The Strength of Her // SansaxSandor (On Hiatus)

Chapter 9

09. Intentions

A raven found its way to Winterfell one day, just after the sun reached the highest point in the sky. No one expected the paper to hold anything of importance inside despite being sent to Jon. Its departure was stationed from the southeast but not from any of the allied houses. Anyone glancing by assumed Cersei sent yet another claim to the Iron Throne and demanded the north bend to her rule.

But the scroll wasn't from Cersei.

"Why is she writing to us?" Sansa wondered aloud. She paced the floor of Jon's bedchambers. He presented the scroll to the Stark girls before relinquishing the news to the rest of the court later on. She didn't know the words on it but knew they couldn't bring good fortune. "Daenerys Targaryen doesn't know anything about us."

Jon shifted the scroll between his gloved fingertips. The broken red seal beheaded a three-headed dragon, its body swinging through the air limp and heavy. "She's not the one writing us. It seems she has someone very familiar with our family and the rest of Westeros at her side."

"Who?"

"Tyrion Lannister."

She stopped pacing. The name didn't stick between Sansa's ears at first. The list of people Sansa expected to hear standing side by side with Daenerys Targaryen was almost nonexistent, but never would she expect Tyrion. If anything Littlefinger said about Daenerys was even relatively true, the youngest Lannister was jumping from one queen eager to cut down her enemies to another. It didn't matter that Tyrion was innocent in the dealings against Daenerys and her family, he was easily risking his life.

"The Imp?" The named piqued Arya's interest, and she resorted back to the crude nickname she and so many others used.

"Daenerys names him the Queen's Hand. He writes on her behalf."

"And what does he write?"

Jon's eyes scanned over the ink on the scroll as if to see if the message could have possibly changed since he read it last. "Daenerys has a proposition for us. She's sending Tyrion to negotiate in her place."

The two sisters glanced at each other. Arya shrugged as Sansa asked, "She's sending Tyrion where? Here, to Winterfell?"

"It looks like it wasn't a request for invite, but a simple acknowledgment." Jon nodded, tossing the scroll to Arya. Arya caught it effortlessly. "He's probably halfway here already."

Whatever surprise that took hold of Arya drained away quickly. Her eyes darted back and forth just as Jon's had, like dark daggers being thrown to and fro. "She wants to be allies. She'll need the north on her side if she hopes to rule Westeros, dragons or not."

Her sister's point made sense. Everyone, even Cersei, knew that the north needed to be won over, or at least hopelessly destroyed, if ruling Westeros was going to be attempted. Had it not, the Lannisters wouldn't have tried so many times to take it for themselves. The north was vast and uninhabitable for those not accustomed to the harsh weather. Someone born with a fire burning in her soul would find it difficult to manipulate on her own accord. daenerys Targaryen's dragons may be able to melt the snow that the north built its base on, but she'd never find herself with the will to endure it when the chill settles in her bones.

But none of that meant she would leave the north in peace if they agreed to aid her.

The siblings didn't feel optimistic about the ordeal. Daenerys was just another queen looking for people to rule. But rejecting her wasn't an option. She hadn't asked and Tyrion was on his way whether they wanted to open their gates to him or not. Imp as Arya may have called him, but the man certainly upgraded his allegiances. He had found a new family to stand beside, this one just as fierce as the former.