Sansa

Sansa stepped forward from the shadows allowing the brazier to illuminate her soft auburn waves, the light spilled over her strikingly beautiful face, highlighting the high arch of her razor sharp cheekbones and the brilliant blue of her piercing Tully eyes; the eyes of her mother.

She looked upon her little sister with suspicion, her words rooting Arya to the spot like a naughty child who had been caught.

"I am going to ask you again, dear sister, where are you going?" she repeated pointedly at her sister, knowing full well that her being the Lady of Winterfell meant nothing to her sister when it came to providing the courtesy of an answer.

Seeing as she was getting nowhere with this line of enquiry she changed tact.

"Arya, its cold out here, are you going to stand here gawping at me or are you going to tell me where it is you plan on going at this time of night? Dear sister, there is food, wine and cheer to be had in the Great Hall, we have won the unimaginable, you thwarted the long thought unthwartable, the terror of these wild northern lands. Surely you can banish your love of solitude and raise a glass with our men?"

"You must know Sansa, my mission is incomplete, you know enough about my list to know that there are three names left?" Arya hissed back at her. "These people need to pay for what they did to our family, or have you forgotten now that you have planted your feet firmly at the table, as the Lady of Winterfell?" She furrowed her brow at her imposing sister, feeling her dark glare wash over her, feeling none of the ice in her cold eyes.

Sansa approached her sister carefully, boring unwaveringly into her steel grey eyes, eyes so unlike her own, and did not see an ounce of delight, warmth or happiness in there now that the Night King had been defeated by her own hand. Instead she saw only pain, determination with a hint of sadness. However, Arya's soft round features did nought to give any of those feelings away. It was as if she was wearing a mask.

"You know that is not true Arya," Sansa stared at the hay strewn floor, breaking the ice and fire of the two girls glances. "You can't possibly leave now Arya, its dark and its not safe to travel on your own at night, what would Jon say?" Sansa pleaded with her sister, still fearing for her safety, a high-born lady, whether she liked it or not, daring to venture forth into the grasp of danger willingly, still forgetting that the petite girl of six and ten standing before her was a well blooded killer.

Arya's cold glare dropped at her sister's words, instead the corners of her full lips upturned into a smirk "Sansa, don't you think that we, as a family, have been through enough terrors now to know that the Stark's can handle themselves?" she teased, as if admonishing her older sister. Sansa frowned at her, not wanting to admit that she knew that her little sister was the little girl she had been when they had left Winterfell for Kings Landing all those years ago. She was however still sullen, boyish and stubborn as a mule. The thought, however, did nought to dampen her spirited persistence.

"What would Lord Gendry say?" Sansa smirked at her sister knowingly, looking at her through her lashes, her full pout upturned in the same smirk that Arya had worn only moments earlier.

At this, Sansa had thought she had seen Arya blanche at the sound of his name, but if she had, she had hidden it well again, preferring to busy herself by hastily slinging the heavy pack over the back of her mare whilst a look of contemplation played about her face. Finally turning to Sansa, through a painted, cool unreadable look, Arya finally answered.

"Gendry understands, he knows me and he knows that my list is important to me. He knows not to get in my way."

Sansa studied her sisters face for a sign, any sign of uncertainty but found none. Pushing aside her anger at her sister's cold words about her station, She immediately rushed forward and tugged Arya into a fierce bear hug, kneeling to bury her face into her younger sister's mousey brown locks, inhaling her scent, unsure if this was going to be the last time she would ever see her annoying little sister. It took her longer, but Arya placed her arms awkwardly around her sister's waist and hugged her back, though not as tightly.

Finally, Sansa let go, tears filling her sapphire pools, as she watched her sister climb atop her mount and disappear into the night.

"Goodbye.." she breathed, her tears clouding her vision. Her heart shattered in that moment. They had never really gotten on as children, Sansa favouring the activities that their mother had steered her towards, Arya favouring the activities of her brothers. They did not understand each other, but in this moment, Sansa finally understood her sister, and her need to avenge their fallen family. If she hadn't had to protect the North, Sansa would have gladly joined her sister, although she would have been of little use to her battle hardened sister. She would however have enjoyed watching the Lannister woman die screaming, Sansa's face being the last thing she saw before the lights went out in her cold green eyes.

Staring into the black nothingness of the midnight sky, she no longer saw the outline of her sister, and so with a heavy heart, Sansa left the stables, closing the doors behind her when she saw the smiling face of her faithful squire Podrick. An idea came to her as soon as she had wiped the tears from her face.

"Pod, send for Sandor Clegane to meet me in my solar at once, I have a job for him." With that, Sansa hurried for her chambers, lifting the skirts of her black gown high to avoid the salt staining the fabric, instructing a passing servant to ready The Hound's horse and have a pack waiting for him on their return to the stables.