DAGGERS TO THE HEART Part 2 - CLASH OF THE KINGS

Sansa VI

Sansa couldn't contain her emotions at the sight of Bran, standing alongside Nymeria at the castle gates. In an uncharacteristic display of affection, she rushed towards her little brother, wrapping her arms around him.

Now that Bran was almost ten and three, he had grown a great deal since Sansa was in Winterfell, making it impossible for Sansa to lift him. It had been two years since they last met, and in that time, Bran had undergone significant changes. His cute face was turning into that of a man. Thankfully, he hadn't transformed into the Three-Eyed Raven, a relief for Sansa. However, it was Bran's travelling companion, Lord Varys, which dampened her joy.

"Gods, Bran, you've grown so much," tears of joy streamed down Sansa's cheeks as she pulled back to examine him. "Let me look at you," she said, elated to see him standing on both legs. "I bet you're eager to learn how to be a knight from Ser Barristan."

Bran shifted. "Father wants me to learn how to run a keep first. But I can still learn, can't I?" he asked. "Is Ser Barristan alright?" he asked.

"He will be," Sansa nodded. "He's getting better. You might be able to see him later, you'll need to as Maester Fell."

To Sansa's surprise, Uncle Benjen emerged from behind Bran with a grin. "I got caught up with this bunch of waifs and strays. Thought I'd tag along," he said, stepping forward to greet Sansa.

"Uncle Benjen," she smiled, more tears streaming down her cheeks. She felt like a mess. "Why are you here?"

"Lord Commander Mormont thought it might be wise to have someone with a castle education to assist Mance in running this place until he's settled. Word has it a Northern council will soon be convened," Benjen explained, placing a hand on Bran's shoulder. "This one here needs to learn how to manage a keep, just in case knighthood isn't his path. And where better to learn than Queenscrown?"

"Bran, Uncle Benjen," Robb's voice came from behind as he strolled over, embracing his younger brother and uncle. "What brings you here?"

"He's been sent to spy on me," Mance interjected as he joined them with Robb. "Am I right, crow?"

"Aye, I suppose so, in a fashion," Benjen admitted. "I've been tasked with sending reports to Castle Black and Winterfell. If help is required, they'll send it. But my primary purpose is to aid you. If Mormont wanted a spy, he'd have sent someone unfamiliar. I bring skills that can benefit this place. And so does young Bran here," he added, smiling down at his nephew. "We can all support each other."

A cough interrupted the moment from behind Benjen and Bran, drawing their attention to a bald man clad in grey silken robes.

"Lord Varys, I presume?" Sansa inquired as Varys approached, taking her hand in both of his.

"And you must be Lady Whitestark. I've heard much about you, though I'm surprised you were aware of my presence. I only caught up with young Bran here last night," his soft voice purred. Sansa couldn't help but wonder if he had been observing them earlier but revealed himself at the opportune moment. "How did you recognise me?"

"Your reputation precedes you, Lord Varys. You're not the only one with spies," she replied with a sweet smile. Varys nodded in acknowledgement of her astuteness.

Sansa then addressed all three newcomers. "We spotted you earlier this morning. Your chambers are prepared, complete with hot baths. Food will be sent up shortly, and I imagine you all could use some rest. We'll reconvene later in the family dining room," she concluded, and with that, the group dispersed.

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Sansa was engrossed in paperwork in her solar when a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," she called out, setting aside her quill.