispered, tears of agony and bliss in her eyes.

And beside Lady, "the Hound!" She was so shocked that it burst aloud from her mouth.

"Aye, little bird. You'll see you've kept me in fine company this long while."

"Me? What have I done?"

"We've been waiting for you." He said simply.

Lady licked his hand as he said it, as if to confirm they had waited together all these years.

"Why not my parents, or Robb?" she questioned.

"They have others waiting for them. Or perhaps they have no one and the gods simply have their favorites."

"Are you their favorite? Am I?" She was still so confused.

"Favorite to bugger, more like." He squinted at her and she shivered. It felt like he could see her whole life, all her past, the awful and the wonderful all at once. "It's time," he continued.

His face was still scarred, though she had felt her scars all disappear on her walk. He looked just the way he had at King's Landing. She felt as if she couldn't move for a long moment.

"Are you still afraid of me, girl?"

She finally smiled. "I'm not afraid of anything, anymore."

He offered her his arm, more gentlemanly than he'd ever been in life. She took it. "You always were a stupid little bird," he muttered. Her grin grew. There was the Hound for whom she had waited.

They headed deeper into the snowy, wild woods. Lady was at their sides, sometimes bounding ahead. Wild, as they would always be, forever.