AN: Hey friends, it has been way too long. But I finally got away from audition prep and depression for long enough to write. i feel a good long run coming on, so I will hopefully update this story as much as i should. I have no history notes this time around. I hope you enjoy this newest update :) much love! - FlamingRose
Christmas Day 1917- Ned and Catelyn Stark's Home
Benjen and Sansa walked up the steps of the Stark residence in newly cleaned clothes that were void of moisture. They looked presentable enough, Benjen thought. He didn't think he did such a terrible job. Considering he was a bachelor with no daughters of his own, he managed fairly well in the last twenty four hours. The door opened to reveal Ned and Catelyn Stark. Ned smiled in relief. Catelyn came bursting through the threshold to wrap her arms tightly around her daughter.
"Oh Sansa!" she breathed, "Never scare me like that again!"
"We were so worried," Ned said as he cradled her cheek in his hand. He and Catelyn wrapped their arms across her shoulders to guide her inside the house.
"Sorry Father, Mother. I didn't mean to scare everyone."
"I know my dear," Ned murmured as he planted a kiss on the top of her head.
"But Uncle Benjen did take good care of me. And Osha washed my clothes, too."
"Bran! Sansa's home!" Rickon called from the top of the stairs. He came vaulting down the bannister and into his eldest sister's arms. She staggered back with a laugh as she hugged her youngest brother. Bran met Sansa with a tentative smile and a tender hug.
"Come now Miss Stark! It's time to get you cleaned up for dinner!" Old Nan called from the top of the stairs, "I'll prepare a warm bath for you." Catelyn guided her daughter up the stairs, not once letting go of her. Benjen looked at his brother and waited for him to speak.
"I hope she wasn't too much trouble."
"Oh don't be ridiculous Ned," Benjen barked with laughter, "Out of all your children Sansa is the least trouble. She was a fine house guest." Benjen waited for Catelyn and her children to disappear upstairs before speaking again.
"I need to speak to you regarding Sansa."
"Yes. I am sure you have plenty to report."
"You could say that."
"Would you like anything? Perhaps some tea? Or a scotch?"
"Tea would be fine. I'll save the scotch for after dinner."
"I'll have Meera bring it to the study."
"Meera? She's a little young to be working already isn't she?"
"I suppose, but her mother is sick so she decided to fill her post until she recovers. She's a sweet girl and she is learning quickly according to Nan. She brews a fine cup of tea, that's for sure. Shall we?" Ned asked as he gestured towards the study. Benjen nodded. He stepped into the carpeted and quiet room. The windows allowed for soft winter light to filter into the room. There were books on every wall, and a portrait of their father, Rickard Stark. It wasn't as grand as the one in Winterfell, but it was lovely all the same. The fireplace had been lit and a breakfast tray was still on the side table next to one of the arm chairs with a barely eaten breakfast. Benjen guessed Ned had spent every waking hour in this study pacing in front of the phone ever since he left his house yesterday morning with the news that Sansa was missing. He'd probably been here, anxiously looking out the window waiting for her to return to him.
"A lovely selection of Dickens you have here, Ned," Benjen stated as he scanned the titles on the north wall.
"It's not as expansive as yours, I'm afraid," Ned remarked, "though I know I have many more books on history than you do."
"I'm not so sure about that," Benjen teased, "I have one of the greatest selections of military history than anyone on this side of the Atlantic."
"Your pride will get you in trouble one day Ben," Ned stated, almost without humor.
"One day? Ha! It already has! On countless occasions I assure you!" Benjen tried breaking the tension, but he had never been very good at that. Ned was nervous and antsy, pacing the floor in front of the fireplace. Benjen took a breath as he settled into one of the armchairs. Meera came into the room with tea on the tray.
"Ah, thank you Meera," Ned said, "I'll pour the tea thank you. That will be all." She placed the tray on the desk and quickly removed the breakfast tray from that morning before leaving the study with a small bow and closed the door. Ned poured Benjen a cup of tea and handed it to him. He didn't bother pouring himself a cup. Instead he went back to pacing the floor.
"It's hard for me to enjoy such a fine cup of tea with you pacing nervously about like some caged animal."
"Oh, out with it already! You said you had things to say in regards to Sansa."
"I did," Benjen conceded.
"Then tell me!" Ned said impatiently. Benjen held his brother's gaze. He did not stand from his chair. He made no changes to his posture. He was the epitome of calm composure.
"In good time, Ned, but I do believe you should have some tea. Perhaps a sandwich or a cookie that Meera had so nicely arranged on this plate for us. I know you haven't eaten since you found her missing. A bit of food would do you some good." Ned didn't budge.
"Fine," Benjen drawled, "if you aren't going to eat at least have some tea." With a few more suspicious glances towards his brother Ned begrudgingly poured himself a cup of tea. Benjen looked at the chair next to him in front of the fireplace and back to Ned, guiding his brother to relax. Ned sat in the chair slowly, but Benjen could tell the tension remained in every muscle. The man was a bundle of nerves. Benjen supposed if he went through what Ned had gone through he would be a bundle of nerves, too.
"I was as surprised as you when Sansa asked to stay with me last night. I was going to deliver her after breakfast this morning so she could attend mass with you, but she asked to stay through mass as well."
"That is odd."
"I thought so too, till I discovered why," Benjen paused as he took a sip of his tea, "After mass, Sansa visited Lyanna and Regar's graves in the churchyard." Ned gave his brother an inquisitive look.
"She put down a wreath that I can only guess she made up of nettles she found on her morning walk. Osha said she was up long before breakfast was served and said she was going for a quick walk. Does she usually go on walks in the morning?"
"She hasn't been on many walks since Arya left. Since Bran and Rickon returned home she has gone on a few but never before eleven." Benjen mulled over Ned's response as he sipped his tea. He nodded and hummed in understanding.
"What? What is it?" Ned asked impatiently. Benjen looked at his brother, a glint in his eye like he saw something no one else did. It reminded Ned of his son Bran. He seemed to have that look a lot more the older he got. He supposed it was the kind of look men who faced death eventually developed. His poor boy had to face death at a much younger age than he deserved.
"Benjen you know how I hate that silent stare. Just tell me."
"Every Christmas morning after church, Jon and I would walk to the churchyard where his parents are buried. We put a wreath on their graves and Jon will sit and speak to them," Benjen paused as he attempted to calm the emotions stirring within him. Ned watched his brother. He knew what it was to fear for a son.
"Last Christmas we went to Winterfell. Jon, though happy to be with you all, felt…out of place. He always feels that way. Sansa made great efforts to make him feel welcome."
"Yes, I remember their interactions quite well."
"On the way back from Winterfell Jon told me she had made a wreath out of twigs and placed it on a couple's grave in the churchyard. She told Jon that maybe that couple could pass on his message to his parents. It was a very sweet thing for her to do for him."
Ned smiled for the first time in the last two days "That sounds like my Sansa," he murmured.
"Yes, well I believe she decided to take it upon herself to visit Lyanna and Raegar this year on Jon's behalf."
"My girl is too thoughtful for her own good at times," Ned replied with a sigh, "That explains why she insisted on waiting till after church to come home, but that doesn't explain why she went to Winterfell."
"She wanted to be close to Jon. It's the same reason she wanted to stay with me, why she wanted to visit Jon's parents. Winterfell is where it all began for her."
"What began?"
"What Catelyn has been worried about, what you and I have been noticing over the months, and what everyone may already suspect after their display at the train station. It's the big scandal that should be avoided at all costs," Benjen concluded facetiously.
"Scandal—?"
"Jon is of inferior parentage, and he is adopted by a bachelor, no mother at home, a less than traditional upbringing. Sansa is a well-bred lady of good family stock, wealth, and social standing. We don't want to see it that way, and I dare say you and I don't, but everyone else does. " Benjen took a final sip of tea. He got up to place the saucer on the tray. He had every intention of sitting back down, but breaking this news to his brother was proving to be more difficult than he anticipated. He instead decided to remain standing. It was now his turn to pace.
"Ned, your daughter said some things to me in the last couple of days that have me thinking that we were right. Catelyn was definitely right. The feelings between Jon and Sansa over the last year have exceeded that of familial fondness." Benjen stood staring at his brother watching as the realization started making its way across his face.
"Are you saying my daughter is in love with your son?"
"I am," Benjen said, "or at least, her feelings are coming close to that."
"Did she tell you this?"
"No, and I wouldn't expect her to. She is still attempting to hide that from all of us in one way or another. I am not even sure she realizes her feelings have grown to be that deep." Benjen opened his mouth to continue, but hesitated.
"There's more," Ned stated, "I see it on your face, Ben. You might as well tell me."
"The girl is trapped, Ned. She feels helpless. So she ran. She didn't know what else to do. She wanted the feeling to go away."
"I don't understand," Ned said behind his hand, "She's safe here."
"She doesn't want to be safe, Ned. She wants to be useful."
"So what do you reccomend? I allow her to follow in Margery's footsteps? Go be a nurse? Follow Arya to do whatever the devil she's doing?" Ned said as he rose, his voice rising with him.
"Ned—"
"No! I will not allow another child of mine to risk their lives for this damned cause. She must stay here!"
"You can't keep her here!" Benjen stated as he stepped forward to match his brother.
"The hell I can't!"
"She deserves to be free, Ned," Benjen said keeping his voice dangerously low, "if you aren't careful, the closer you and Catelyn keep her to you, the further you will push her away. Allow her some freedom."
"So I should just let her do whatever she pleases, is that it?"
"No. I'm saying if she asks to be useful, let her." Ned took a few breaths processing what his brother was telling him. They stood in front of each other, silent now, and thinking of each other. Ned, wondering if his brother was right, and Ben, hoping his brother saw some sense in his words. Their time was interrupted by a timid knock on the door.
"Enter," Ned called. The brothers turned to see Meera standing in the doorway.
"Dinner is ready sirs," she stammered.
"Thank you Meera," Ned sighed, "we will be there in a moment." Meera bowed and carefully closed the door behind her. Benjen took a few carefully calculated steps back, giving Ned room to process what he had said.
"Just think about it, Ned." Ned nodded his head in resignation. Benjen looked down at the ground. He had a feeling it would be a quiet dinner.
Meera hurried down the hall to alert the rest of the Starks that dinner was ready. She stopped short at the foot of the stairs and gave a yelp of surprise.
"Master Bran!" she chastised, "You gave me a fright!"
"I'm sorry Meera. I didn't mean to startle you." Meera composed herself and gave a clumsy curtsy to the young man. He'd grown much taller since she'd seen him last those years ago. She tried to maintain her footing but stumbled. She braced herself against the wall so as not to tumble over herself onto the floor. Bran suppressed a chuckle as she shot him a glare.
"There's no need to laugh at my misfortune, sir."
"And there's no need for curtsies and calling me Sir, Meera. We're the same age."
"I work for the family. You are the family," she stated awkwardly, but she kept herself from looking away from him. He looked troubled.
"My uncle and Father were arguing," Bran stated.
"I don't know."
"I do. They were speaking quite loudly. It's about Sansa. They are worried about Sansa."
"I don't know," Meera repeated, "I simply make the tea, and announce dinner. I am meant to tell the rest of the family upstairs."
"Don't let me keep you," Bran said with a nod. Meera bowed her head as she made her way up the stairs.
"Meera," Bran said stopping her on the step he sat on. She kept her hands clasped tightly in front of her as she waited.
"Yes, sir?"
'Please don't call me sir," he said. She considered disregarding her instruction. If old Nan heard her being so familiar with one of the family she would get an ear full. But she heard tightness in his voice that made her reconsider.
"Yes? ..Bran?" she said quietly. She stood staring forward towards the hall, not daring to look at the young man. She watched for Old Nan, worried she would appear around the corner.
"I'm worried about Sansa, too." Meera stood still, listening. "She hasn't been the same since they all left. She is sad, I know she is, but she doesn't cry. She just stares. And works. And stares. But she doesn't cry." Meera looked about the stairs, careful not to be seen before she slowly sank down to kneel on the steps. She slowly turned her head to look at Bran, his gaze far off and distant. Meera could see the pain behind the distance.
"She isn't the same, Meera," Bran continued, "Neither are Mother and Father. I just want them back. I want my sister back. Both of them. And Robb. And Jon. Why did this have to happen to us?" Meera watched Bran, his face contorted in perplexed pain. She didn't have anything to say. She didn't know what it was like. Her brother was at home working with her father. He left early in the morning, but he always came back home for dinner. She didn't know what it was like to have half of your family gone and not come back. She stayed silent, but reached out a hand to cover his. She gripped Bran's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He pulled away from his distant place for a moment to look at her. She smiled briefly, as best as she could, and then looked down before releasing his hand and coming back up to standing on the step.
"Dinner is ready, sir," she said in a clear voice, "if you'll excuse me, I must tell the others."
"Thank you Meera," Bran replied as he turned to look back out into the air for a moment. He turned to look after her as Meera climbed the last few steps to the second floor and turned the corner. He slowly stood up to go to dinner. He took his time walking to the dining room. Christmas would not be the same this year. The absences would be overbearing.