A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews! I've had this idea in my head for a while and am so excited to finally publish it. I've always wanted to write just a slightly more aware, slightly less annoying young Sansa and I want to see where it takes her! While she is still quite young, I wanted to write her with just a bit more maturity. Someone asked me what the pairings are for this story, and I'll tell you, I don't even know yet. We shall see! The first part of this story will take place when she is still a child and will not be romantically involved with anyone! Though I'm a big Sansa shipper, so I'm sure she'll find love at some point! I hope you enjoy- I have the next few chapters planned out in my head and hope to get them out soon! Let me know what you think!
The weeks passed, and while the daily activities had not changed for Sansa, she still couldn't quite shake the odd fear that had crept into her heart since that nightmare. The only thing that chased away her apprehension had been spending time with her family. And so she threw herself into ensuring that as much time was spent with her loved ones as possible. While she had always known that her duty was to one day marry and leave Winterfell, the thought did not quite give her the joy it had used to. Fulfilling her duty also meant leaving her family and moving to an unknown keep, surrounded by strangers, and that thought scared her. Who was going to chase away her tears if not her sunny younger brothers? Who was going to defend her honor if not Robb or Jon? Who was going to help her sneak into the kitchens at night to snatch some lemon cakes when the maids weren't looking if not Arya? Those fears plagued her and had her thinking of her future with trepidation rather than the empty-headed delight she had before. She just couldn't shake the cruel sneer she had envisioned in her sleep and instead sought out the comfort only the known could provide.
Her new behavior was starting to attract attention. While she had of course noticed the change in her brothers- they had finally stopped reacting with surprise when she sought them out- the biggest change had been Arya. The fact that the two Stark girls were wildly different would never change. Sansa still wished that Arya would just adopt a shred of decency and act with just a little more tact, but she also saw the strength and charm her sister held. And while Arya definitely still rolled her eyes whenever Sansa said something prim and proper, she started to laugh at her jokes and would include her in her conspiratory adventures. Even mother had made a comment that the two of them seemed to be getting on much better as of late.
But the changes were also noticed by her septa, and she alone heartily disapproved.
"It is unseemly for a lady of your standing to speak that way!" Mordane was currently lecturing.
She had caught Sansa teasing Robb at breakfast for the way his speech had sputtered when one of the new maids had delivered their bacon. The girl was new to Winterfell and had quite a sourthron look to her. Pale, and smoother skin than was normal to the servants, though her teeth and her eyes were a little too big for her to truly be considered pretty- features Theon was quick to point out. Sansa had deftly pointed out that perhaps it was not the girl's eyes that Robb was interested in. She had not meant it quite as lewdly as it had come out and Jon had practically spit out his fried egg when she had made the comment and Arya and Robb had roared with laughter. She had grinned wickedly, happy to be so playful with her siblings, but now she was being reprimanded.
"I'm not sure what has gotten into you, Lady Sansa," Mordane huffed. "You are skipping lessons, you're spending more and more time outside in the training yard, I'm afraid your humor has begun to tip into the obscene. Why, your behavior has almost gotten as bad as Arya's!" the matron huffed aggravated. Sansa felt a spark of anger build in her.
"Arya may not be the perfect lady, but she is still my father's daughter and she deserves your respect," she snapped, letting her temper get the best of her. Mordane fell back, a look of pure shock gracing her features. Sansa was too irritated to be ashamed- she had never lost her temper like this before, at least not with any adult. She had had childish rows with Arya and even with her brothers. But this anger felt very different. She was sure it came as quite a surprise to the septa that Sansa had the sharp teeth of any wolf. But she had put up with Mordane's disparaging remarks about her sister for long enough.
A throat was cleared behind her and both she and her septa whirled around at the sound. Four eyes widened in surprise and a bit of fear to see the Lord of Winterfell darkening the doorway. Sansa sprung to her feet and gave a dip of her knees to greet her father and Mordane sunk to the floor. Lord Eddard took in the scene before him with his grey eyes before dismissing the septa with a murmur. Mordane scuttled out of the room, fleeing the soft-spoken, but still imposing lord of the keep.
Her father didn't address her quite immediately. He came into the room and took in the solar where the children frequently had their lessons. A large map of the northern kingdom was a permanent fixture tacked to the table and he gently ran his fingers over the land he maintained. Sansa moved to the other side, watching his soft hands. His finger hovered over a point at the map and his eyes met hers expectantly.
"Bear Island. Home of House Mormont. A black bear in a green wood," she spoke with confidence. House Mormont was one of their most loyal vassals and was one of the first homes she had memorized.
Eddard did not quite smile, but she could see the pride in his eyes. His finger moved again.
"The Dreadfort. Home of House Bolton..." she paused for just a heartbeat, the sigil had always frightened her. "A red flayed man on pale pink". She could see the distaste mirrored in her father's gaze for a moment before the finger moved once more.
Ah, he was trying to trick her. But she met his eyes with pride. "Goldgrass Keep. Home of House stout. A chevronny of russet and gold". She named a much smaller house and he gave her a true smile before his face became serious again and he pointed to the last spot.
"Winterfell. Home of House Stark. A grey direwolf, on an ice-white field." He laid his palm flat on the map covering his keep and looked at her again.
"Our words?" his voice was like two stones grounding against each other softly. Gravely and low, but not unpleasant.
"Winter Is Coming." He nodded and moved away from the map. He gestured to the seat she had occupied while being dressed down by her septa. She returned to her spot and he sat across from her.
"Aye, Winter Is Coming. And when the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives," it was a phrase he had told them all many times. Sansa used to shiver when he spoke those ominous words. She had always hated her words and her sigil- had always wanted something prettier and less terrifying. "You seem to be getting on better with your pack lately" he said, and she could see it pleased him. "I'm glad to see it. Your mother's words- 'Family, Duty, Honor'. They are true as well. Your family will always love and protect you."
"Even Arya?" she asked cheekily and was rewarded with her father's low chuckle.
"Even Arya," he paused. "Even Jon," the question was left unsaid.
Sansa flushed slightly. She knew why her father was bringing up the dark brother that had never quite been received so warmly by her. But lately, she had been trying to mend the damage her coldness had done to their relationship. She had been so desperate to please her mother, who had always viewed Jon as a painful reminder of Ned's old betrayal. But the more time she spent with her brother, the more she had grown to disagree with her mother. It was not Jon's fault and treating him with such coldness did no good to anyone. While she could tell that her mother did not approve of her healing relationship, she had never said anything outright.
She stayed silent and her father let it go. "Family, Duty, Honor," he repeated. "You've made me proud, Sansa. I hope you know that. I can see that you have paid attention in your lessons, that you have grown into a fine young, lady. And one day, you will make a wonderful lady of a keep. But I am also proud to see that you have found your love of your family and that you have grown closer to your siblings. I hope you will always have them to protect you and to keep you happy." He paused another moment before shifting his weight and looking at her again levelly.
"Sansa, the king will be coming to Winterfell," her heart skipped a beat. "I believe it is his intention to ask me to take the position of Hand of the King. I also believe he may want to arrange a match between you and his son, Prince Joffrey. Would you like that?"
Sansa's eyes widened. Her, marry the prince? Become the queen of the seven kingdoms? Move south to Kings Landing and wear beautiful gowns and sparkling jewels? Preside over tourneys and be crowned queen of love and beauty by handsome knights? It had been everything she had ever dreamed of! Her breathing hitched and she clutched a hand to her breast to steady the stream of excitement that was flushing through her.
"Father, I would like that very much, she breathed.