Reborn In Fire And Blood

Chapter 33

Sansa

Sansa had refused to let go of her babe the past two months. She kept him in her sight at all times, rarely ever leaving a wet nurse to watch him. At night she pulled his crib close, so she could be sure he was safe.
      "Careful now. You don't want to end up like your aunt." Bronn snorted, taking a bite of his breakfast sausage.
"I am not my aunt." Sansa declared. Picking up a scone, she sank her teeth into it. "A mothers love doesn't make her insane."
"Tell that to Lysa Arryn." Bronn cracked again.
"My lady, it would be a healthy idea for you to go out, without your son. May I treat you to a walk in the gardens and lunch?" Tyrion waltzed into the dining hall, taking a drink of wine.
      "Couldn't break fast with us, but had time to get a drink?" Brianne scoffed.
"I suppose. Who will watch my babe?" Sana'a returned her eyes to the man in the doorway
"A wet nurse, or our new servant girl, that watched Lyanna. My lady, your child will be okay."

      "It's much warmer than usual." Sansa spoke, undoing her cloak.
      "You'd think winter was short this year." The two laughed, strolling through the gardens. Winter roses lay in the frosted grounds, as bright of blue as the summer sky.
"Everyone said Korb began his courting to you with a single winter rose." Tyrion spoke, plucking a beautiful flower from the serpent-like tangle of vines.
"Yes. It's hanging in Winterfell now." Sansa dismissed, walking to the small patio overlooking the sea.
"I never truly got to say how sorry I am. Though you and Korb had been married only a few months..."
"It's fine. He's gone now. A mans ignorance. Not even the old gods or the new can save men from that. Charging into battle, with the promise of glory and dying worthy." Sansa sat on a gilded chair, pulled from the table by Tyrion. "My mother used to say we women try our best to keep our sons from the graves. Sadly it's the grown men we marry too."
Tyrion looked down, embarrassed as what to say.
      "I suppose that's how we were all raised. Men get to die, while women pop out many sons." Tyrion spoke, sitting across from the queen.
A servant strolled out, carrying a tray full of tea. The smell of lavender and chamomile wafted into the cold air. The man poured two cups, and added the lavender honey to them before setting them down in front of the two.
      "Make sure the lunch is served promptly. I slept in through breakfast." Tyrion directed the man.
The two were silent, as the cool winter winds whipped and snapped the hair and clothes.
      "Bronn had a point, back there." Tyrion looked up to Sansa. "Your aunt went crazy over her son. You must be careful."
Sansa's face twisted into anger, standing up.
      "Why is it when women are emotional over their children, or anything for that matter, they're seen as hysterical or crazed? What of the maddened men in our history who've done far worse."
      "My lady, I'm just warning you." I would hate to see you isolate yourself because of this child." Tyrion slowly took a sip of the scalding liquid.
      "Thank you for your help, lord Tyrion. But I will not need it. My child will be fine, as will I. He is my true heir to Winterfell. If anything happened to him, my claim to my kingdom would slip." Sansa walked away, stopping just behind Tyrion. "And I'll be returning to my real home. I want my son to grow where I did as a child. Not where i was kept prisoner."