I do not own ASOIAF. I do not profit from this story, nor would I ever seek to do so. All credit for characters and setting to the wonder GRRM.

First ASOIAF fanfiction.

Sansa sat atop the perlino mare with a white woolen cloak trimmed with white fur. The hood was drawn up to hide her hair where the red was slowly beginning to show in it again.

She remembered another white cloak she had been given twice. Once pure and clean to cover her nakedness in front of the court, and once stained with blood, wine, sweat and foul with the stench of the unnatural green fire. They had to leave the Vale after Sweetrobin died and the Maester confessed to all the doses of sweetsleep he had been giving the boy on Petyr's instructions. Sansa Stark would have been safe, but Alayne Stone was not.

She looked down as Ser Shadrich reached up to help her down before they crossed to the tiny island at the mouth of the Trident. She accepted his help reluctantly. She moved to stand close to Ser Lothor Brune and Petyr. At least, they were dangers known. She felt herself shiver as she remembered the frightening words of one of her husband's sellswords and the man who had burned one of his eyes out. Sellswords were not people to be trusted.

The crossing was blessedly smooth, and a tall man stood at the other side, holding a lantern. His face was covered with a scarf. His gray eyes caught her blue, and she stared into them. They were familiar. They were like Arya's and her father's. She lifted a hand to her breast as he turned away from her. It—was it?

"Come Alayne, staring is impolite." Petyr took her arm and helped her gently up the long stone steps.

She followed Petyr up the steps with Lothor Brune following her and the other sellswords behind them. She stared at the back of the head of the man who held the lantern. He had a slight limp. But he was the right height and his eyes...so gray and deep. He stole a song and a kiss at the point of a dagger. Then he abandoned her.

She looked down at her hands. She had touched his face, a face that once so frightened her. She thought about him every day. And she meant nothing to him. He left her. He kissed her, then held a knife to her throat and made her sing. She wondered for a moment what happened to the bloody Kingsguard cloak the Hound left in her room. She had wrapped herself in it many times when the nights were horrid and sleeping was only a time for nightmares.

Another man stood at the top of the steps near an entrance to a sept.

"Brother, please lead the lady to the houses set aside for our female visitors. Elder Brother will stop by and see her."

The tall man with a limp nodded and waited for the others to join the first man.

Sansa stared at him, for some reason recalling the words of the king the night Lady died. 'Get her a dog, she'll be happier for it.' There were no wolves left. Were all the dogs gone as well?

Petyr said this place was called the Quiet Isle. The brothers here all had taken vows of silence. Only the Elder Brother could speak always, and the proctors were allowed to speak one day of every seven. This man wore a novice's robes. He would not speak to her. She did not feel bold enough to speak to him. If he was whom she believed him to be...

She took a seat on a wooden chair, studying her hands as she heard the man building a fire. She began to hum. She sang the Mother's song to the dog she almost had. Surely, he would not have forgotten. Would he know her? She began to sing softly.

"Gentle Mother, font of mercy..."

The man's back stiffened, and his movements stilled for a moment. Sansa's voice quavered as she continued singing.

"Save our sons from war, we prey..."

A fire was soon crackling in the hearth.

"Stay the swords and stay the arrows. /Let them know a better day."

The man turned to her. His face was entirely shadowed by the fire at his back.

"Gentle Mother, strength of women, /Help our daughters through this fray,"

He walked toward the door with her eyes on him.

"Soothe the wrath and tame the fury, /teach us all a kinder way."

He turned back to her, and the light of the fire shone on his gray eyes, making them shine oddly bright. She did not look away. She smiled, blinking rapidly.

"S-" she started.

"Beautiful."

Sansa jumped and looked behind the novice, breathing heavily. She placed a hand on her chest.

"You have a lovely voice, my dear." Elder Brother walked into the hut, carrying a flagon of wine, some hard bread, and cheese.

"Brother, you may retire for the evening."

The tall man bowed his head, stooping slightly as he left.