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Chapter Text

"Are you nervous?"

"A bit."

Indigo eyes sparkled when he grinned at her, even as he sunk down on the bed, elbows bracing on his knees, "It's just me, Sans."

"I know that."

He bent down and started untying his boots, "So, how long did that fashion statement take to make?"

"What?"

"Your dress."

"I got that," Sansa squared shoulders with him, her arms crossing, "Are we really talking about clothing right now?"

"You always like to talk about clothing," Aegon argued, "Needlework and work relief programs, and where the secret compartments for Uncle Obie's emergency poison is."

She rolled her eyes.

"Don't get sassy with me, Sans," He snickered, "You're the only person who can always spot four out of five consistently."

When he came over and told her to spin around, the Winter Rose did so while pulling her hair over her shoulders and out of the way. There was no reason to dally, or so Sansa kept telling herself. She couldn't help but verbalize, "Don't rip it."

His handsome face, tan as the sands of Dorne, appeared at her shoulder as his brows pulled together and his nose scrunched up, "Why would I rip your dress? That's just disrespectful."

Sansa couldn't help a nervous laugh at how genuinely offended he sounded, "About seventy hours."

"What?" He demanded, shocked, even as he undid the silver direwolf clips that had kept her new wolf and dragon cloak about her shoulders, before throwing it over his arm to get at the dress.

"It took seventy hours, roughly. Of me, Mother, Ellaria, Tyene, and Sarella working on it," She disclosed, "Twelve hours a day, usually more, for all five days we worked on it."

"Took me less time to train a dragon," Aegon muttered as his fingers undid the lacing of the corset expertly.

It would be a concern, if she hadn't seen the Sand Snakes walk in to have him undo them, remember she was there, and then apologize. They'd given the duty to Aegon, when he was in the older half of that generation's suite, rather than calling a maid, and Robb had often taken the role for her. She giggled as the dress loosened enough to begin falling down her, leaving only her ivory silk shift that was decorated in lace wolves, trouts, and pearls, "Thank you for this.

"Anything for you, love," Aegon assured her, before cradling her cheek to give Sansa a quick kiss, then he was moving off once more. He put her cloak across the chase in the room, before pulling his own off, "Heavy son of a bitch, indeed."

"Would you rather be frozen to death at your own wedding?"

"Gods no," He chucked and untied his pants and tunic once he was down to them, "How is this summer?"

"What are you doing?!" Sansa finally broke and demanded an answer when he moved off to the wine carafe that had two glasses next to it.

Holding up both goblets, Aegon had the audacity to look confused, "Pouring us wine?"

"I don't think this is how this night is supposed to go."

The Dornish Prince chuckled, before filling both goblets and bringing them over to the bed, "Well, we're stuck together all night and the main event is really only going to take half an hour. More than enough time to let you have a drink."

He hopped onto the bed holding both cups, shirt untied and pants undone, and very tempting Sansa had to admit. She took off her dress and jewelry, painstakingly taking apart her hair piece by piece while he watched, "I thought most men raced to their marriage bed."

"And have their wives resent them all the more for it," Aegon scoffed, "It's sex. If you're going to do it, do it right… How long did your hair take?"

"You don't want to know."

"I sent Jon to check on you a couple times. He just came back looking more and more nervous."

"Was my mother leaving with the Gold Company at first light?"

"Yep, two departures going in opposite directions. As soon as she is back in the Eyrie, your uncle is going to ride hard to meet us back in the Riverlands."

"Us?"

"We didn't want to bother you before the wedding."

Sansa quickly slipped into the bed, once free of everything but her shift and small clothes, "What's happening?"

"We have a month here in Winterfell, then we'll take your father and ten thousand Northerners to march south to reclaim the throne," He explained, "We'll stop at Riverrun, to help the Gold Company and Theon retake Pyke."

That made sense. Sansa knew that Tywin had already sent Kevin a letter explaining who he wanted to put on the throne. The West and Riverlands were already blockading the Iron Islands. By the time they got there resistance should be minimal. It was a harsh way to go, but effective in its timeliness.

"At Riverrun, Yohn Royce and Domeric will join us with twenty thousand men from the Knights of the Vale," He disclosed, "And your grandfather has pledged another twenty thousand."

The North was strong, untouched by the War of the Five Kings. Sansa was surprised by them cutting the forces in half compared to the rest of her family. He saw the question in her eyes, "He's the newest to his role and going to be dealing with the possibility of settling the Wildlings in the North for an extended time. I don't feel right taking so much of his available forces."

Aegon grinned at her, "Besides, I got you and the Quiet Wolf out of this arrangement. I still think I came out with the better end of the deal."

Sansa learned down and kissed him.

"Uncle Obie is marching up with twenty thousand and doesn't expect Willas to contest," He divulged, "Olenna knows this is coming and even the Reach can't fight seventy thousand men and two dragons. Once Theon is secure in Pyke, we'll use the Gold Company to take Blackwater bay, and retake the Iron Throne."

"The Westerlands?"

"Papa Lion has pledged twenty thousand men," Aegon divulged, "He's returning as Warden of the West, but I was thinking…"

He trailed off and Sansa knew instantly what he wanted, "You want him as your Hand."

"According to Kevan Lannister, Tommen wants to squire under his father," He explained, "That makes Myrcella the heir to Casterly Rock and the next Lady Lannister."

"If he brings her to King's Landing, then she can study under me," Sansa nodded, "We'll have to start looking for a betrothal for her."

"Kevan will run the West, until Myrcella returns to take her rightful place."

Myrcella would be ten by now; two years after her escape from this very castle. It would be about six years, five by the time they actually retook the throne, before she would be of marriage age. She'd flower in that time and they would need to further ally her to them.

"Father could go to the Eyrie and Mother."

"He fostered under Jon Arryn and I think they might prefer to have him there too."

Sansa appraised her husband as he sipped casually at his drink, "Are you going to have sex with me?"

"As soon as you're ready," He assured. When she looked so adorable and confused, Aegon chuckled, "Sansa, you are the most determined and ambitious person I know. Once you make up your mind to have my children, you'll let me know."

"I made that decision when I married you!" She laughed.

He finished his drink and shrugged, "Well, you'll make that decision a reality eventually… You don't have the patience to put it off."

"Excuse you, Ser!" Her empty goblet clattered to the floor as she went to smack his arm, which quickly turned into a tussle. Not that he was actually trying to do anything harmful to her. Sansa wound up straddling him, her shift riding up to her thighs, and his warm hands locking around the back of each.

She couldn't help but stare at him for a moment, hands braced on his broad shoulders, before the temptation was too much and she lent down to kiss him. By the time she was pulling away, Sansa had to know, "Do you wish we'd had sex yesterday?"

Aegon hummed, a hand coming to stroke his wife's cheek with two fingers, "I thought about it."

"Why didn't you…" The wolf maiden trailed off for a moment, not wanting to imply that he would have forced her in anyway, and finally had to settle awkwardly on, "Insist?"

He chuckled, "Because despite our jests, darling, you are the good one."

Sansa flushed.

His grin turned positively boyish, "And if we had, you would have felt guilty, which was the opposite of my ulterior motives."

"Motives?"

"I thought perhaps you would enjoy having more control over the decision," The Targaryen prince shrugged under her, "That you would enjoy yourself more, if the pressure was somehow mitigated."

"The bedding would have also been less frightening."

"Barbaric arse practice," He muttered testily, "Thank the Father for yours!"

She giggled, but had to agree. The direwolves and Ned Stark had saved them on that front. Bless the Quiet Wolf's heart.

"Make love to me?"

"As you wish, darling."

He kissed her again and moved to sit up, pulling her decorated shift off her. The cold air hit her nipples and instantly they both hardened and sharpened. His hand moved up to cup one of them, a thumb flicking over the nub, and Sansa gasped a little even as she clutched his shoulders tighter.

While on holiday with his uncle in Braavos he'd been warned multiple times that the first time for women was always a bit uncomfortable and there was simply no avoiding it. As such, he wanted to give Sansa all the pleasure he could before they did anything penatritive. Using his hold on her thighs Aegon encouraged her to go up on her knees before sliding down the bed, so that he was laying between her legs.

Everyone truly had made sure she was dressed perfectly in every fashion. Her small clothes were little more than a scrap for all the cloth that was actually on it, but it was ivory silk like the snow that had fallen in her hair when they wed for the second time, and her red bundle of curls danced around the edges. On her hips where the edges rested, the garment was brought together by two silver trout kissing on each side, one with rubies for eyes and the other with sapphires. In the center of the oval of fish was a silver wolf with diamonds for eyes.

Even as he moved the cloth to the side, he had to comment, "Your side of the family is never going to let me forget who I married."

Sansa huffed, "What was your first clue?"

"I thought Jon was going to let the wolves actually eat my arse earlier," He admitted, bringing his hand up so that his thumb could circle her small numb for a moment, before he got to the good part, "Looked like he might even participate!"

Though her first reaction was to giggle, Sansa gasped when he first started to rub between her legs. Her hands braced on the headboard as the sensation grew. While she'd never want to compare Aegon and Ramsay, it was the only other experience that she had to go on. Although this had certainly never been an activity the Bolton bastard participated in.

Especially when his hand disappeared and suddenly his mouth was on her. Surprised, Sansa started to rise up, but his hand on her leg stopped her, and his mouth deserted the warmth between her legs for a moment, "Go the other way, Sans. Grind downward."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't, love," He chuckled, before returning to his previous activity, "I'll let you know if I need you to go up."

The warm sensation started to build and strengthen once more, until Sansa was watching snowflakes dance across her vision as if they were outside. His tongue darted repeatedly across the nub hidden by her scarlet curls, as breathing became beyond her, until all the air that remained in her lungs rushed out in a shout, "Aegon!"

He had the audacity to chuckle as he pulled away, "There we go."

Sansa barely caught the comment because her heart was pounding somewhere between her ears. When it did finally register, however, the Red Wolf of Winterfell shimmied back down him with an eye roll, "Smug is not an attractive look on you, husband."

The spark that lit in his indigo eyes at the title was more than attractive, especially as he soared up to give her an absolutely filthy kiss, though she had to admit to enjoying the salty taste that had taken over his lips and tongue. When he pulled back, both hands cupping her breasts and thumbs flicking over her nipples, the smirk on his face was entirely too pleased with himself, "Forgive me, wife."

She hummed and sat back on her arse further down the bed, so that he could pull her small clothes completely off her long legs. In just a moment he was pulling her back up to straddle him once more and his tongue was dancing inside her mouth. Sansa pulled at the hem of his shirt until her dragon pulled back just enough that she could get it off when he raised his arms.

All that training had certainly paid off for her. His stomach looked a bit like a washboard in the way that it rippled and his sun was still sand kissed from their stay in Dorne. Her mother had been right; their children were going to be gorgeous.

After a few minutes he laid back down and Sansa refused to panic when he kicked off his pants beneath her. There was no way to see his manhood from their current position and she didn't know if doing so would have made her feel better or worse. Still, he guided her into position, and the chant that she was a wolf played in her head over and over again in Arya's voice.

As his cock probed at the very entrance of Sansa's cunt, Aegon reached forward to make sure she was still plenty wet, and she certainly was, "Alright, love, sink down slowly. There is no rush."

She did as he bid and, as her heat and tightness gripped him, and her hands tightened where his shoulders started transforming into his neck, Aegon couldn't stop a groan, "You are better than any fantasy."

It didn't hurt the way that it had in her previous life, not with the slickness that she'd never been afforded before, and soon Sansa was fully engulfed on him, "You've fantasized about having sex with me?"

He couldn't help the snort that escaped him, "From the moment I first saw you in the Red Keep's godswood."

The confession pulled a giggle from her. After a few moments, even as he locked both their hands together, Sansa craved something more, "Can I move?"

"In any way that pleases you, darling."

It was experimental at first, as the lack of pain surprised her, though there were some stretching aches. Moving in different directions, up and down, as well as a bit forward and back, it wasn't difficult to figure out what motions felt better than others. Especially when every small movement pulled a groan from her husband and had his hands tightening around hers.

Soon Sansa had built up a rhythm to her movements and Aegon began thrusting upward to match her, "Mother have mercy! Sansa, faster, love!"

She sped up at his command and his hand came back to the little nub that he'd been playing with earlier. Soon the same heat began to build once more, only it was even more encompassing than it had been previously. It took no time at all before she was crying out for him once more, "Aegon!"

Almost as soon as she did, a new sort of heat erupted inside of her, warm and sticky. She was surprised when he flipped them suddenly, but gladly locked her hands around his neck to kiss him again, running a hand through his silver blonde locks. For once the warm and sticky sensation between her thighs couldn't have been more welcome.

They stayed locked at the mouth for a while longer before Aegon knew they needed to clean up and he slowly started to pull away. Getting to look at Sansa laid out on the pillows he had to admit to being the luckiest man in the Seven Kingdoms and leaned back down to kiss her once more. Then, he wandered over to the wash basin and the pieces of cloth there.

It was still warm, so he assumed it was put in the room all but still boiling, just before they arrived. He couldn't wait to explore the hot springs in Winterfell that he'd managed to read about over the years, "Would you like another gla…"

By the time he turned around with a wet rag, Sansa had managed to spin around in the bed. Her long legs were scaled up the wall and all the pillows were cleared away, except for one that appeared older, which she'd put under her perfectly shaped arse. He felt the tables had suddenly turned between them.

"What are you doing?!"

"Trying to get with your child."

He rolled his eyes, "My uncle says a man could get a woman with child in rushing rapids, if he's virile enough to deserve them."

"Well, my mother says that Tully fertility is a myth," Sansa informed him, "We're just more devoted to the cause."

They shared a look as he picked up the two goblets from their scattered places beside the bed to refill them, before both busted out laughing. Aegon shrugged and tossed her the warm and wet cloth, "Fine, but at least clean around where you urinate. Don't want the area to catch fire."

She did as he said, even as she gave him a funny look, "To what?"

"Catch fire," He shrugged, "Aunt Ellaria says it happens to women, especially if they have too much sex and don't clean the area."

"Huh," Sansa nodded, knowing the sandseer wouldn't lead her astray, "I'll have to remember that."

They drank several glasses of wine and had sex once more, before cleaning up and going to sleep. It had been a long day and both knew that they would be expected to make an appearance early the next. Everyone would want to start planning their upcoming siege of the Iron Throne in earnest.

Sansa had to admit that she was touched. Everyone had worked so hard to give her the perfect wedding day, from Dorne to the North, and it truly had been just that. It was a plus that no one wound up poisoned, butchered, or otherwise disposed.

One wouldn't think that would be the goal of any bride, but she was about to reign in Westeros.

When they woke up the sky was just beginning to lighten though the sun wasn't visible yet and Sansa got her first look at her husband fully erect. She couldn't believe he'd even fit inside of her. That made Aegon laugh, though he discouraged her from stroking his ego too much, proclaiming that they would never make it into public view otherwise.

They bedded once, before he bathed first, since she insisted on getting with his child quickly. He told her there wasn't a race on, but Sansa shushed him. The older maid who came in to service them heard the exchange and couldn't hold back a laugh, even as she recalled Catelyn Stark making sure she had Robb similarly.

By the time Sansa got into the wash tub herself, her husband was out and getting dressed. She quickly washed both her body and hair, but already knew that she'd end up wearing her winter rose dress and choker, along with her wolf cloak, so the greenseer skipped the internal dilemma that seemed to be plaguing her husband. Once she'd gotten out and dried off, the woman chuckled, "Struggling, husband?"

"I… Had new armor made in Dorne. Didn't want it to be too much though."

Small clothes in place, Sansa wandered over to look into the chest with him. It was truly an impressively done set. It alternated between a gold and solid black, like Jaime’s she noted.. The breastplate, pauldrons, and vambraces were all emblazoned with different images.

The breastplate was black and housed her husband's personal sigil; a gold spear and white sword crossing before a red sun, the last of which sprouted wings that he’d decided recently needed to be gold. Jon had insisted on sticking with red and they’d all been shocked when Ballard’s scales started to redden around his edges by week’s end. On each of the black pauldrons was a vivid red three headed dragon, though these bore no rubies. And on the inside of each black vambrace was a different symbol.

One was a red three headed dragon facing outward; at the base of each head's neck was a gold symbol. In the center was a gold sun with the smiling face of the laughing tree in the center, one was a golden lion, and one was a harp. Sansa reached out to touch it curiously.

"My father's personal sigil," Aegon explained, "His mother taught him to play, he fostered with the Great Lion, and a joint symbol for his wives."

"It's gorgeous," Sansa whispered, even as her attention moved to the other forearm guard.

It also had a golden sun that had a white tear drop descending from it and she was instantly reminded of his mother's circlet. The drop almost landed on the tip of a golden spear with a swirling red viper twisting around it. She arched an eyebrow at him and he smiled sadly, as his hand joined hers to brush over it.

"Mother and Uncle Oberyn were twins," He explained after a moment, "It was said that she gave up the blood in her sun, so that his venom would be so powerful no other serpent could touch him, but still none would ever bite her."

Sansa hadn't known that about the younger Martell siblings.

"This was their sigil," Aegon whispered, "But he hasn't worn it since she died."

She kissed him and insisted, "I think you have to wear it."

Throwing on her clothes, Sansa quickly strapped him into the armor, on top of comfortable black underclothes. She put one braid down the side of his face, made out of his long bangs, before pulling all of his hair back in a low tie at the base of his neck. He wouldn't wear the wolf cloak on top of his armor until they took the Iron Throne, but she couldn't wait for Oberyn to see him like this.

A maid finally came in and braided Sansa's hair into a simple crown before she put on her own wolf cloak and was ready to face the day. She was relieved that the weirwood leaves, red wolf fur, scarlet three headed dragon matched in color. Smiling the greenseer asked her dragon, "Are you ready to win the game of thrones?"

"With you, love? Always."

Everyone's eyes were on them instantly when they opened the door to the newly wed suite. All before their eyes instantly cast downward. Sansa was surprised, but also relieved when Jon was waiting for them at the end of the hall.

She was distracted by Lady rising from her guard of the door and had to bend to kiss the nose of her fierce protector.

Their brother was in his grey armor, emblazoned with a white wolf with red eyes, and he'd also had it altered in Dorne. The scarlet dragon wings now stood out proudly on either side of Ghost's head. He raised his chin to Sansa, "He's waiting for you in the Godswood."

"Of course," She smiled and kissed both of their cheeks, before they promptly took off for the training yard to rough house prior to the castle fully waking and being able to break their fast.

Snow covering the trail to the heart tree and the wind in her face made Sansa the happiest girl in the world. Kneeling next to Ned Stark after the wedding she never thought to have, the chances of her heart exploding from joy grew greatly. They prayed silently for some time before her father finally spoke.

"Any need to have him disposed of?"

Sansa grinned at his protective nature, flushing though she was, "I'd much prefer you didn't."

He appraised her, the very corner of his mouth quirking up, though something in his eyes was almost disappointed, "Very well."

They didn't stay much longer before he escorted her to the hall on his arm and all the seats were newly divided by gender lines. Sansa happily got to know Ysilla in the much quieter affair that was the first meal of the day, while Arya sat on her other side spinning her tale of Mormont Island. Down the table her father, Robb, Aegon, and Jon all had their heads bent together as they got on the same page concerning the meetings later with the Northern lords.

Sansa checked in on Ysilla's pregnancy and was thrilled to hear that Winterfell currently had two maesters in residency, after Robb dismissed Sam Tarly from Castle Black along with Jaime. From what she gathered of the tale the Golden Lion had sort of adopted the fish out of water and they wound up discovering valyrian steel and dragonglass worked on the undead, even if everyone, including Robb, would be skeptical until the hunting party got back. Her good sister was insistent that their party take one of the healers south and the Red Wolf knew instantly who she was hoping for.

Ysilla brought her to the place where her portrait with the Quiet Wolf, in the same dress she was currently wearing, had been placed in the entryway. While she knew that a very different path was hers to walk in this life, for both herself and the North, Sansa was touched that a very small part of her would always be here. Her good sister excused herself from the private moment to go and check on stores, when the younger woman touched the frame reverently.

After a while she managed to pull herself away and went to reminisce. There were no guarantees that she would get to come back again after all. Her husband would take the Iron Throne and she would be managing the Red Keep, King's Landing, and the Crownlands.

The glass gardens made her smile, as did running around the Godswood with Lady, and finally she made her way up to the lofts overlooking the training yard. It seemed like only yesterday that she was sneaking her siblings treats before the royal family arrived. Now, there stood Robb in the place that had once been their father's to loom.

He hadn't been thrust into war and kingship so young. He hadn't abandoned the North to a traitorous Theon. With time and distance from the life she'd lived before, Sansa could say that she now saw in him her knight in shining armor because of the man he'd become in her absence.

She smiled as she glided up next to him, "Warden."

His eyes darted to her, though he didn't completely turn his head, before those sights once more went back to the dragons battling below, "Your Grace."

Tully blue eyes met seriously before neither could hold it in and both siblings busted out laughing. Robb grabbed up his sister and lifted her off the ground, unable to express how much he'd missed her. He'd never wanted Sansa back so much as when he'd gotten married and faced his mother leaving shortly after, suddenly realizing how little he knew about women.

Letters weren't enough.

Sansa laid in the grey wolf fur of his cloak for a moment before he put her down gently.

"What happened to us?" Robb demanded, "One minute we're running around playing with wolves…"

"And the next…" Sansa grinned at him trailing off.

"Fucking Robert Baratheon," He muttered petulantly.

"Not what we expected."

"Too right."

Robb leaned over on the railing by his elbows and Sansa perched on it next to him, "I've missed you."

They looked at each other and beamed with the unexpected chorus.

"Do I need to send Grey Wind to handle that?"

Sansa smiled as the Sword of the Morning and White Wolf clashed viciously below them, "As I told father, I'd much prefer you didn't."

"Very well."

She couldn't hold back a laugh at how alike the two were and prompted, "Not going to challenge him over my honor."

Robb winced when Jon was put on his arse and they could hear him groan all the way up on their platform and she noted that her oldest brother had gotten his first full beard in, scarlet as it was, the occurrence was still a right of passage for Northmen, "I love you. I'm not suicidal."

The Red Wolf giggled, her husband was very impressive.

"Alright," A new voice called from the entrance to the yard, "It's time to stop beating up your baby brother."

Aegon beamed where Jaime and Tywin Lannister were entering the field of battle. The Golden Lion was in his black and gold Lannister armor, while Tywin saw Sansa and quickly made for them. The Kingslayer raised his chin to the blonde Targaryen, "What say you take on a real challenger?"

This was the formidable warrior born of the Great Lion. Free of Cersei, whether he realized it or not, Brightroar strapped to his side, and his swordhand as loyal as ever. Sansa was surprised by it, though perhaps she shouldn't have been, but his trials had been good for him in the long run. He could have been the next Warden of the West, though she knew that Tywin had a different plan for his future now.

Her husband looked like he might burst, win or lose. Sansa knew Jaime wouldn't hurt him, so she chose to be excited with the young heir to the throne. He bounced around the yard getting himself ready as Jaime did the same, both running their mouths at one another. It only added fuel to the fire as word spread about the upcoming challenge.

The Quiet Wolf must have been close by because he emerged with Tywin onto their perch, along with Ysilla. Father and son paired off together on one end, while Sansa's good sister locked arms with her on Robb's other side. The Great Lion was growly as soon as he took up residency on the Winter Rose's right.

The disposition certainly wasn't new, especially given the weddings and dragon travel from the day before. All the more, Sansa wasn't alerted to an issue until Tywin snarled, "He won't speak to me!"

"What? Who?"

"Jaime!"

When he nodded toward his first born son, the greenseer gave the younger lion a second look. Nothing looked out of sorts with him. He was playing with the Targaryen princes just as he had in the Tower of the Hand. The grin of sheer joy in his face wasn't something that could be faked.

But, the Lannisters had been standing together at the wedding, "Last night…"

"I tried!" Tywin insisted, "On the walk through the Godswood, on the way back, and at the feast. Not one word!"

The battle started below them. Brightroar clashing with Dawn as sparks flew around the opponents' heads. Sansa observed as the audience seemed split between the old guard and the new. Her father's generation versus Robb's. It was certainly a powerful matchup.

"I hate every moment of this."

Ned snorted from his place at the opposite end of the lineup, "That's because your mother didn't like watching the boys train with live steel."

"I'll just presume you're right."

"He's ten and nine years old, Jaime! Don't take that!" Her father ordered first, as Aegon just started to throw himself at the older knight a bit.

She just rolled her eyes and met glances with Ysilla's in agreement to endure the following madness.

"We're meeting my son and twenty-thousand men he's leading in from the Vale," Sansa had to lean forward to see Roose Bolton, sitting on a lower level railing, cleaning his sword and his legs crossed at the ankles, "Lose, Lannister, and our blades are sharp."

Jaime's hair flipped. He had a longer style than he'd ever had around her before, but it never truly inhibited his field of vision, "I have spent months with Starks, and Boltons, and the stray Umber, on my case, just so your little arse can seize the Iron Throne."

Aegon snorted, "Did the Golden Lion get chilly?"

Sansa rolled her eyes when Jaime crossed his arms and looked straight up at her in the middle of the fight. She couldn't help but agree with him, "Like you were some dream to sleep with shivering."

Her husband mirrored the Westlander, looking so much like him it was adorable, much to Sansa's surprise, "We're in the middle of the barren tundra and you still complained I was like a bonfire!"

"No worries, then," Her father huffed, his low timber voice still carried around the gathered courtyard, all the same men from her wedding once again present, "The grandchildren are forthcoming."

Everyone laughed and the combatants started circling one another again, swords in hand. Sansa recognized the signs of two opponents feeling one another out. This was the first time they'd ever had the chance with more than training swords to fence around the Tower of the Hand. Her husband seemed a bit in awe.

That gaze was brutally murdered.

"Just know if you win, big brother, I'll worship you until the Stranger takes me."

Every eye in the yard flew to Jon, who had never spoken out in the yard of Winterfell before, even when their father had encouraged him to. Robb absolutely beamed and shouted out to encourage the White Wolf, "Take him, Aegon! He's lost his shine the last few years!"

Despite her surprise and excitement for Jon, Sansa's eyes flew to the Sword of the Morning just in time to see his eyes change and his grip on the sword readjust, "I'm pretty sure this just became to the death."

Jaime just raised his chin and went on the attack.

Sansa watched the pair battle for half an hour. She didn't quite know what was happening the way the men did, but their commentary translated for herself and Ysilla well enough. There were cries of encouragement when their champion did something impressive and shouts of derision when they took a hit.

Tywin growled unhappily right before Brightroar flew from Jaime's hand and Aegon caught him with a powerful blow to the chest. The Golden Lion landed in the dirt with Dawn at his chin and a roar of cheers broke through the training yard. Maybe one day Sansa would ask the Great Lion where his son had gone wrong.

She cheered with the others and beamed when Aegon and Jon pounded against one another in a tight embrace, before the heir to the Iron Throne sheathed his blade and turned back to his opponent. Jaime was a good sport about it, letting her husband haul him up, before he hugged the young man tightly. Despite the jests, Sansa saw that all the Northern lords had a new respect for the Targaryen they were going to put on the throne, even Roose Bolton.

Eventually she ran down to throw her arms around him and steal a kiss. It was met with the predicted hullabaloo, but Sansa didn't mind. If she'd endured singing The Bear and the Maiden Fair on her wedding night, then they couldn't very well strike her to shame now.

After that match everyone headed for the midday meal in an uproar. Sansa watched closer as they ate and realized Tywin hadn't been jesting. Jaime wouldn't even look at him.

He took everyone's jokes with a grain of salt. The Golden Lion didn't seem bothered at all by his loss and sat easily on her husband's other side at the Head Table, "These Northerners just don't want to be facing retirement. There will be no living with the Red Viper when he hears about this!"

Aegon threw his head back and laughed, utterly in heaven with Jaime's arm slung around the back of his chair, "You aren't wrong. The man's obnoxious."

Sansa snorted, "Outsmarted him to wed in the Northern tradition and bested the greatest swordsman in Westeros. I don't think Oberyn is the one I'm worried about getting a big head."

"You tell him, Sansa," Jon hollered from Jaime's other side.

Whatever else they would have slung at one another, she was halted by a maid approaching to whisper in her ear that Arya was asking for her. She'd thought it odd that the shewolf didn't show up for the match and her sister never missed a meal. Throwing her napkin in her plate, Sansa quickly took off for her sister's rooms.

Winterfell was alive with excitement to put a Northerner on the Iron Throne as she moved through the keep, despite the talk of settling Wildlings and changes in leadership. Though Robb was young, having been at home meant that the people were embracing him quickly, and they wanted to see him succeed. While welcoming the Wildlings was something no one thought to see in their lifetime, the other side of the coin was young girls gossipping their curiosities about meeting a true 'Tam Lin' and being spirited away from their responsibilities.

Sansa grinned at catching all the conversations as she made her way to Arya hurriedly. Lady was ever at her side and both the Winter Rose and her wolf were shocked to see that Nymeria had even been locked out of the younger Stark's room. Knocking she was bid to enter as the sounds of unclenching pins signalled that the door had been unlocked.

Opening the door to see her baby sister standing in her small clothes, red lacing the front between her legs, Sansa smiled gently, "Oh."

It wasn't truly a surprise when Arya flew into hysterics right away, "I don't want to get married! I can't! I won't…"

Grabbing her face, Sansa insisted gently, "You are not getting married. You are only three and ten. Not to mention you haven't got a prospect in the world."

Arya seemed to relax before she got the joke and shove at her sister roughly, "Sansa!"

"Yes, horse face?"

They wound up tussling only the bed and laughing. After a few minutes, Arya rolled over and smiled, before it turned sour, "What do we do now?"

Sansa stood quickly, relieved to see that the sheets had been changed, "We get you ready, dressed, and fed. Have you been in here all day?"

"I didn't want to ruin…"

She trailed off and Sansa kissed her forehead, but shook her head, "You've ruined nothing."

They got Arya stocked with supplies and a few potions from the stock Oberyn had given Sansa in Dorne. Then finally got moving back to the hall and food. It was no challenge to slip in next to her father, where he was straggling on the edge of Robb's other side with the Targaryen princes alongside Tywin, with Jaime on the boys' left.

"Father…"

"Yes, Sweet Wolf."

"I have bittersweet news."

Grey eyes shot to her and his dark brow shot up, "Alright?"

"Arya flowered…"

"Oh… I see." The Quiet Wolf quickly turned to Jon and demanded his ale. Jon didn't even look up as he downed it and then demanded Aegon's, which finally had them turning around.

"Father!" Sansa scolded.

"She is only three and ten!"

They all glanced down the table, but Arya was already lost in conversation with Dacey Mormont and little Lyanna.

"It's to be celebrated," Sansa reminded, "You've got at least three years before you've anything to worry about. Probably longer."

The previous Warden of the North appraised her unhappily, "I made the mistake of thinking two years was more than enough time. Can't imagine three is that much longer."

Robb chuckled, "Alright, what's one more feast tonight? Before we seize the Iron Throne."

Ysilla beamed and quickly took to preparations. Sansa helped at first, but was waved off quickly when Aegon wanted her in the meeting about the siege. It made sense, of course. They were about to put a Stark on the throne as Queen, Arya had flowered, and everyone wanted to make sure their interests would be looked after.

She and Aegon had just been taking their seats in the otherwise empty room when Jaime and Tywin stormed in. The Golden Lion was clearly trying to escape his father and Sansa reckoned there was no better time to get this settled than the present. She closed the door quickly once they were both inside.

"Alright," Aegon studied the two like a puzzle he couldn't figure out, "What is going on?!"

"He won't speak to me!" Tywin insisted.

Jaime growled, "I made it clear that until you tell me why that boy isn't putting you to the sword, I have nothing to say to you."

The Lannisters spoke mostly in growls when under duress, so Sansa wasn't truly surprised when Tywin made a similar noise, "You are trying to awaken a beast better left for dead."

"I'll risk it!" Jaime yelled, pointing to Aegon, "You slaughtered his mother, his sister, and would have done the same to him! You deserved worse than Dorne could offer!"

There had always been something guarded behind Tywin's gaze of emerald and gold, ever since Aegon questioned him on the ship, but Sansa watched the dam break at his son's words, "I didn't give that order… Cersei did."

"No…"

"Believe me or don't. Your sister wanted to be Queen and she saw her chance when Rhaegar died," He sighed, head falling into his hands, "I sent the ship to get Rhaella and her children out. Varys was supposed to take care of Elia and the grandchildren… I never thought your sister would…"

Sansa reached for Jaime, but he jerked away looking like he might be sick, "You're wrong…"

"Believe me or don't. Your daughter with the woman will inherit the Rock."

The Golden Lion crumpled to heave into a pot. Aegon got up to try and hold the man together, but he too suddenly looked ashen despite his tan as he kneeled on the floor. They looked like fallen snow after a blizzard.

Sansa put a hand on Tywin's shoulder. His twins had been caught fucking in the old tower and then he spent months in the Black Cells to give Jaime a chance. It wasn't that Jaime's hostility wouldn't be justified, if it had been true, but Tywin was innocent of what everyone thought. He'd given up more for his family then most could ever imagine and almost paid that price.

He did in another life, but Sansa still had questions about that.

Eventually her husband managed to get the Kingslayer back on his feet, but the younger Lannister was still staring at his father like the man was unrecognizable to him, "You said you were coming to end the Mad Dragon."

"And I did," His tone seemed to hold a reminder for them all, while the young husband and wife met confused glances, "Then, you and your sister forced my hand and I left you to rule like you obviously wanted."

"That wasn't why…"

"I'm well aware of that now, Jaime," Tywin growled again, "Caches of wildfire under the city. And you didn't think that was something I might need to know!?"

"You'd just had Elia and her children slaughtered! I couldn't even look at you!"

"A stance you maintained for twenty years, while your sister played us all like fools!"

The lions stared at one another for a moment. It may have only been a held breath, but watching the two eye one another wearily broke her heart. Cersei truly had gotten off too easy.

Her husband finally sighed and squared himself against the Great Lion, "Why did you swear to ending the Mad Dragon? What finally changed that my father was ready to dethrone him? Then you?"

Tywin suddenly looked older than he had when Aegon first confronted him. She got a glimpse at what he looked like after the Black Cells, as he sunk down into a chair at the end of the table, "Tyrion Lannister is not my son."

Jaime rolled his eyes and huffed, "Gods, not this again."

"Not…" Sansa gasped as the truth revealed itself before her eyes just as the previous Hand of the King bared his truth, "She was raped by the Mad King and conceived Tyrion."

Jaime turned to stare at him.

"Rhaegar… When he found out, he was going to do it. To avoid a war of succession. He fell and..." Tywin hissed, "The only mercy of the whole damn thing. Neither of them ever knew what we'd become in their absence."

Aegon sunk down next to him, "Not the way I've always been told the story."

The corner of the older man's lips raised, "No… I suppose I would let them know how I failed, so they could see how you'll succeed."

Jaime rounded the table to sink down on his other side and Sansa opened the door. Luckily no one else had arrived yet, "You left King's Landing for the Rock. Left us there, because you thought…"

"Thought it was what you wanted," Tywin sighed, "When it was just what your sister wanted. I… I burned everything I ever loved to back her play."

"What did you think was going to happen?"

Emerald and gold eyes looked both ways to study Aegon and Jaime at Sansa's question. He finally shrugged, "The Targaryen dynasty was done in Westeros. I thought Jaime would be bringing a wife home from the Rebellion to appease everyone, but Dorne. Then she'd have Robert's children."

"Why didn't you…" Jaime trailed off, but Sansa knew what he was asking.

"Because he was a Lannister…" Sansa watched heartbroken as that was the one promise his wife got from Tywin on her deathbed, Tyrion's birthbed, "Because, he was hers."

"Dorne bends no knee," Aegon reminded firmly after a few minutes of silence.

"No, you're right. Eventually I would have handed over Clegane and a Baratheon princess to appease them with another marriage."

"Well, your new offer is a princess from a certain point of view."

Sansa rolled her eyes, "You won, now stop gloating."

"Never!"

Jaime rolled his eyes at Aegon, then side eyed all of them, "I've got a piss poor feeling about this."

That caused his father to hiss, "You need a suitable marriage after embarrassing the family for years…"

"The way you talk about family," Jaime quipped, "One would think you were a Tully."

"We were closely allied, before your sister's slaughter feast went unpunished," Tywin seemed like he was restating the fact, but the Red Wolf couldn't tell for sure, "And now Arianne Martell needs a husband to produce the next generation of Martells."

"Very well."

"Jaime, you cannot just keep being a glorified body guard," Tywin seemed to start right away, "You have an obligation to your family. And if you don't do this, I will stick my foot so far up your arse, Tommen's nose will… Wait, what?"

"Alright, I'll give Dorne and heir and spare," Jaime agreed, "But, Tommen travels with me and Myrcella gets the West."

"Done," There was a silence like the grave that took over the room for the longest moment, the Great Lion taking his son in and Jaime doing the same, "It's a shame, truly. We should have had this conversation a couple of decades ago."

Sansa snorted, but they were interrupted by her father's arrival with Robb, Greatjon, Roose, and Lord Rickard Karstark, as well as everyone's heir except for Lord Bolton. There was a large amount of banter, as they all accused Jaime of throwing the earlier match. Aegon was quick to offer Harrion, Smalljon, and Robb a match in the yard, if they were interested.

Otherwise her husband endured the ribbing very well. Several of the others that filed in shouted about the Kingslayer owing them money, which finally got a chuckle from Tywin, who insisted that his son pay him first. He claimed to pour his heart and soul into Jaime, only for him to end up bested by a measly near twenty year old.

Eventually they got the meeting moving forward when Sansa gave her older brother a look he was trained to recognize. Robb called the room to order, before smoothly passing the reins to her husband. Though the men here were still largely strangers to him, Aegon had no trouble being in the spotlight. Leading the room was natural to him.

First, he announced the plans for his small council. Sansa knew all of the names coming up and approved, though she hoped it would go the way they thought. Tywin was his Hand, because when Sansa found her father in the Godswood while she was running with Lady, though the previous Warden of the North had looked at her like she was a child again for running around like a girl, he agreed that his place in life was the Eyrie with his wife.

He was keeping Lord Redwyne as the Master of Ships, as the man was the only one qualified for the job other than a Greyjoy, he stayed. After all, the first battle of their plan to retake the Iron Throne was putting Theon in Pyke. An official reclaiming of the Iron Islands. Then they would move for the Crownlands.

Lord Varys got Aegon out of the keep. He was not going anywhere. Sansa and her father both spoke on how much he'd helped them while they were getting into position in King's Landing. Casting Renly and Margery as a young couple without the family support she and Aegon had was a selling point. Especially as her father and Tywin growled at the incompetence of the Baratheon legacy thus far.

Much to Sansa's surprise the Hand of the King wasn't shy about making his daughter's sham marriage public. He stood to pace around the room like a caged version of the lions' namesake, finally coming to a stop right behind Jaime's chair, "If only you'd stopped at Kingslayer."

And there it was. A name reclaimed and further butchered. She'd heard tales of the spook her mother was said to have become in her past life, but thought the comparison striking. A mother turned into something with only the goal to take life; a son held accountable and never for what he always thought he'd done wrong.

Jaime didn't even try to hide his visceral reaction, instead baring it for all as he clutched his hand to his chest. Glancing around she realized that most of the men winced in sympathy for him. She'd have to assume it was a father and son occurrence.

Her uncle, Brynden Tully, was going to be Master of Laws and Aegon's uncle, Oberyn, Maesters of Coin. And Jon Connington would be named Lord Commander.

Tywin announced his son's engagement to Arianne Martell with a glare thrown over his shoulder as he leaned on the window watching the small blizzard that had begun outside, only a shoulder pressed against the cold stone. Sansa knew they'd be having it out privately over this and noted to put eyes in them again quickly. She hadn't exactly known there was a problem the night before and she should have.

This was still the great game.

But, a disgraced Stormlander as Lord Commander of the City Watch?

Sansa didn't need the vision of Jaime damn near breaking Aegon's foot with his heel to know that it was happening. She even caught the look of approval Jaime got when Tywin glanced over his shoulder again. 

They'd be fine.

"Yes, Lord Karstark," Sansa led, waiting until he met gazes with her, "Keep in mind that the wolves currently hold the North and the Vale, while my grandfather, and then Uncle Edmure, hold the Riverlands."

He raised his chin in acknowledgement.

"But, my husband brings Dorne and an alliance with his Aunt, the Great Khaleesi of Essos. She controls two thirds of the shoreline and everything we know of upon it," She sat back, "While he also brings the Gold Company, which represents a navy comparable to the Royal Navy of the Seven Kingdoms, and two dragons."

Sansa arched a scarlet brow at all of them, "He's the born heir to the Crownlands and you will have your pissing contests in the training yard where they belong. You can have all the life stage crises you want, but my priority is making sure everyone north of Crakenhill and Rosby, as well as east of Blackmont, don't plunge into war."

Her father grinned where he was sitting next to her with his arms crossed and the rest looked properly chastised. Sansa still met gazes with the Karstark patriarch once more and finished, "And anyone who thinks I will not be looking out for my people when winter is upon us questions my honor as a Stark."

He had the good sense to lower his head in concession.

Sansa took a deep breath and admitted, "There are no Northerners on my husband's Small Council. Let's say it and get it out of the way."

The Quiet Wolf hummed and reminded, "My children, or by laws, currently hold all the land north of Harrenhal, minus the islands. We're stretched thin, despite all of your jests about Catelyn and I having five!"

Several men snorted, but they kept their mouths shut for the rest of the meeting. Her father continued to explain that he would lead the fifty thousand men being brought by the North, Vale, and Riverlands. He'd be supported by Brynden Tully and Jon Targaryen as Aegon's General, so that they also had a dragon.

Jon froze just like he had when they stepped off the ship in Dorne at the thought of going to war with their father. It was something he'd always thought Robb would get to do and not him. If he hadn't come out of it by the end of the meeting she'd give him a jolt. He still had no idea what to do with a status worth more than even their oldest brother's.

Her husband took back over to explain that they were already calculating what he'd have to secede to prevent a war. Offering a place on the Small Council to the Reach and Stormlands was necessary, when the engagement they were proposing between their son and Renly's daughter were both only potentialities. 

So, yes. A Stormlander would be Commander of the City Watch and a Redwyne the Master of Ships. Sansa was his Queen and of the North, while he was more hoping that her uncle would agree. She was running short of relatives old enough to participate and he'd turned it down once after the Black Wedding.

Tywin shrugged lazily when Greatjon did call Aegon on that one, "It won't be an issue. We've been closely allied with the Tullys for years. He'll agree."

The meeting wrapped up with a discussion of what was happening beyond the Wall and Sansa reiterated that the North had their utmost support. Whatever trials Robb would face as Warden of the North. When mention finally came of a betrothal for Arya, Sansa spoke for her father and brother.

"While my sister has flowered, she will not be wed, without exception, for another three years," Sansa set all of them with a look, "I ask that only those who are willing to wait that time and have a serious case approach both my father and brother."

Greatjon met her Tully blue eyes and, where his son was already married, put forth what most were worried about at this point, "Will she be married into the North?"

Sansa shrugged, "She flowered this morning and I will be the first to proclaim a talk of her intentions has not been had. I can report that she hated every minute of being in the south…"

Aegon snorted in unison and agreement with her father, Jon, and Jaime, earning grins all around the room.

"... I can honestly say that I do not foresee my sister marrying to settle anywhere else."

That seemed to appease them by and large. Wolves with everything north of Harrenhal, a Stark daughter up for grabs, and a Northern Queen on the Iron Throne. Robb was doing a fantastic job and his generation was ready to march for their first war.

Sansa did not understand the appeal and said as much as she left on her husband's arm, "...peal of being dirty and sleeping in the woods? Sounds awful."

Ned chuckled, "It won't be all that different from our march to King's Landing, Sweet Wolf. We'll just happen to have ten thousand men marching behind us."

"And the supplies to boot," Sansa hummed, before deciding, "I'm going to check on Ysilla."

Her good sister was excited by all that was happening, but also stretched thin. Sansa sent letters to her mother at the Eyrie and Desmera at Riverrun to ask for support. Then, she made sure the new Wardeness of the North knew that they were her family and allies too.

The Vale woman hadn't seemed to consider Riverrun as a point of contact, as they were still largely Robb's family that was unknown to her. Sansa couldn't promise her when she would get to meet them, though they did confirm that if the North fell into war, then her brother wanted his wife and children to go to the Eyrie with their mother and his goodfather. Having an exit strategy was smart.

Sansa already had plans with Tywin to send a red herring to Dragonstone, while any children she had would be running for Myrcella and the Rock. Excited as she was to conceive, that came with a lot of necessary planning. Rhaenys, who should have been her goodsister, was a perfect example of what could happen to a babe in King's Landing.

They got the feast prepared together and eventually Arya trudged in from the Training Yard. She complained about missing Aegon spar with Jaime, but mostly she was thrilled that he and Jon had both sparred with her after the meeting. Being a warrior was important to Arya and Sansa was thrilled she'd gotten to train and grow while avoiding the House of Black and White.

Ysilla reminded the Winter Rose much of her mother. As a specimen Arya confused the Vale woman. She still showed interest, but couldn't quite imagine allowing what the wolves encouraged so easily.

"Meeting her… I worry about failing my daughters."

Sansa was touched when she felt safe enough to confess that as the shewolf went to get ready for dinner, "My mother best related to myself and Bran. There is not shame in relating to some children more than others."

"My daughters could grow up to be warriors. It seems so odd to think about."

That was fair, "They will be wolves and winter roses all in one. We all found our own balance."

The feast that night was loud and gallant. Men were pouring in as bannermen arrived and Arya was finding a decent amount of sparring partners for the future. Every unmarried son in the North wanted to see if they could handle the shewolf.

Most were doomed to failure, but Sansa rather thought her sister would enjoy having them try. She was backed most of the night by Dacey and even seemed to enjoy being a mentor to Lyanna as she ran around excitedly. It was an adorable sight to see, the shebears keeping an eye on the youngest Stark in the North as their pack was stretched thin.

Sansa spent most of the night with her father soothing the old guard as they worried about their sons marching to war. The divide was about half and half. Some, like Greatjon, were staying home for this march, while others, like Roose, were going on the voyage. Those that were staying home were quick to huddle with Sansa and Ned for reassurances.

The new guard was spanned out next to them. Aegon was beset on both sides by Jon and Robb, while they spoke to the Lords of prominent families, who would be marching with them. Ysilla ran interference with both parties to make sure they didn't need for food or drink.

As the party finally started to die down, most drunk and looking for a bed, Sansa saw that her family was wide awake. Arya was getting to that miserable point and she quickly suggested they all go out to the Hot Springs. So, three Stark children, two Targaryen princes, a couple of lions, and a maiden Royce made their way to the family springs.

The shewolf downed a potion as soon as they got there and Sansa knew that they had about an hour before hers kicked in. It was chuckle worthy when both her sister and Tywin groaned at sinking into the water. She knew the Great Lion was still recovering.

Jaime had hung close to his father since they had it out that afternoon. She thought that keeping his distance so pointlessly for years had made the Golden Lion weary of stepping away. It would certainly be interesting, this march on King's Landing.

"No wonder you wanted to get married," Arya groaned between her and Ysilla as the men rough housed at the other end, "This is barbaric."

"Well, I've been warned pregnancy is much worse," Sansa noted, "So don't think it a quick way out."

"Truer words have never been spoken," Her goodsister agreed, even as she rubbed her belly fondly.

"Father wants me to come to the Eyrie," Arya finally confessed, "With him and Mother."

"Is that where you want to be?"

"I don't know."

Ysilla hummed, but smiled warmly at the shewolf, "Well, your brother and I would love to keep you here. I know he's missed his family terribly."

"Bran gets to stay with the Blackfish until he marries or gains his own keep."

"True," Sansa didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, but she knew her sister needed to know, "You're officially the loveliest commodity in the North. Father probably wants you in the Vale, where you won't the hounded so relentlessly."

Arya snorted, "Aye... I want to see you and Aegon take the Iron Throne anyway."

Sansa grinned down the stream, where the dragons were trying to drown one another with Jaime and Father hopelessly trying to separate them, "It should be quite the spectacle. My husband does nothing by half."

As if to prove her point Sunaxes roared and flew into the clearing with Ballard. Both dragons sniffed around the pool and Arya finally, according to her little sister, got to meet the beasts. They realized quickly that steam poured from the dragon when Arya and their father touched the two reptiles as well.

Ned chuckled, "Cold of the North flows through our veins. I'm sure it will happen with Bran too."

"Jon here just has that dragon blood!" Aegon cheered, even when he had the White Wolf in a headlock.

They played for a while longer before Arya yawned and Sansa sent her to bed before she passed out in the pool, Jon going to make sure she got there. Ysilla was tired, as well she should have been while pregnant and running Winterfell with the banners pouring in, and Robb excused himself to go with his wife. Tywin went next and ordered the other two out briskly.

"Jaime, Ned," He huffed with a nod, "Walk me to my chambers."

Her father grouched unhappily, even as he hauled his arse out of the springs, "Why do I have to go? I'm not your son!"

Tywin just hummed, "No, but they’re newlyweds. Last thing we need is a by law loitering about while trying to secure the Targaryen dynasty from ruin. Move!"

Aegon grinned as they disappeared, swimming right up to her, "Papa Lion looking out."

Sansa snorted, "He just wants to say he saw his great-grandchildren in life."

He chuckled and kissed her, "A prize greater than winning any war."

While he had agreed with her, she couldn’t tell if Aegon was truly thinking the same thing as her.

They managed to make love twice in the next two hours before finally hauling themselves back into the keep. The few guards and drunks, including Tormund Giantsbane, who was leading the Free Folk marching south depending on what was found beyond the Wall, grinned at their pruny and soaking wet selves. Sansa just rolled her eyes and kept trying to do something with her hair.

Aegon still winked at the Wildling, who wound up throwing his head back laughing, before he trailed after Maege Mormont back to her chambers. Sansa was glad she wasn't the only one getting up to mischief this late. Or early.

When she woke up and had Aegon twice more before they got ready, he had the audacity to say that she only wanted him for the sake of getting pregnant. Sansa smiled at him as she strapped on his armor and divulged, "I expect at least six."

"Six?!" He turned to study her, "It's not a competition, you know?"

"The hell it's not," She muttered while they were making for the door, "I've wanted one more than my mother since I was four."

Jon snorted where he was waiting for them at the end of the hall once more, "Will testify in her favor, the number just kept going up over the years."

"Number of what?" Jaime demanded where he was walking up with his father and the Quiet Wolf.

"Children that my wife wants."

"Six," Ned Stark recited, "Minimum."

"Her will be done," Tywin huffed, though there was a certain playfulness to his tone as he gestured to the Sword of the Morning, "With haste Aegon."

He snorted, "My uncle is the Red Viper. Chances are I already have."

Sansa smiled and reached to kiss him, "I have no doubts."

That got a round of cheers from the hall. Everyone got to breaking their fast, anxious to tweak plans and spend the day in the Yard, preparing for their upcoming march south. Sansa had replies waiting from her mother and Desmera, which she'd see too with her goodsister while everyone trained.

As everyone was enjoying their food, the door burst open and a young stable boy came tearing up toward the head table. He was cold, running his fastest as evident by the fact that he had to skid to a stop, and gasping for breath, "Milord!"

Robb threw his napkin onto his plate and ducked around the table to kneel in front of the boy, "Jonathon, son, breathe. What's happening?"

"Yer uncle, Benjen… He's back with the hunting party!" The ten year old was still gasping as he tried to elaborate, "Needs all wolves… In the stable."

Robb nodded, "Ysilla see to him, darling. Father?"

The Quiet Wolf nodded, then he glanced to the Lannisters, "Would the lions like to join us?"

"With pleasure."

"Dragons?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Aegon chuckled.

"Aye," Robb nodded toward the doors, "Let's get moving then."