A melancholic silence greeted the pair as they entered the Great Hall. Sansa whispered a quick prayer to the old gods before allowing her uncle to lead her into her seat. Carefully Sansa smoothed her skirts and nodded at her brother before casting a quick glance at her mother.
Robb looked toward Jeyne, who was seated at his right, sobbing quietly into her handkerchief. Why is Jeyne sitting in between Robb and Mother? Sansa could not remember when last her brother looked so disheartened. Steeling herself, Sansa patiently waited for his words.
Seeming to read her thoughts, Arya scowled between them and shook her head at Sansa. "Sissy, you won't believe what our brother is about. It is positively sickening. Prepare yourself."
"Oh?" Sansa replied innocently, fidgeting with the lace at her wrists. "Do tell, I beg of you."
"He's gone and_"
"That will do, Arya." Lady Catelyn raised her brow at her youngest daughter. Nudging her kingly son, Catelyn solemnly turned her eyes away.
Observing her mother's distress cut Sansa deeply; folding her hands, she willed herself to remain calm and recalled her Great Uncle's words.
"Sansa, I have news that concerns you," Robb finally announced. "Do sit down."
"Forgive me, Your Grace, but Great Uncle already led me to my seat, you see," Sansa teased, forcing a smile on her face even as sickening bile bit the back of her throat. I am a Stark, yes, I can be brave.
"Quite right," Robb coughed and sat down. "I am a bit preoccupied, sister. First I think you should know that Jeyne and I wed under the heart tree at dawn."
Beside her, the Blackfish growled low in his throat. Arya indignantly huffed and folded her arms while their mother shook her head and averted her eyes.
"Congratulations," Sansa pulled her lips into a taut smile. "I am most happy for you, brother, goodsister." Leaning forward, she kissed Jeyne and Robb by turns. "May the gods bless and keep you both."
Stone faced, Catelyn toyed with her collar in silence.
"Pray, forgive me, Your Grace, but I understood you were to wed in a sennight. I trust all is well, and that your haste to wed is merely born from the deep regard with which you hold one another."
It did not escape her notice that Robb wore the same sad expression as he did the day she left for King's Landing. "I wish that were true, dear sister. Lord Bolton has sent word that Lord Tywin's advances as far as Deepwood Motte. We must away at once."
"I see." Smoothing her skirts once more, Sansa continued praying while anxiously willing him to the point.
"We have intercepted messages meant for Jaime Lannister indicating Lord Walder Frey can no longer be relied upon for support."
"Oh? For shame, brother."
"Yes, it is my own fault."
"Indeed?
"Yes, due to rescinding my betrothal to the daughter of his choosing, thus allying our respective houses. I will be leading my army on the morrow south to treat with Lord Bolton. From there we shall travel to The Twins for Uncle Edmure's wedding."
Lord Frey is a coward who no doubt needed little incentive to abandon the Stark cause. Knowing this, Robb went ahead and wed the woman he loves, leaving the rift mending to Uncle Edmure and me. How very convenient for the king in the north. Sansa's kept her eyes on her hands so as not to betray her outrage.
Next to her mother, Arya snorted loudly, pulling Sansa from her thoughts. "Robb, you could at least tell her the real reason you got hitched so fast. Sansa will find out sooner or later anyway."
Sansa's eyes fell from Arya to Jeyne, who rubbed her belly self-consciously as she glanced up a Robb. It would seem that I am not the only curious member of the family, after all. Sansa stifled a self-satisfied giggle Robb would kill Sandor if he knew I shared his bed, and yet his bride is already with child. Bitterness welled within her; still, Sansa persevered in maintaining her usual innocent air and changed the subject. "Where did you send my sworn shield, dearest brother?"
"Sandor Clegane, the Umbers and Roderick Cassel are sent to escort Ramsay Bolton to Winterfell. I instructed them to travel hard, night and day. If the weather holds, they should arrive in a sennight."
Biting her lip, Sansa nearly choked on the words she knew he expected in response. "How good of you. Loyal bannerman that he is, I am certain he is eager to offer his congratulations to his king."
Arya indignantly stood up. "Tell her you had to marry, Robb! You owe her that much you know, after you send away the Hound and then-"
"Arya you will be silent or you else made to leave at once," Catelyn sharply admonished her youngest. "Robb's wedded day is not why you were called before your king, Sansa. It is not without a price that Lord Bolton stands beside us in our time of need."
Lady Catelyn moved beside her and took her hand. "The time has come for you to be the dutiful daughter that I raised, Sansa. It is for the sake of our family. For the sake of Winterfell and the north."
Her mother's words burned within her. For Winterfell, her family expected her to leave their home and marry a monster. Sansa knew she would never truly have Winterfell from the moment Joffrey took her father's head.
The north is Father-Winterfell is Father. Gods rest him, he never would have asked this of me. After their escape, Sansa believed she would never want to leave her family home again. When Sandor asked her to go with him, as much as she loved him, Sansa despaired at the idea. But the undeniable truth was Sandor had known of her precarious situation all along.
A flush of heat flooded her cheeks. Just stay calm and say what they want to hear. "Of course, Mother."
In the background, Robb halting made his excuses before finally admitting she was already wed to Ramsay in the sight of the new gods. His statement brought Sansa to her feet in an instant. "Brother, please, how could you-"
"In wartime, Sansa, vows are not a necessity between devoted highborns, you know that. Your claim will secure the support of the Boltons. Time is of the essence and necessity predicated the wedded customs of the old gods you follow. Once the raven reaches Lord Bolton, he has given me his word that he will support our push toward Lord Tywin's encampment."
My claim, she thought, sickened. That is all the value I possess, even in my own family. How could Robb trust their empty vows? Roose Bolton is the vilest of all my brother's bannermen, and Ramsay's reputation is pure evil.
"But the old gods will not approve, brother, please do not do this-"
"You and I were raised in the Seven as well. Mother, explain the Seven's tenets on the matter."
Sandor hated knights and Sansa hated them too, but in that moment she hated Robb worst of all. For a moment, she wildly considered telling everyone about her night with Sandor as a means of frustrating Robb's plans before recalling the promises she made earlier. The Blackfish patted her hand and willed her to sit down.
Catelyn's sorrowful eyes met her own before turning to her eldest son. "Yes, Robb, it is true that the Seven makes such allowances in wartime, but I have tried to make you understand the exception is solely made when the groom is very devoted to the Seven and is fighting in the king's vanguard."
"No matter." Robb waved his hand. "Ramsay will join us in the vanguard as soon as he comes to you, Sansa. The septon arranged it all. He assures me that the gods have taken into consideration your devotion and that alone will serve as a vow of the heart."
Never would Sansa have believed her own blood would auction her off to one such as Ramsay, not even to bolster the war effort. Trust Sandor, she repeated to herself, he is the only one who has never lied to me. He laid his sword at my feet and vowed to protect me and last night he swore to return, no matter what the others may plan for me.
As the silence stretched between them, Sansa knew what was expected of her; still, she could not let her feelings go completely unspoken. "Ramsay Snow-it is not to be born, brother," she finally choked out indignantly.
Brynden set a glass of wine before her and rested his arm on her chair. "Bear up, cub. Drink this, now."
"Robb, really, this is an extraordinary thing to ask of Sansa," Catelyn hissed, glaring at Jeyne. Her goodsister promptly began openly weeping once more. "It is no wonder she is stunned speechless. Is there truly no other means of achieving support? You must consider all other avenues, I beg of you."
Robb interrupted. "I agree it is most distasteful, Mother, but my advisors have assured me it is the only way." Turning to her, he gravely added, "Sansa you must never call him Snow, or he will hurt you."
"Mother, please," Arya tugged at her mother's skirts. "You cannot let Robb wed Sansa to the bastard of Bolton! He made Lady Hornwood eat her fingers!"
Outside Nymeria mournfully howled long and low; Grey Wind, Summer and Shaggydog added their voices until the courtyard echoed with wolf song.
"See even they don't like it!" Her sister howled at the top of her voice. "Robb, you'll regret this!"
Despair clutched Sansa's throat, but at the same time the sound of the direwolve's calls brought a strange calm over her. If Lady was here, I would not be afraid. I have Sandor, though, I must have faith. King Robert told Father to get me a dog. It seems I need Sandor's protection now more than ever, even in my own home.
"Mother, enough of this." Robb slumped in his chair and took Jeyne's hand in his own. "I have made my decision. Sansa is wed to Ramsay Bolton and that is the end of the matter."
"Robb, how could you? Father will haunt you for this!"
"Arya, silence!" Catelyn stood and took the squirming girl by the arm. "You need a walk."
"No! I've been a walk!"
"You need another." Sansa noticed her mother's eyes glistening with tears as she led Arya out of the room.
"Sansa-"Arya's voice trailed down the hall. "Don't let him get away with it!"
Robb squirmed in his seat, refusing to meet her pleading eyes. Draining his tankard, the Blackfish chuckled darkly. "Nephew, how do you hope to manage the whole of the north when you cannot control one unruly little sister?"
I must put an end to this at once, for Arya's sake as well as my own. Setting her shoulders, Sansa addressed her brother. "Please, may I take my leave now, Your Grace?"
"Yes, Sansa, but before you go," Robb's jaw clenched tightly, "I want you to know if there was another way, any other way, I would have chosen it."
I will never forgive this, brother, never, her mind screamed as wordlessly she fled with her great uncle on her heels. Once beloved to her as only an eldest brother can be to an admiring younger sibling, Robb lost far more than the support of the Freys and Boltons; Sansa was lost to him as a sister, forever.
Once inside her rooms, Sansa sobbed into her great uncle's jerkin until she felt there were no tears left in her.
"You must have faith in me, lass." He dried her face. "Tully women and troubles with men go hand in hand, or did your mother not tell you?"
She understood, far more than he knew. Sniffling, Sansa wiped her eyes. "I know, Great Uncle, thank you. Please believe, do not take my sorrow as a lack of faith in you. Far from it; I am just stunned by Robb's decision. I fear he is lost to me."
"I know, child," he stroked her cheek with a sigh. "Perhaps it will comfort you to learn that Clegane is not on the errand your kingly brother thinks, believe that. Pack a travelling bag, keep it hidden, and I'll let you know when to bring it."
