Oathkeeper

Chapter 57: Gone, Gone, Gone

It had been three days since Ilizabeth and Jon left the castle. They were still many miles from Castle Black, and even more from Jon's home in the Frostfangs. At Castle Winterfell, each day that went by seemed to grow harder in managing her absence. The Queens felt it everywhere, during supper, meetings, walks, and especially during Brienne's lessons with Gabrin.

Sansa remained awake for most of the past two nights and was only able to find the comfort of sleep after taking the pup out to pee several times. By then the sun was rising again. She wished she could lie in bed, left to be confined to her chambers with no one but Brienne and her unnamed pet. But the recent decapitation of Lord Cerwyn and his son left their castle in a compromised position.

Being that his wife's swollen belly was currently a moment away from bursting out the child she carried, she was deemed unfit for travel and remained at home with their younger daughters. The remaining knights that accompanied Lord Cerwyn to the celebration remained in Winterfell by order of the Queen and were meant to return with Sansa. Which of course meant that the people who lived behind the walls of Castle Cerwyn remained oblivious to the fact that their Lord and heir were dead, and that meant the Queen owed them a visit.

She was set to travel this morning and inform his wife of their families treasonous act and grant them a chance to repledge their fealty to House Stark. The Queen's small council didn't dare think about what would happen to the last of the Cerwyns if they refused.

They hoped that this would be the end of it, for everyone's sake. That their late Lords' religious fanaticism only afflicted the wine and water he drank from. Opinions like that tend to spread quickly like a disease, and if the Queen caught wind of the whispers against her family, she'd kill them faster than a fall from the moon door.

After Sansa finished explaining the plan to the small council, she dismissed them early enough to make time to see her son before leaving. Though his condition bettered exponentially, the boy was still confined to his bed by the orders of both his mothers' and the Grand Maester.

Maester Horden confirmed that although a full recovery was of paramount importance, it seemed highly unlikely. The blade did too much damage and the torn ligaments would most likely heal abnormally. Instead of being able to walk, run, jump, and dance normally, Rickon would always move in a sort of hobbling manner. Now whether it would be severe enough to refer to him as a cripple or not was unknown, and would be until the boy made a complete recovery.

This only served to add fuel to the fire that burned inside of the Queens, especially Sansa. And what worried Brienne the most, was that it almost seemed as if Sansa had reached a certain level of feeling unworried. That whatever she planned to do and say during their trip to Castle Cerwyn would handle everything.

The two women were the last to leave the meeting chamber. They walked through the hall with Sansa's furry companion following closely behind. Occasionally she would zip in front of them, stop and turn in an antsy search for them all while her pink slobbering tongue dangled from her mouth.

"Have you given it any more thought?" Brienne said, interrupting Sansa's thoughts. "A name for her,"

Sansa stopped to look down at the energized wolf now nipping at her boots. Her ears had stretched out slightly, now standing a few inches taller than they did before. They flexed backwards as she tugged at the boot lacing with all of her strength.

"No, I have not been able to think of one just yet," She responded.

"She'll need one soon," Brienne replied, while crouching down to carry the wolf. "And somewhere else to sleep. Why do I get the feeling she's already gotten bigger?"

Sansa didn't respond. She was too busy dealing with the pain of an oncoming headache to realize her wife was still talking. Her head had practically developed its own pulse from the combination of stress and lack of sleep. It banged violently every time she was forced to acknowledge anything with an expiration date. And as beautiful as the Queen is, she wore this tire and stress everywhere she went.