Chapter Text
Sansa’s first clue that something was wrong was the fact that she was waking up in her childhood bedroom, which looked exactly like it did when she was a little girl. Most of her belongings had been destroyed or looted during the Greyjoy and Bolton occupations. The last thing that she remembered was fighting the wights who had burst into the room where the women and children were hiding and frantically trying to fend them off with a dagger. She should be dead and Sansa had long since given up believing in the seven heavens.
When she got out of bed, she realized she had the body of her childhood self. Sansa did not have the scars from King’s Landing or Ramsay and when she glanced in the mirror, her face was still young and had vestiges of baby fat. Sana doubted this was the seven heavens and it seemed far too realistic to be a dying hallucination. She hurriedly dressed and left her room.
Sansa had just left the family wing when Arya materialized out of the shadows and pulled her into an empty storage closet, her face looking very determined.
“Arya, what is this?” Sansa asked, looking upon her little sister. It was hard to believe she was ever that small.
“Sansa, what is the last thing that you remember?” Arya asked urgently.
Arya was acting quite unlike what Sansa remembered of her childhood. They had a rather contentious relationship that wasn’t quite repaired until after they reunited in Winterfell after Jon and Sansa had defeated the Boltons. Sansa’s heart beat with a flicker of hope.
“The White Walkers, the Long Night, Winterfell being overrun-”
“Oh thank fuck. I was worried I was the only one,” Arya said, pulling Sansa into a hug.
“This isn’t some afterlife, is it?” Sansa asked.
“No stupid, I think we’ve travelled back in time,” Arya said.
“Travelled in time? That’s not possible,” Sansa shook her head.
“Just like White Walkers and dragons aren’t possible?” Arya asked.
“Fair enough. Do you think it’s just us?” Sansa asked.
“The servants and guards are acting like usual, although they seem to be doing a lot of preparation. I think this is right before King Robert came to visit. If you and I both time travelled, it would stand to reason that Jon and Bran did as well. I was going to go check on Jon when you came out,” Arya said.
“Let’s go,” Sansa said.
Jon’s bedroom was not in the family wing, at their mother’s insistence. Instead he was housed in one of the guest wings closer to the servant’s quarters. When Arya entered his room, without knocking, Jon looked at them in awe.
“Arya? Sansa?”
“You time travelled too then?” Arya asked.
“Time travel?” Jon asked.
“Apparently,” Sansa said.
“How?” Jon asked.
“Presumably magic or the Old Gods,” Sansa said.
“JON!!!” a tiny figure rushed into the room and clung onto Jon’s legs, bursting into tears.
“Rickon, oh Rickon,” Jon said, picking up their youngest brother and holding him close.
“I’m sorry Jon, I couldn’t run fast enough,” Rickon sobbed.
“It’s okay, you’re alright, everything is fine,” Jon said consolingly.
“If Rickon remembers, even though he wasn’t there at the end, then perhaps Robb does as well,” Sansa said thoughtfully.
“That would make things easier,” Arya said.
“We’ll need to decide what to do,” Sansa said thoughtfully.
“Obviously we’re preventing the war and preparing for the Long Night,” Arya retorted.
“I meant how we are doing that. King’s Landing is currently a tinderbox waiting to explode and it’s a miracle we managed to muster even a fighting force in the end considering how chaotic the realm was. The Lannisters will have to go, at least Cersei and Joffrey, and Jon is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, but getting people to follow him without the desperation of the future will be difficult,” Sansa mused.
“You’re the political one,” Arya shrugged.
“No, no way,” said Jon, who had clearly been listening to their conversation while comforting Rickon.
“You are Rhagear’s trueborn son, the rightful heir to the throne and the best chance of uniting the realm in time to stop the White Walkers from killing us all,” Sansa said.
“Besides, do you really want to leave the throne in the hands of the Lannisters?” Arya asked.
“We need to go get Robb and Bran. Come along Your Majesty,” Sansa said, sweeping out of the room and leaving Jon no choice but to follow her.
The few servants they passed on the way back to the family wing, they passed several servants who looked at them curiously.
“Robb, do you remember the future?” Arya asked, entering her brother’s room without any preamble.
“What? I- I think so. I was at the Twins and then, then Talisa,” Robb stammered.
“We’re having a planning meeting to overthrow the Lannisters. Come along,” Arya said.
“Bran?” Sansa asked, knocking and poking her head into her brother’s room.
“Sansa, Sansa I can walk,” Bran told her excitedly, standing in the middle of his room.
“Are you yourself or are you the Three-Eyed-Raven?” Sansa asked cautiously.
“I’m me. I remember being the Three-Eyed-Raven and everything I learned, but I cannot access those powers anymore,” Bran explained, brow furled.
“Everyone’s waiting. We’re going to try to figure out what to do now,” Sansa said, helping Bran into her room where the others were waiting.
“So, we’re going to kill the Lannisters, the Boltons, the Freys and put Jon on the throne. Sansa, what’s your plan?” Arya asked, twirling a knife.
“Jon? What do you mean we’re putting Jon on the throne?” Robb asked.
“Jon isn’t Father’s bastard. He’s Jaehaerys Targaryen, the son of Aunt Lyanna and Rhaegar Targaryen, who were in love and secretly married. A lot happened after you died,” Sansa explained.
“Jon also fucked his aunt,” Arya said.
“I didn’t know Dany was my aunt,” Jon said in annoyance.
“Jon’s a Targaryen?” Robb asked.
“Yes,” Sansa said, crossing the room to pull something off her bookshelf.
“And you are planning on overthrowing the Lannisters and putting him on the throne?” Robb asked.
“Yes,” Sansa said.
“How?” Bran asked.
“Well, King Robert will soon come to Winterfell to offer Father the position as Hand. In addition to Arya and I, Jon should come with us, claiming he wants to learn a trade or something. Bran is the best at warging, so he can send messages to us via raven. From there, we’ll need to take out Littlefinger. Arya should be able to manage that and it’s King’s Landing, so there will be no shortage of suspects. We’ll make allies, install someone loyal to us as Head of the City Guard.”
“Then when King Roberts is fatally injured, we’ll move to assume power. Cersei and Joffrey will need to be killed. Myrcella and Tommen are sweet enough and if we make it widely known that they are bastards, they will be less of a threat. We install Tyrion as Lord Lannister, he has no great love for his sister and will be loyal enough if we spare the younger children and send Jamie to the wall. We send a message to Daenerys, explain that Jon is the rightful heir to the throne, wants to connect with his only Targaryen relative left, offer her Dragonstone and being Jon’s heir until he has children, then regency of Dragonstone until his son comes of age. We secure power and prepare.”
“Did you think of this all right now?” Robb asked in astonishment.
“More or less. Jon, what do you think of Margary Tyrell?” Sansa asked.
“Your friend from King’s Landing? I think you would know her better than I,” Jon said.
“I meant how would you feel about marrying her,” Sansa clarified.
“I beg your pardon?” Jon asked faintly.
“If you’re going to be king, you need a queen. Margaery is smart, a noble lady who wants to be queen and would bring the wealth and armies of the Reach with her. It’s the best match, especially given Daenerys can be brought to our side without you marrying her at this point in time” Sansa explained.
“But-I’ve never met her. I don’t want to marry her,” Jon protested.
“Noble marriages are about strategy, not love. Ideally, you marry someone who benefits your family and who you will grow to love in time, like Mother and Father. Given what we’re attempting to pull off, Robb, you and me and maybe even Arya will need political marriages. Bran and Rickon might be able to have the luxury to choose, but we won’t. Margary is the best match and I do believe you will grow to at least be friends in time. Besides, you’ll need someone who understands the court and how to run a country. Just make sure you don’t let her manipulate you too much,” Sansa said.
“I’m not getting married!” Arya protested.
“I was thinking Jon could legitimize Gendry as Lord Baratheon after he takes the throne, you could marry him. He wouldn’t force you to be ladylike, you could happily wear tunics and trousers and he’ll definitely rely on you,” Sansa said, to which Arya looked thoughtful.
“And my marriage?” Robb asked, bemused.
“Either you marry within the North to consolidate power, or there’s Myrcella and Shireen. Neither are really a threat, but it would be good to ensure they can’t be used as a figurehead,” Sansa explained.
“The North would be best. The lords didn’t like it when Father married Mother, but at least that was only the Riverlands, not the Stormlands or the Westerlands. If we need to, maybe marry one to a Northern house, another to someone else loyal to us,” Arya put in. “What about you?”
“There’s Tommen, I was imagining we could possibly legitimize him as a Lannister, put Tyrion in charge of the West and Tommen as his heir, or one of Kevan Lannister’s kids, although I’m not too fond of being a Lannister again. Then there’s Dorne, or a double marriage with the Reach. Or a lesser house, maybe in the Crownlands or the Vale. I would want a marriage where I could live at Court and help Jon, someone who would not try to control me” Sansa said.
“You can be on my Small Council,” Jon said. “I’ll need someone I can trust.”
“Sansa’s a girl,” Robb said.
“Aye, and she’s the smartest person I know, man or woman,” Jon said.
“What about the Boltons and the Freys?” Arya asked. “I want to be the one to kill them.”
“The Boltons, like most of the Northern houses, will come to Winterfell for the King’s visit, or at least set out to Winterfell. They’ll send a raven to let us know when they will arrive, so it should be easy enough to figure out where they will be on their journey. Arya, you can can kill them on their journey here and make it look like bandits” Sansa asked.
“And the Freys?” Robb asked.
“Wiping out the entirety of House Frey would be way too suspicious. While we are travelling south along the King’s Road, Arya should be able to take a horse in the middle of the night, ride throughout the night, sneak into the Twins and smother Walder Frey in his sleep, then get back. If just her and I are sharing a tent, I can cover for her. Walder Frey is old, it will look like he died in his sleep of old age. His sons are idiots, they won’t be smart enough to scheme against us. Not to mention without the War of Five Kings, there would be no need to get revenge. If his sons continue to be a problem, then we pick them off one by one until someone harmless enough gets the lordship,” Sansa said.
“I can live with that,” Arya said.
Before they could get any further, the door opened and Catelyn Stark entered the room.
“What are you doing?” Catelyn asked, looking at her children.
Catelyn had come upstairs to see why they had not come down for breakfast. All five of them, plus Ned’s bastard, were assembled around the table in Sansa’s bedroom, with maps and books spread out. Sansa was dressed in a deep green wool dress, instead of the Southern silks she usually favored. Arya had a knife tucked into her belt. Rickon, her youngest, was being held by the bastard and all of them looked quite shocked to see her.
“Mother,” Sansa exclaimed, rushing towards her and embracing Catelyn.
“My darling, what’s wrong?” Catleyn asked.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just really missed you,” Sansa said, fighting back tears.
“You saw me just last night,” Catleyn said in confusion, reaching up to place the back of her hand on her daughter’s forehead.
“Should we tell Mother and Father?” Arya asked, seeming to direct the question at Sansa.
“Well I suppose we have to sooner or later. Might as well do so now,” Bran said.
“We need Father’s support to pull this off and there’s no way he won’t notice we’re acting different,” Sansa nodded.
Catelyn attempted to follow the exchange in confusion. What were her children up to?
“Father grew up with King Robert, he won’t approve of what we’re planning,” Arya said.
“I’m sure we can convince him to see reason, especially when we explain about the White Walkers,” the bastard said.
“I’m sorry, what?” Robb asked in confusion.
“The White Walkers are real and have just begun stirring. In a few years they will attack and bring down the wall, which is why Daenerys’ dragons are so important. Only dragonfire and dragonglass can kill White Walkers and wights. They defeated the forces of the living” Bran explained.
“White Walkers, from Old Nan’s tales?” Robb repeated in shock.
“What in the name of the seven are you going on about? Is this some game of yours?” Catleyn asked.
Her children turned around, as if they had forgotten she was standing there.
“Mother, could we all have breakfast in Father’s solar today? We need to talk to him, it’s highly important,” Sansa said, with the dignified bearing of a noble lady.
Ned Stark was a tad confused when a servant came and told him that his wife and children wished to eat breakfast in his solar this morning. They usually ate their meals in the great hall along with the rest of Winterfell. While they would occasionally have family breakfasts alone, it was rarely on such short notice. Perhaps one of the younger ones had a nightmare and Catelyn wanted to comfort them with a private family meal?
“Cat, children, good morning,” Ned greeted as he entered the room.
The table had already been laid with food and all six of his children were sitting down.
“Father!” Arya exclaimed, looking at him as if he had just gotten back from a long journey.
“The children were quite insistent we all have breakfast together,” Cat said.
“Lord Stark, we need to tell you something. It’s hard to believe, but please hear us out,” Jon said.
“We have time travelled from around seven years in the future. At least Arya, Jon, Bran and I have. Robb and Rickon both died before then in the wars that took place after King Robert’s death,” Sansa said, so serious and solemn.
“It’s true,” Bran said. “You discovered that Cersei’s children aren’t Robert’s, they are her bastard children with her brother Jamie and they had you executed when you tried to reveal it. Robb went to war with the Lannisters and Stannis, Renly and Joffrey all fought over the throne. The Greyjoys went to war with us and took over Winterfell. White Walkers began to stir beyond the Wall. Daenerys Targaryen hatched three dragons. Arya escaped the Lannisters and made her way to Braavos, where she trained as an assassin. Sansa was held hostage, married to Tyrion Lannister. Then the Boltons and the Freys joined with the Lannisters to kill Robb and Mother and take over the North, Sansa was forced to marry Bolton’s bastard. Jon died, then was brought back to life, I became the Three Eyed Raven, Jon and Sansa took back Winterfell and then we joined forces with Daenerys to fight the White Walkers. They killed us all and with no other choice, I sent us back in time so we could better fight against them.”
“What?” Ned asked in shock, sinking into a chair.
It was insane, beyond even Old Nan’s wildest stories. Yet he couldn’t help but look over at his children. Jon, who stood with confidence and strength that he never had as the Bastard of Winterfell. Robb, no longer the smiling boy he knew, instead had the bearing of a military commander. Sansa, his sweet soft daughter, who stood tall and regally with ice in her veins, a determined look in her eyes. Arya, who moved with deadly grace and cold eyes instead of running around underfoot. Bran, who moved with an urgency, even now flipping through books and writing something down. Rickon, the baby of the family, who was curled up in Jon’s lap, looking afraid to let go of him. He could not deny that these were not the same children he had seen yesterday.
“Wait, you sent us back?” Arya asked.
“Yes,” Bran said.
“You should have said so sooner,” Sansa said, faintly exasperated.
“We all woke up, with memories of the future and we will prevent that future from happening,” Arya explained to their parents.
“Jon’s going to be king,” Rickon piped up from where he was still clinging on to his oldest brother.
Ned looked even more shocked at this proclamation, while Catelyn looked confused and angry.
“Because apparently Jon is a fucking Targaryen and you didn’t tell us,” said Robb.
“How did you find out?” Ned asked in horror.
“Bran can, or used to be able to see into the past,” Arya said.
“And we have a plan to put Jon on the throne. We won’t kill King Robert, we are going to wait until he dies months from now and then take control, making allies in the meantime,” Sansa said. “It’s the best way to prevent thousands of unnecessary deaths and ensure that we are prepared for the White Walkers. Are you with us?”
“Are you certain this is the only way?” Ned asked.
“Yes,” Bran said.
“Explain again what happens in this future of yours and what your plan to prevent it is,” Ned said with a sigh.
Bran, who was the most well informed of all of them due to his experience as the Three-Eyed-Raven, went over everything that had happened from when Ned became Hand onwards, with Sansa and Robb breaking in on occasion.
“So, accept the position as Hand when the King comes. Arya, Jon and I will go with you to King’s Landing. Do not betroth me to Joffrey if possible, but if it’s unavoidable I can handle being betrothed to him for a short while. Don’t trust Littlefinger, he’s the cause of most of the wars and chaos. Finally, most of the Northern houses will come to Winterfell for the King’s visit. If there’s a girl that Robb takes a fancy, invite her to stay at Winterfell for a while,” Sansa said. “We can handle most of this.”
“You will not! I forbid it. You cannot overthrow the King. You all suffered so much in this future of yours, do not get involved once again” Catelyn protested.
“Mother, we might not look like it but all of us except Rickon are fully grown adults and with our knowledge of the future, we stand the best chance to save the realm. We aren’t children anymore,” Robb said gently.
“We have to do this Mother, there’s no other choice,” Arya said softly.
Catelyn looked over at her adult children before nodding solemnly.
“Good, Bran and I will work on planning out exactly what we should do as well as creating several backup plans. Getting enough support for Jon without the chaos of the future will be hard but doable,” Sansa said, glancing over at her brother’s papers.
“They would easily support him if he had dragons,” Bran said.
“Which is why it’s so important to get Daenerys on our side as soon as possible,” Sansa said.
“No, I mean dragons of his own. There are dragon eggs under Winterfell,” Bran explained.
The whole room was silent for a moment, processing this statement, before exploding into noise.
“EVERYBODY BE QUIET” Sansa yelled. “Bran, please explain what you meant by ‘there are dragon eggs under Winterfell’.”
“At the start of the Dance of Dragons, Prince Jacaerys came to Winterfell to treat with Cregan Stark. His dragon laid several eggs and given the civil war, Prince Jacaerys hid them in the depths of the crypts to retrieve later when he returned South. He never got a chance to retrieve them and their existence was lost to history,” Bran explained.
“Why didn’t you think to mention this before? More dragons would have been immensely helpful against the Others,” Jon said.
“The lower levels of the crypts are caved in. By the time I learned of the dragon eggs, practically on the eve of the Long Night, it would have taken more time than we had to get through the rubble and we couldn’t take the manpower away from preparations for the Long Night. The dragons would have been small and wouldn’t have made much impact as it takes several weeks before the baby dragons could even breathe the tiniest flame. I didn’t think it was relevant since it wasn’t a potential option. In hindsight, that was a bad call and I was really desensitized due to the powers of the Three-Eyed-Raven” Bran explained.
“Yes, it was. But this is good. With dragons, Jon will have a much easier time taking the throne. Even if the dragons aren’t grown and ready for battle, they are a potent symbol and represent the restoration of House Targaryen. How long would it take to get them?” Sansa asked.
“With a team of twenty men, it should take around a week. I saw Daenerys hatch her eggs and know how to. Jon will have to bleed on the dragon egg. It can be done in a shorter time frame if he uses more blood, then he builds a pyre and uses a human sacrifice. The best sacrifice would be someone who has wronged him deeply,” Bran explained.
“Human sacrifice? Absolutely not,” Ned thundered.
“Maybe we could use one of the Boltons?” Arya suggested, ignoring Ned.
“It would be easier to capture Ramsey without drawing attention, he is just a bastard and is less familiar to the North,” Sansa thought out loud.
“I could kill Bolton and all of his men on their way here, knock Ramsey out and bring him for the ritual,” Arya said.
“Arya, you will not be murdering anybody,” Catelyn protested.
“That would leave a tight timeframe for hatching the dragons before King Robert arrives,” Sansa said. “Not to mention the struggle of transporting the dragons, even if they are small.”
“The direwolves will also be growing. We use a separate wagon for the direwolves, stash the dragons in a cage in the back, cover them with blankets and sneak them food when we feed the direwolves. Everyone will give the direwolves a wide berth and unknowingly avoid the dragons,” Arya shrugged.
“That’s insane,” Robb said, still looking shocked from all the revelations his siblings were casually tossing about.
“It’s crazy enough that it just might work,” Jon said thoughtfully.
“Everyone seems really calm about the thought of dragons and Jon having a dragon and hatching a dragon with a human sacrifice,” Robb said.
“Dragons are awesome, but at a certain point you stop thinking of them as childhood fairytales come to life and start thinking of them as a massive tactical advantage,” Arya said.
A knock at the door stopped the conversation in it’s tracks.
“Enter,” Ned said.
“My lord, my lady,” Rodrick Cassel said. “A guardsman just rode in from the hills. They’ve captured a deserter from the Night’s Watch.”
“Ready the horses. I’ll deal with it,” Ned ordered.
“Will the boys be coming as well?” Rodrick asked, glancing at Robb and Jon.
“Yes,” Robb cut in eagerly, surprising his parents.
“And I’m coming as well,” Arya said determinedly.
“Very well,” Ned agreed, shocking Rodrick who bowed his head and left.
“This is good. If we actually hear the deserter’s story, that gives us a reason to be concerned about the White Walkers. Then if Father sends a message to Castle Black, the Others will be on everyone’s mind. As soon as the first wight gets brought through the Wall and attacks, which should be soon, they’ll send a message and we can officially start preparations,” Jon said.
“The direwolves!” Arya exclaimed excitedly.