"Sansa."
She started. Ghost, laying beside her, did not.
She'd found that she liked the massive direwolf's presence, particularly when Jon wasn't there. Nightmares about Ramsay walking into the room were alleviated a bit when she thought about how he'd find more than he'd bargained for in Ghost. Ghost would bite his dogs in half and rip his throat out.
That was a comforting thought.
Jon was still waiting by the door. "Yes?"
"I was serious about teaching you to use a sword."
She looked up. He was holding two wooden swords, one in each hand. There was a broad smile on his face. One of his friends, Ed, had commented earlier that day, in a somewhat bemused sort of way, that he hadn't seen Jon smile so much in five years of knowing him as in the two days since she'd arrived. She suspected that he was exaggerating, but she understood his point.
"What's the use?" She wiped her hands on her skirts; they were suddenly very clammy. "Everyone I meet is going to be much, much better than me."
He strode over to join her and dropped onto the bench, a sword still in each hand. His grip on them looked easy, which made her a little uncomfortable, for all that they were only made of wood. "The point isn't to be better than them," he told her. "The point is to be good enough to take them by surprise."
She thought about that for a moment. "Because no one expects someone like me to use a sword."
"Mm."
That did make some sense. "Should I be - should I be wearing trousers?" She couldn't quite imagine wearing trousers, especially not in front of anyone, but that was how everyone she'd ever seen using a sword fighting with it.
"Will you be wearing trousers if you need to use a sword?"
"No."
"Then no." He smiled and held one of the swords out. "Come on, then."
She made one last attempt to avoid what she was sure would be utter humiliation. "I don't want to go outside," she told him. "I'll do it, but only in here." When he hesitated, she added, "If I needed it, it probably wouldn't be outside, anyway, would it? And I won't be able to take anyone by surprise if they see me learning."
His brow was furrowed now. There was something comforting about seeing Jon wearing the same expression he'd worn for most of their childhood.
She saw her chance to avoid at least some measure of humiliation, and she took it. "Jon, how much do you really trust them?"
"They wouldn't touch my sister."
"They let people stick knives into your stomach."
He sighed. "All right." He jerked his head. "Come on, then."
Sansa made one last-ditch effort to change his mind. "I won't be able to carry a sword around and still pretend I don't know anything, you know."
"I know. I'll carry two. So will whoever is there when I'm not."
His jaw was set. He looked quite a lot like their father in that moment, and she smiled despite herself. "Fine." She took the sword he offered her. She was just raising it when there was a knock at the door. He lowered his sword and called "What is it?" She followed his lead as his friend Ed stuck his head inside. "Jon -" He caught sight of her.
She felt her face start to get red.
"What is it?" Jon repeated.
The corner of his friend's mouth twitched a little. "Never mind. It can wait."