Sansa Stark stood before you her black body cape over lapping her shapely body. Her her cut short resembling her old lover. A menacing look in her eyes. "A wise man once told me that knowledge is power and chaos is a ladder. I wanted more than just my ancestral home. The iron Throne will be mine just like my precious Petyr once dreamed. I do not care if my brother Bran sits that seat... that power will be mine.... no ours. For I am not one mer person, me and Petyr are one. We are the same, we are Lady Finger and we will have everything. We will take it with steel, with words, with lies, with swords, by any means necessary. We will black out the skys for we are the birds of the night they will hear our mocking song and tremble" she stood infront of an army of Littlefinger like paramours and various nothern soilders. "The north will be the capital. Kings landing is no longer fit, the age of the three eyed raven is over. My dark wings will sprout and they will dawn me queen of the sky"