Author's Note: I don't own the Game of Thrones television show or the A Song of Ice and Fire series. I think the next few paragraphs are gonna make that pretty obvious. Reviews are always appreciated!
Jon didn't say goodbye to Sansa when he left Winterfell for Castle Black. She only remembered that as the horn called that same castle to attention at her arrival. He said goodbye to Robb, he said goodbye to little Rickon, and he had even said goodbye to Bran, though the boy couldn't have heard him.
Of course he had said goodbye to Arya as well. The two of them were closer than any combination of the others. Arya had loved him best, even above her true born brothers and sisters. It has vexed Sansa then, but she felt stupid and ashamed of those feelings now. She wondered if Jon would see her and instantly wish it had been their little sister at his gates instead. Her heart gave a pang at the thought and it confused her. What part of her heart was left to break?
She had been jealous of them once, deep down in her heart, hidden away where no one could see, especially not her lady mother. Their brothers had loved Arya and received joy from teasing her, but Arya followed Jon around like a nursing pup and Jon laughed loudest when Arya told her jokes and played her pranks. Smiles on Jon Snow were rare, even in their childhood. Laughter from him even rarer. Their love was as clear and pure as the driven snow that blanketed their roof tops. Sansa didn't think she remembered what that kind of love had ever felt like, if she had ever experienced it at all.
Sansa had envied very much back then, and still today if she was being honest with herself, but she was jealous of other things now. She was jealous of the little girl she had once been. She was jealous of the girls who were still as dumb and as hopeful as she had been then. She envied the seven kingdoms and their wall and army of protection. She didn't need all the Brothers of the Night's Watch to protect her, she didn't think. Just the one brother…
Sansa knew she had been cruel to him when they were children at Winterfell. Shunning him to win her mother's favor. She gained that favor, but she wondered, now, at what cost as the gates opened before her. She was a girl then. Just thirteen. Her age didn't excuse her rudeness, she knew that, but she was a foolish girl none the less. Sansa was a great many things now, foolish still among them, but she was not that silly little girl any longer. She only hoped he'd allow her to show him.
She wished she had been kind to him those years ago. The thought first entered her mind the very moment that Petyr had called her Alayne. The Gods were funny that way. Making her a bastard after she had been so cold toward her own bastard brother. Sansa dearly wished that she had done something to secure his love for her, so that she could be confident that she had it now, when she needed it most, as she climbed from her horse and looked around the yard. It was one of the many things on the list of things she wished she could go back in time and fix about her childhood. It was one of the many things the long list she kept of her regrets.
Her breath caught in her chest when she finally caught sight of her oldest brother. The chill on her skin, the ache in her bones, the brokenness of her soul forgotten when she saw Jon's face at last. His lack of farewell to her was forgiven in an instant, as she hoped her coldness toward him would be.