Sansa rode her horse in silence, face impassive. As she looked upon what once was Winterfell, her home, her heart filled with a combination of sadness and regret, but her expression didn't stray away from her mask of indifference. She wouldn't, couldn't, let them see any flicker of emotion. She had been a weak little girl in need of protecting for too long, no more. It was time she acted like the strong woman she was, the kind that her mother would be proud of.
Oh, but how stupid she had been. She had so desperately wished to leave this place –begged her mother and father, even. Dreams of marrying the prince, feasts, flowers and the perfect life, clouding her vision. Then, those dreams were crumbled, destroyed by the reality of life and she wanted out, she wanted to go back home. Now, after everything she went through to get here, she could barely recognize it.
Walls broken down, windows shattered and the people, the people of Winterfell, dead, gone. That's what hurt the most.
"With all due respect, my lady, this place is in no condition to be inhabited," one of her men said. "At least, not now. We could stay at an Inn while,"
"No," she cut him off. "Worse places I've slept in." King's Landing, for example, in fear of Joffrey, she wanted to say, but she kept her mouth shut. That was in the past, no more.
"As you wish, my lady," he inclined his head.
A few hours later, Sansa made her way towards the crypts where all of her ancestors' bones rested. She walked toward that space in the back that belonged to the remains of her father. It was empty, she knew, but seeing it like that filled her with anger. He deserves to rest alongside his brother and sister; I will get his bones here, no matter what.
While she sat there, she thought of her mother and father. Of Bran and Rickon. Of Arya, clever, strong Arya that she has yet to hear of since the day they captured her father. Of Robb, her valiant brother and his, another death attributed to the Lannisters. Of Jon, her bastard brother Jon Snow that she refused to love and care for while she still had him near her.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. She could feel her eyes burning, and the tears begging to be let out. S wiped my eyes furiously, I've cried enough for two lifetimes, no more.
In spite of everything, for the first time in a long time, she feel hope.
It's obvious that Winterfell is not the same place I left all those years ago, but it's okay, I'm not the same person that left so many years ago, either. I'll work on fixing it, praying it that, in return, it'll fix me.