"Seven hells," he panted as he fell back against the bolster. He wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Mm, that was lovely, Sandor," she murmured, smiling contentedly as she stretched.

"Come here, girl," he rasped, and pulled her close to him under the furs. "I don't leave 'til dawn and I miss you already," he growled hungrily.

Sansa laughed softly. "Imagine how your poor squire will feel once Jory leaves you to turn off for Poole. The poor lad will be bereft," she teased.

"I'll have to find him twice as much work," Sandor noted. "Might be you'll want some men to inspect the masonry in the guest house, little bird; it's likely crumbling after their fortnight of fucking-"

"Sandor!"

"The Blackfish is like to be feeling hard-up too, without his sweet widow for company. We'll be gone over a turn, might be two, riding and camping and inspecting a barely-there keep and walls with none but each other and our empty bedrolls," he mourned.

"Yours had best stay empty, my love," she warned him, "I've heard the talk of wenches and camp followers-"

"None will compare to my little bird…little bird," he assured her.

She smiled at him as she rested her chin on his chest, idly tracing her fingertips through the dark matt of hair. She tilted her head curiously.

"What is it, girl?"

"Sandor, do you realize that by the time we visit Catya in the Spring she may have children?"

"If they don't it won't be because they're not trying," he said sourly. "All those looks, like a pair of deer in rutting season-"

"Oh hush," she slapped his chest now. "They're married; and I want my daughter to be happy…our daughter" she amended when he stared fiercely.

"Seven hells, so do I," he blustered, "only I didn't need to see it!"

"Gods, Sandor: what are you talking about?"

"I found them in the bloody godswood, little bird: they were brushing off their cloaks and he was picking dried leaves from her hair!"

Sansa stared a moment longer before tucking her face under his arm and giggling helplessly.

"Stop that," he ordered gruffly. "It's not funny."

"It is," she sputtered laughingly, "it is very funny and very familiar. Have you forgotten, Sandor?"

He took her chin in his fingers and slowly his face softened, and he traced his fingers down her neck.

"No, little bird," he rasped low, "I haven't forgotten. But I'm older now; soon to be a grandfather if you have the right of it," he said to her. "Might be I can't rut in the woods like a young buck anymore-"

Sansa quickly put her hand on his face and caressed him gently.

"Oh, no: don't say that. You make me very happy, Sandor; nothing has changed," she reassured him.

"…might be you'd like another forest beast to tend you, little bird," he continued as he shifted and rolled her onto her back. "Which animal might that be?" he seemed to ponder as he kissed her neck and shoulders.

"Rabbits are known for being quite…active-"

"Bigger," he rasped fiercely.

"Ah, of course: how silly of me to think small and timid when thinking of your love, Sandor," she murmured as he kept kissing her body. Then she stopped when she realized he was humming a tune.

"What are you doing?" she asked curiously.

He hummed some more and then sang in a soft rasp:

She kicked and wailed,

The maid so fair,

But he licked the honey,

From her hair!

Sandor settled himself under the furs and she could feel his warm breath tickling her. Then she felt his warmer tongue.

"Oh, my love," she gasped as she arched her back and sank her fingers in his hair. He raised his head for an instant.

"Sing for me, little bird."

She giggled and sang breathily and softly:

Her hair! Her hair!

He licked the honey,

From her hair!

Then she sighed and squealed,

And kicked the air,

She sang: My bear so fair…

….

Early the next morning, Sansa stood on the walls of Winterfell. She hugged her heavy cloak tightly around her against the strong wind as she watched Sandor ride out with Ned and her great-uncle Blackfish with a retinue of guards and handlers and wagons of provision for the trip to Greywind Keep.

Though they would return within a turn or two, Sansa knew that the Blackfish' promise to lead the garrison meant that he and Ned would be leaving again to stay the winter. Until then, Sandor would not tell Ned that he was to be lord-in-residence in his stead. Sansa's heart filled when she imagined Ned's pride at having his father's trust, just as she had seen Robb stand taller and his chest fill with gratitude when his father had given him charge of training the young boys in his absence.

She rested a gloved hand against a merlon as she leaned forward and sighed. It had been some years since Sandor had left Winterfell for any length of time and she tried not to brood on the thought of long days and nights without him next to her. Finally he reached the crest of the hill she knew so well and stood and turned to wave his farewell to her. She waved the handkerchief she had taken from him and bit her lip to keep her quavering breath from turning to a sob.

"Safe journey, my love," she whispered. "Gods protect them all," she added solemnly as they all rode down the hill and disappeared from view.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw the maester waiting for her.

"Ravens, my lady," he intoned. "Both came early this morning and both messages are for you: from King's Landing and Casterly Rock, my lady."

Dark wings, dark words, she thought. Let us hope not.

"Thank you; I shall read them in the godswood," she smiled pleasantly.

My dear Lady Clegane, I had the great pleasure of hosting your daughter with the Tyrells when they stopped on their return journey to the Reach. She is a truly lovely girl and a very happy bride and I have no doubt that you and her father are very proud. She was most gracious in returning my gift, which she deemed far too generous of me but I could see that no diamonds or pearls could ever take the place of her father's gift of a necklace of dog and direwolf. It suits her, my lady, for I can see that she has your grace and his strength. Our young Loras is as lucky a man as his goodfather. I hope that you do not object that I instead gifted her with a more modest emerald brooch which will complement her new Tyrell colours. It once belonged to my mother, the Lady Joanna, (but no other woman in my family I assure you) and she did me the great honor of wearing in at my table that night. On a less happy note, I had my maesters examine Ser Loras's injury and they are not as hopeful that he will regain all of his sight, but I do not doubt that he and his new bride are strong enough to bravely bear this disappointment. A man can accomplish anything it would seem, with a strong and beautiful woman to love him. My best to your family, Sansa, and do tell your lord that he is very lucky to have respectively won and raised the loveliest women in Westeros. Yours faithfully, Tyrion Lannister, Casterly Rock.

Sansa smiled wryly as she folded the parchment.

"He may still be likely to piss on your letter in the privy, Lord Tyrion," she remarked to herself while shaking her head. Still, she was pleased and proud that Catya had been gracious with him and grateful that his maesters had tended Loras. Like Tyrion, she did not doubt that Loras and Catya would recover and live happily regardless, and she thought that mayhaps a little adversity would make them stronger. Though please gods, only a little adversity, she prayed.

Sansa sat for a moment enjoying the stillness of the godswood and remembering her father before opening the next parchment.

Dear Sansa, you will be very satisfied to know that I am so hugely fat with this child that I am confined to the royal apartments with none but ladies plying their needlework and gossiping like shrill crows for company. You were far more suited to being queen that I am, Sansa, but it is too late to change things now, only I wish Dany had kept her bloody iron throne and left Aegon and I to roam the Free Cities and visit the Summer Islands as we had planned. Instead I am sitting here preparing to push out another prince or princess whilst surrounded by fools. I wish you and Clegane didn't hate the capitol so much, as least I could have you here to laugh at me and him to fight with. How is the old dog? Did he hate giving away his girl? Did he beat Loras into the dirt before granting him his only daughter? I admit I would have loved to have seen that: the man can fight. Aegon of course was indignant to have his offer rejected but once he calmed down he appreciated Ned's words about unhappy marriages making for poor alliances and sowing unrest in the kingdoms. Of course Ned will be welcome in the spring if he wishes to meet Lord Arstan's granddaughters and make suit to an appropriate girl…which I will have already picked out for him. It takes a northern girl to know who will be suitable for the north. Anyways, given his grace wants Greywind rebuilt, there is some good news for Clegane he will likely curse to seven hells to hear: Lord Edric Dayne remembers Beric Dondarrion's pledge to repay his tourney gold at war's end. Since he swears it went to feed commons in the Riverlands, the crown may be able to provide some restitution though he should not count on the entire sum, especially since he tossed away the promise parchment. And he still owes ten to the ferrymen on the Trident. Never mind, just tell him. I miss you, Sansa, and Rickon and Winterfell. I'm dreaming of spring and of seeing you all again and mayhaps you can remind me of how in seven hells I am the one stuck here. Her Grace, Arya of house Targaryen

Sansa laughed, knowing that her sister loved her husband and children as she did, but somehow she had ended up where she had never expected. Sansa understood: sometimes when she was walking through the yard, or sitting the high seat or watching her children in the godswood, or when she lay awake gazing at Sandor and trying not to reach out to touch him, and failing to restrain herself more often than not; she marveled that her life had brought her back where she had once thought she never wanted to be, with a man she had believed lost to her forever because she had realized too late that he was what she had wanted all along.

She turned to look at the heart tree again and smiled wistfully. The gods did not grant everything you wanted, because you did not always want the right things; but she had been given what she had needed and the hard-earned wisdom to realize and appreciate it, and that, Sansa knew, was everything.

FINIS