Six months after the reunion with Jon, Sansa goes into labor. It's a long, tiring process that tests the limits of Tyrion's sanity. At one point the midwives even banish him from the birthing room because his nervous pacing keeps placing him in the way.
When it comes time for Sansa to push, though, he is right there beside her, holding her hand and biting his tongue; praying to any deity that will listen to let her and the child be okay.
Imagine his surprise when his prayers are triply answered. Sansa is just fine… and so are the twins.
"Twins," he whispers, awestruck by the perfect little creatures being bundled by the midwives. "They're beautiful. They're… normal."
"They're just like you," Sansa says, and she sees the look of fear cross his face as he double checks for signs of dwarfism. "They're perfect."
Tyrion sighs and takes her hand.
"That, my Lady, comes from their mother."
The midwives bring the little bundles over, handing the boy to Sansa, and the girl to Tyrion.
"Hello, my sweets," Sansa coos. "My little Eddard, and Joanna."
Tyrion can't take his eyes off of the beautiful little girl in his arms, named for his mother. She has thick hair, curly like his, but flaming red like her mother's.
Eddard on the other hand, looks how Tyrion imagines Jaime looked as an infant, a head of straight blond locks.
"Thank you," Tyrion tells Sansa, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "This is the best gift I have ever received."
Two months after the twins are born, and completely turn their lives upside down, Tyrion and Sansa find their world flipped once more with another surprise arrival.
One morning they receive word of having two new visitors, and when they go down to meet them, Sansa's heart almost falls from her chest.
It's some woman named Osha, and Rickon.
After disbelief and some tears, Osha explains how she got the boys out of Winterfell before it burned, and how she met Jon at the wall and he sent her here.
Rickon has no problem fitting into the family at the Rock, and Osha is offered quarters as well. Not that they would turn her away, but Rickon insisted she stay, and Sansa feels he's come to view the woman as some sort of mother figure.
Another year passes and the winter grows brutal, storms raining down unrelenting. Walkers are marching upon the wall and the Night's Watch is far outnumbered. Stannis Baratheon sends men, but even with his help things are not looking good.
That is until Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, the Unburnt, Queen of the Andals and of the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons rides in on a dragon to save the day.
She leads an army of eight thousand Unsullied, and three dragons. All she needs is the dragons.
Daenerys and her dragons wipe out the army of White Walkers in three days flat. Then, once their victory is assured, they head for King's Landing to take back her throne.
Cersei and Tywin refuse to see reason, but Jaime is not so blind. Rumor has it that when word reached King's Landing of Daenerys' imminent arrival, Jaime fled. Taking Tommen, and Brienne of Tarth with him, much to Cersei's displeasure.
Daenerys conquers King's Landing in less time than it took to defeat the walkers.
Tywin and Cersei do not survive the take over.
Word of her kindness, strength, and victory over the walkers spreads throughout the seven kingdoms and almost everyone swears fealty without hesitation.
Sansa is worried what will become of them, but it turns out her fears are unjust.
Varys, who has quite a firm hold on the new Queen's ear, convinces her that Tyrion is the best of his family and wants only the best for the country, as she does. Daenerys decides to let him keep the Rock, the Lannister's vast fortune, and allows Sansa and Rickon to keep their claim on the North.
Despite predications, the winter is one the shortest in living memory and summer dawns just six months after the new Queen takes her throne.
At the Rock summer is welcomed in ceremony; a wedding ceremony.
Arya and Gendry swap their vows by the seaside, both refusing to be married in a Sept.
Wanting to keep the tradition of being married in a dress, yet remain true to herself, Arya wears a simple dress that only falls past her knees, and she refuses to wear shoes. Gendry looks at her as if she were a princess draped in silks and jewels.
After the ceremony the two set off, heading for Winterfell. Sansa has tasked them with overseeing the rebuilding of their home.
Sansa and Tyrion stand in the courtyard of the Rock and watch them ride away.
"Are you okay?" he asks, squeezing her hand.
"Yes," she sighs. "It's just… I never thought I could bear being parted with her again."
"She'll be okay, she's the best swordsman in the land these days."
"Oh, I know she'll be okay," Sansa smiles sadly, "These are peaceful days now. It just feels like something is ending."
To her left she hears the twins laughing and Sansa looks to see them chasing after and tackling Bronn.
"Things always end," Tyrion reassures her, "but there are always new beginnings."
His other hand comes up to rest on Sansa's swollen belly, rubbing gentle circles.
Sansa bends down to kiss her husband, enjoying the sweet familiar taste of his lips.
"This is supposed to be the longest summer yet," she tells him.
"And what a summer it will be."
Author's Note: I don't know where to begin... I just want to say thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story, reviewed, followed, or favorited it. I know I wasn't always the best with keeping up to date on updates, and so I really appreciate you all the more. Thank you so very much, I just hope the ending lived up to your expectations.