Disclaimer: George R.R. Martin owns them.

Tyrion watched her as she stood in the snow, still as stone and just as cold.

"Do you find me changed, my lord?"

She did not turn, but Tyrion walked closer to view her profile. Here in the godswood, he thought she looked the picture of a northern queen. The way she held herself and raised her chin, he saw a flash of Lady Catelyn . And when she finally turned to him he felt Lord Eddard in her gaze.

War and loss had hardened all of them.

"I believe you are the most changed of us all, Sansa Stark," he replied. "Your eyes no longer hold the innocence I remember."

The wind swept her red locks across her face, but despite the chill she did not shiver. Instead she moved to kneel before him, resting one hand on his shoulder.

"Your eyes remain the same. I still see kindness there."

Tyrion started as a drop of water landed on his head. Another landed on Sansa's cheek, almost a tear. They looked up to the red branches of the weirwood to see more drops falling around them like rain.

When their eyes met again they both felt the warmth.

The snow was melting.