"A Rose that Thrives in Winter"
She hates it; the wary looks on their faces, eyes accusing, judging, untrusting and full of contempt, silently screaming her aunt's name wherever she went. She tries to ignore it as much as she can, she masks her face with a courteous smile to hide the pain and makes her way through the Northern crowd.
She doesn't need to hear whispers for she already knew what they think of her. She blames it on her uncanny resemblance to her aunt, perhaps if she didn't look like a younger version of Lynesse Hightower, blonde hair and all, the North would trust her and people won't think that she and her aunt are the same.
Hiding inside her room won't help, she was betrothed to the King's newly legitimized bastard brother and her absence in occasions will be taken as slight so she decides that if she wants to prove them wrong, she'll need to impress them, she needs them to see that she wasn't just another materialistic southern girl invading their land.
And to do that she needs to adapt to the Northern ways so she starts with her clothes, she trades her beautiful silk and satin dresses to the simple ones made of cotton and wool. The next one she changed was her hairstyle, she started learning how to arrange her hair in uncomplicated braids unlike those she would wear in the South. She learns their songs, their traditions, their beliefs, she tries to befriend Lady Stark, the healers and soldiers and sometimes even her betrothed's wolf, Ghost.
Jon, her betrothed, quickly noticed the changes and Sansa didn't bother to hide the blush that formed on her cheeks when he told her that she looked beautiful in a Northern dress. And she thinks that it's only the start, she still has a long way to go before she can convince everyone that she isn't her aunt, but she knows she will thrive after all roses don't only grow strong in the South.
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