Hello lovelies! I felt a great catharsis while writing this. I have no history notes this time around, but I do warn there's a lot of feeling here.

I don't know about you, but I feel like Benjen Stark is an underrated character. I think he is just the coolest. I have a lot of feelings. anyways, I hope you enjoy this latest chapter :) much love! - FlamingRose

Christmas Day, 1917, Benjen Stark's Residence

Sansa awoke in the strange room and forgot where she was. She bolted upright, forgetting for a moment what happened last night. Then she remembered: she stayed with Uncle Benjen. Last night she read the first couple chapters of Great Expectations. She'd taken it with her to her room last night and fell asleep clutching it tight to her chest. Sansa understood why it was one of her uncle's favorites, though it was sad. But a sad book is what she wanted. She felt like Charles Dickens was sharing in her sadness. It was like he understood her melancholy, and somehow that alleviated a good deal of her pain. She hurried out of bed and looked out the window. The sun wasn't too high in the sky. She had time to go out before she had to leave for church, but she didn't want to waste any time. She quickly grabbed the extra frock out of the closet and dressed herself quickly. She wasn't sure what to do with the silver hair pin. She didn't want to let go of it, not today, but wearing it would draw attention to her. She didn't want that either. She opted for tucking it carefully into her frock's pocket. She hurried downstairs to grab her coat when she was met by Osha in the hallway carrying a pitcher of warm water.

"Miss Stark," she said, "good morning."

"Good morning, Osha. Could you tell my Uncle I went out for a short walk? I will be back in time for breakfast."

"Aye, I will," she replied, her eyes curious. Osha didn't ask though. She thought it better if she didn't know. Sansa was grateful. She didn't want to explain herself. She hastened to put on her coat and made her way out in the crisp morning. She set a quick pace down the sidewalk. She had to make it back for breakfast.

A couple hours later, Benjen came down to breakfast still not fully awake and sore from his day of travel. He was not used to sitting for that long in one day.

"Good morning Osha," he greeted his maid.

"Good morning, sir," she said as she poured him a cup of coffee, "Miss Sansa went for a quick walk this morning, but she said she would be back for breakfast."

"Well, it's breakfast now, where is she?" he said as he looked about at the feast of poached eggs, asparagus tips, English muffins, toast, and smoked salmon as well as fruit preserves in what seemed like almost every appetizing color. He took in the spread before him with a smile. Just as he was going to press Osha for an answer, Sansa entered the room with flushed cheeks and shallow breaths.

"Ah! Here you are!"

"Sorry Uncle, I took longer than I expected. I rushed home to make up for time."

"It's quite alright. I'm surprised you woke up as early as you did after the day you had yesterday. Have a seat. I'll be taking you home before church," he said as he stabbed an asparagus tip.

"Actually, I was hoping I could go to church with you," she said quickly, almost desperately. Benjen froze, the Asparagus tip halfway to his mouth.

Sansa shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her uncle was looking at her like she'd grown a second head.

"You don't want to go with your family?"

"You are my family Uncle," she said, evading his question.

"You know what I mean," he replied. She tried her best to maintain a blank look as he scrutinized her. She hoped he wouldn't pry. How could she possibly explain it all?

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Positive," she replied with a relieved sigh.

"Alright," he said taking a bite of his food. He hummed with satisfaction and a smile, the out of character occurrence already out of his mind. Satisfied, Sansa put a couple pieces of toast on her plate and spread a dollop of fruit preserves on each.

"Tell cook he's outdone himself," he remarked.

'Yes sir," Osha replied. Benjen went back to his meal, blissfully unaware of how little his niece was eating and how restless she seemed to be. Sansa reached into her pocket and grasped at the hairpin. As soon as her palm felt the stones dig into her skin she relaxed and her anxieties were soothed. As she breathed out, she tried to ignore the dull ache that lived in her ribcage. It had been there for months, but now more than ever, it was persistent.

"Alright Sansa, are you ready?" Benjen asked as he stood from the table.

"Yes," she said eagerly as she hurried to the hall to grab her coat. They made their way to the carriage that was waiting to take them to the church. They got in and spent the entire journey in silence. Sansa gently ran her thumb across the stem of the rose hairpin as she stared out the window. Benjen looked at her, wondering why she had such a face of determination. She looked like she was going into battle by going to church.

When they walked into the church, he understood why she was so determined on the carriage ride over. Walking through the isles he heard whispers. What was she thinking? Wearing black at a Lannister ball! All those Starks seem to be impulsive. I thought Sansa would rise above. Poor thing. And her frock. It's Christmas. Does she not have regard for appearance today of all days? Perhaps it's another statement.

The murmurs stopped once the service began, but once it ended the commentary started all over again. He made sure to walk briskly and was relieved to see her ignoring their whispers. She smiled and she kindly made small talk with anyone who approached her. She was the epitome of pleasantness. She was good. Benjen made his way past the throng of people, not sure what to do when he reached the edge of the sidewalk. Sansa made the choice for him as she automatically hung a right, walking at a quick pace. He hurriedly waved off the carriage and jogged a few steps in order to keep up with her. He walked in a bit of a haze, following the young girl but not really thinking or paying attention to where she was going. All he knew was that Ned would never forgive him if after fetching his daughter on Christmas Eve, Benjen just lost her on Christmas morning. Before long, Benjen noticed the headstones cropping up in his peripheral. He brought his head up and brought his eyes into true focus. They were in the graveyard. Sansa was standing uncertainly among the graves, looking lost for the first time since leaving Winterfell. Her determination faltered. He realized what she was looking for and put a hand on her shoulder guiding her to the left.

"This way," he said gently as he led her to Lyanna and Rhegar's graves. Once they got there, Benjen took a step back. He watched as Sansa took a tentative step forward. She seemed to be bracing herself against something before taking the last two steps until she was in front of the headstones.

Sansa kneeled in front of the graves of Jon's parents and carefully brought out a small wreath of pine needles she swiped from the Glover's backyard that morning. It was small, and a mix of brown needles from the ground and green needles from the tree. It wasn't her best work, but it was better than last year's wreath.

"I hope William and Maisie passed on your son's message last year," she started awkwardly, "I didn't know he visited you every year at Christmas, so I want to apologize in case you were upset with me. I'm trying to make up for it." She shifted about anxiously. How to continue was eluding her, but she took a breath and tried again.

"He said he would bring you a wreath every year, so I thought I'd bring one. It's not the best I've made, but I tried my best on short notice. I don't know what Jon would talk about when he'd come here to see you, but I will try my best." Saying his name took a bit of her breath away and she had to start again.

"He's gone to fight for us. He says he's protecting us. I wish sometimes that he didn't feel like he had to do that. I know he's brave, and he's strong. And he always protected people here. It makes sense he'd do it somewhere else in the world. I'm sure you are very proud of him. He's really incredible, but you know that. You're his parents…I'm sorry I am not very good at this…Anyways, I know he would be here himself if he could. I'm just filling in. He misses you and he loves you, and I guess in a way I also love you. That sounds strange, sorry. It's just—you gave the world him, and he's very important to me. I wish I could have met you both…Merry Christmas." Sansa felt the tightness in her chest expand and the lump in her throat grow. She felt a hand on her shoulder. For a moment her heart skipped with hope until she remembered it was impossible for him to be there. She closed her eyes and struggled to breathe. She just wanted him here with her safe and sound.

"Sansa," she heard her Uncle say as he knelt down next to her in the snow, "Is this why you insisted in staying with me yesterday?" Sansa could only nod.

"You did a good job." He said to her. She opened her eyes and looked out past the headstones to a tree, its branches stretching out over the sky. She could almost picture him standing there, looking out like he had last Christmas in Newport in a strange graveyard, not sure what to do with himself. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe in the winter air. She thought of his lips against her forehead, the way his hair sometimes did what it pleased in the wind, his kind eyes, the dimples he had when he smiled, that time in the upstairs parlor on Christmas day when he almost kissed her, lips against lips, and dear god why hadn't she been braver, more reckless, and made the first move? Then she'd know what it was like. Then again, if she knew, would his absence be even harder for her to endure? She opened her eyes and let go of a shaky breath.

"I miss him," she said meekly, her voice barely above a whisper, "I miss him so much it hurts." The tears were filling her eyes quickly. Now she'd said the words out loud, and now that they were out, the rest followed suit, the words tumbling out of her mouth barely leaving room for breath.

"Every day, I wake up, and there is an ache in the center of me, and for a frightening moment I think I can't move. But I somehow remember to get up, breathe in and out. I walk, I sit, I eat and talk and smile when all I want to do is just stop…I want to drop everything and go out in search of him. But I remember how many have already left, how many holes are in our own family, and I can't leave. I can't leave them, but I can't stay here." As she spoke, the tears fell and her voice quivered more and more with every sentence. Her hands trembled as she sniffled, sobs threatening to escape from deep within her.

"I can't stay here. Not when he's there, fighting for his life…And I'm so scared when I think of him out there…how he may never…" She couldn't finish the dreaded sentence. A sob escaped her and the floodgates opened. There was no stopping it. Benjen wrapped his arms around her and she fell into her Uncle as she cried.

"I know," he murmured into her hair, "I am, too." He held her there, saying soothing words to her and stroking her hair. He knew he'd look a mess walking home with his trousers soaked from the snow, but it didn't matter. Sansa could cry as long as she wished. He's stay here with her.