Sansa II
Best of Friends

"She's so darling," Jeyne cooed crouching down to pet the squirming pup in my arms. Father had just given me this direwolf pup after finding a litter of them in the forest. There were six of them in total, one for each of Eddard Stark's children, including the bastard. I was given one of the females of the litter while Arya had been given the other. My pup was a stormy grey color with beautiful golden eyes. "What's her name?" Jeyne asked.

"She doesn't have one," I told her. I had yet to come up with something appropriate. My siblings had already named their direwolves. Robb's was Greywind, Arya's Nymeria, Bran's Summer, Rickon named his, simply enough, Shaggy Dog, and then there was Ghost the runt of the litter that Jon Snow received. I suppose it was a fitting, Ghost was the only one out of the litter than was pure white, what better to match the name Snow.

"She has to have a name," the girl persisted while I stepped aside her to let the pup run around.

We were in my bedchambers, a place we often retreated to 'play' . Jeyne was the only one who ever played, while I sat and read by the fireplace. We had worked out an arrangement years ago and Jeyne never seemed to mind it. She was allowed to play with all my dolls that went untouched by me. Why my parents kept insisting on buying me dolls, I'd never know. I had stopped playing with them as soon as I had learned to read the common tongue. From that moment on, I always had a book on hand or close by.

I sat down by the hearth and picked up one the tomes on the table there. Jeyne still stood there waiting for me to respond. She had her small hands on the hips of her grey dress and her dark eyes were steely, determined. She wasn't going to let this go. "Alright, then Bones," I said.

"Bones?" Jeyne made a face. "You can't call her Bones."

"Why not? She's my pup. Besides, she seems to like them."

"But that's the name of a boy dog," she argued. "She's a girl. And a direwolf, not some mutt the groundskeeper feeds with kitchen slops. She's the sigil of House Stark and she should have a name befitting a highborn lady—Oh! I know, what if you called her Lady?"

"Lady?" I thought about it. It had potential. It was short. Good for training. Plus it had the added benefit of shutting Jeyne up for the time being. "Alright. That's a better name than Shaggy Dog," I said.

Jeyne beamed widely and I looked away to open my book. You might think that I loathed Jeyne's company, truly I wouldn't blame you, considering how I often think of her. But she's never done me any ill will. I didn't hate her personally. I simply despise children; the irony isn't lost on me having admitted that. My parents tried to force other playmates on me before, however, they were all twice as insufferable as Jeyne. At least Jeyne knew when to speak and when to leave me alone. It made her tolerable, and on the best days, I may be inclined to say I had some affection for her.

"Have you heard the news?"

Of course, that affection quickly ends as soon as she opens her mouth. "What news?"

"You haven't heard?"

There were times it was difficult for me not to look at her like she was stupid. This was one of those times. "I guess not," I said.

"Derek, the kitchen boy, told me that the King is riding for Winterfell," she said as she crossed the room and sat beside me, uninvited. I tried not to let my annoyance show on my face. "He says that Lady Stark is all in a fuss preparing some huge feast."

"Why?"

"For the King and Queen," she said. "I heard he's coming with his entire family. That includes the Princes, Joffery and Tommen, and Princess Myrcella as well as the Queen's brothers."

She misunderstood my question. "No, why is King Robert coming to Winterfell specifically?"

"Oh," Jeyne's expression changed and she frowned, "Jon Aryn died."

"He did? How?"

Jeyne shrugged. "I don't know. He was old," she said.

"What about my aunt Lysa? Is she coming too now that her husband is dead? And is she bringing Robin?"

"Sorry," Jeyne shook her head, "I haven't heard anything about them."

Jon Aryn had been the Hand of the King. In medieval-speak, that meant that he was the one to run the country while King Robert Baratheon drank and whored himself to an early grave. If he died and King Robert decided to come to Winterfell all the way from the capital of King's Landing, then that would mean he is going to ask my father to be his new Hand. King Robert and Eddard Stark had history together. They fought side by side in the Battle of the Trident; went to war to save my aunt Lyanna from Prince Rhaegar. They would've been brothers by marriage had Lyanna not died during Robert's Rebellion. There's no way my father would decline the King's request, not that he could even if he wanted to, and he wouldn't want to not if his friend needed him.

"This will change things."

"How so?" Jeyne looked at me curiously.

"Think Jeyne," I told her. "Why would the King come all this way from King's Landing with such a large entourage after Jon Ayrn died?"

"Well, both King Robert and Lord Stark were Jon Aryn's wards. They were close to the man and—"

I sighed. She really is slow, isn't she? "No, Jeyne. Think." I fixed her with a look and her expression twisted up as she pondered it out. It felt like it took her at least five minutes before realization dawned on her and she gasped.

"The King wants to ask Lord Stark to become the new Hand!"

I nodded.

"But then what would that mean?" She wondered. "Are you going back to King's Landing too?"

"It's possible. Very likely, in fact." If Prince Joffrey is coming, then it's very likely that King Robert has plans to propose a betrothal between House Stark and House Baratheon. Since I'm the eldest daughter, I would likely be the one being sold off. If betrothed to Joffrey Baratheon, I'd have to leave for King's Landing, there's no other choice.

"But you can't leave!" Jeyne looked at me with misty brown eyes. "If you leave, then-then what would happen to us?"

"I don't know," I said because I truly didn't know. "We can send ravens."

The girl's expression turned from sadness to anger at my flat tone. "How are you so calm about this? Why aren't you upset? You're going to be leaving Winterfell! Your home."

"And what? It's not like I'd miss anything here."

"Ugh! You're unbelievable!" Jeyne stood up angrily and stomped across my chambers to the door.

"Wait. Why are you so upset?" I asked.

She whirled around, her black braids swing violently, and fixed me with a withering glare. "You know Sansa, sometimes you're a really horrible person."

What is that supposed to mean? She's saying it like I don't already know that. I didn't have the chance to say anything more before she opened the door and slammed it behind her. Teenage girls are so damn dramatic.

Lady whined at me. "Oh, don't get me that look," I said. The last thing I need is judgment from a dog.