Thicker than Water

Chapter One -

"Here they come!" Arya Stark bounced down the wooden steps, her gloved hand dusting off the fallen snow from the thin railing.

Sansa shook her head, smiling, as Arya's strong yet tiny frame was halfway across the yard. In a moment, Arya would be shouting at the guards to open up the gates. Knowing her little sister - she might try to open them herself. Sansa couldn't deny her excitement either, it was past due time for Jon to come home. She enjoyed her role as Lady of Winterfell, the de facto Queen of the North, but Jon was the true King. There was no denying he had proven himself fit to rule. Bran was no longer himself - he had changed so much due to his visions that he could never be King. Sansa knew she would lead beside Jon, but her true interest was protecting her family and the people of the North with strong defenses. She had no plans to get herself into any more battles any time soon.

The new gates gave a great creak as men and women alike pried them apart. Sansa felt her chest filling with pride. They were good workers; her workers. She knew Jon would be thrilled with all her accomplishments. Sansa watched the party ride forth - there was Brienne and Pod at the front, of course - as well as Ser Davos and several other men riding along in his party, all heavily outfitted in warm leathers and fur cloaks. Some were in chainmail and other full armored suit and helmets, ready to fight, if the party was attacked while traveling home. Sansa continued scanning the small crowd, but saw no sign of Jon. She swallowed, nervous for a moment. He had to be safe - didn't he? They would have sent a raven, and he couldn't be - no. He couldn't be dead, not after they were finally all home.

She stepped back, as did Arya, waiting as patiently as they possibly could until everyone had dismounted from their horses and come forth to properly greet them. Brienne quickly strode over to her, and Sansa took the tall, strong woman's hands in her own. "Jon," Sansa said. "Is he - is everything all right?"

"He's well, My Lady," Brienne said quickly. Her eyes locked onto Sansa's. "I have a letter for you. It explains his current situation. I'm here to help advise you, as well as Ser Davos."

The Onion Knight took Sansa's hands next, smiling at her as he always did, and she couldn't help but smile back. "Take heart, m'lady," he said. "Your brother sends his well wishes, and things will all be settled sooner than you think."

Sansa nodded, trying not to show her confusion. Arya, on the other hand, poured loudly and protested about Jon's absence. Sansa tried to quiet her sister down, but Arya had spotted someone who had arrived with Brienne's party, and practically ran into the young man's arms. Sansa's eyes widened as she watched her little sister. She looked at Brienne questioningly, and Brienne shrugged.

Ser Davos cleared his throat, and Arya and her friend finally parted. Sansa was keen enough to notice her sister's hand lingering by the man's. Arya looked at everyone staring at them, and tried not to laugh. "We - we were in the Night's Watch together. And the Brotherhood without Banners. Until they sold him to a witch."

"What?" Sansa asked, confused.

"Oh, never mind. Look - Gendry and I have some catching up to do. I'll meet you in your chambers when you're ready to discuss Jon, Sansa. Just send for me, we'll be in the training yard." Arya and Gendry had already begun walking away, loudly chattering about hot pies, and swords.

Sansa continued greeting all the men, thanking them for all they had done for her brother and the North. A tall man, almost as tall as Brienne, was covered head to toe in plain, sturdy steel armor, and the last one to greet her. She reached out her hand. "You can remove your armor, Ser," she said to the Knight. "They've closed the gates and I assure you we're well protected."

The Knight said nothing, but lingered in front of her, and Sansa had a strange feeling of deja vu. It wasn't Jon - he wasn't that big of a man - but she knew this person, somehow. Sansa frowned. She was no longer a child and didn't have to put up with ridiculous pranks anymore. She was the Lady of Winterfell, and this Knight would do as she commanded.

"I said, you may remove your armor, now, Ser." Sansa leaned in, her tone dark as her lovely hand-made dress and cloak.

The man's large hands reached upwards, as he obeyed her order, and the Hound pulled off his heavy helmet and gloves. "Not a Ser," he said, but his voice had changed. He would have growled it at her before. He spoke to her the same way he did right before the very last time they saw each other. Tenderly. Softly.

"Hello, Sandor," Sansa said, steadying her voice. "Not a Ser." She took his hand in hers, and the two continued to look at each other. "It's been a long time."

Sandor nodded, and they couldn't let go of each other's hands. He knew Davos and the others were watching them with the same looks on their faces when they saw the little she-wolf jump into the arms of that boy with the warhammer. Sandor didn't want to pull away from her, however. Sansa was looking at him very closely, and wouldn't let go of the grip she had around his fingers. As far as he was concerned, Sansa Stark didn't have to ever stop touching him.

"My lady," Brienne said, breaking the silence. "Shall we meet now or - "

"Let us give Arya a little time with her friend before we meet. About an hour or so, they have not seen each other in a very long time. Nor have I seen my - friend - for some time." Sansa knew Brienne would be confused at her calling the Hound her friend, but she didn't care at this point. She had shed enough tears in her lifetime and she had left enough words unspoken. It was time.

"Make yourselves at home," Sansa said to the traveling party. "Please go the kitchens and eat and drink what you wish - you have earned your keep here, but we have much to do in the coming winter. Sleep well, and I will hold a meeting in the morning, where I will include your deeds and give you your newly assigned duties in my address to our loyal allies."

She knew they would see her as a confident leader and also as a fair one, but she did particularly not want them to see her around the Hound any longer. Even Sandor looked impressed at how firmly and direct she was - however Sansa felt something very vulnerable and secret deep within her heart. She decided she would tell him, but only if he would let her in. The men began to leave, but Sansa quickly reached her arm out to stop Sandor. "No," she said. "You stay with me. I must speak with you."

For a brief moment, she thought he might ignore her, but he stayed. Perhaps, Sansa thought, he has a weakness for me, as well. Cersei once told her love was weakness, but Cersei loved to drink, she loved to toy with people, she loved to tell lies. If those things would be her downfall, Sansa would have thought Cersei a dead woman a long time ago. The Hound was strong, but even he could love - and Sansa knew she could do the same.