Chapter XIV: The Little Dove
She walked towards the Hall with Brienne following her. The Lady of Tarth was unwilling to leave her side after the unexpected arrival of the Hound, and it seemed that Brienne held a grudge of her own against the man, other than that she wanted to protect Sansa.
Sandor kept out of her way, but nevertheless she had felt his eyes on her a few times their paths had coincidentally crossed. She wondered what it'd have been like if she'd have went away with him that night during the Battle of the Blackwater. She wouldn't have been married to Ramsay, and perhaps he could have kept her safer than anyone else could.
He used to call her Little Bird.
But I can no longer fly even if I wanted to.
The Lords bowed when she entered, and she looked up and saw Jon already seated, with Arya to his right. Arya's face revealed nothing, and it was hard to guess what her reaction must have been like when the news of Daenerys Targaryens had reached her ears.
Sansa hadn't spoken with her since she had returned. She wasn't angry with Arya, but she had wanted her to take her help. Jon had told her of his distrust of Littlefinger, and she had heard his unspoken words that he was somewhat distrustful of her as well after what she'd done. By helping Arya take Riverrun, she'd wanted to gain Jon's trust back, and maybe redeem herself in her own eyes. But Arya had unknowingly snatched the opportunity away from her hands. She was proud of her sister, and she was happy that she had been so brave, but Sansa knew that Jon had always had a special place for Arya in his heart, and that she could never do anything that would take her down in his eyes. She wanted Jon to look at her in a similar, if not the same, way. She wanted his trust back, and she wanted him not to remember her lie everytime he looked at her. Helping Arya recapture their mother's home would have done that and more, and yet, she had been forced to realise her sister didn't need her as much as she had thought.
Jon held out his hand for her and she took it, sitting to his left. Arya smiled gently at her. It looked forced but Sansa smiled back, not wanting anyone present to think that they were having problems among themselves.
Ser Davos cleared his throat.
Jon pushed his chair back and stood up, and every voice was shushed.
"Thank you for coming here in such a short notice, My Lords and My Lady." He nodded towards Lyanna Mormont. "There is a very important announcement I have to make. More than a week ago, I received a raven from Tyrion Lannister." There was a brief uproar but one shout from Lyanna Mormont silenced them again. Sansa decided she had never appreciated the girl as much as she deserved.
Jon muttered a small thank you to her and continued,
"He sails across the Narrow Sea with a Targaryen heir Daenerys, who is the daughter of King Aerys and the sister of Princes Rhaegar and Viserys. She is now the widow of a Khal, and has a Dothraki and an Unsullied army following her, and the Houses Tyrell, Martell and Greyjoy. She sails to claim the Iron Throne for her own, and she has asked that I kneel before her."
Angry shouts could be heard, and the group of men yelled murderous curses in fury.
"The King in the North doesn't fear a Southron!"
"The North is ours!"
"Let her come and try to take it!"
Sansa looked worriedly at Jon and just when he looked like he was about to raise his voice, it was Arya who banged her fist hard on the table, and everyone turned to look at her.
"Enough!" She shouted, and set her stone-colored eyes on Jon before looking away. "It was only yesterday that I found out about what is happening on the other side of the Wall. My brother told me of the dead that are rising from the graves. Daenerys Targaryen claims she has dragons, and my brother thinks that these dragons will be the key to our survival. I trust every word of his and if he says these dragons can help us then they can." Her jaw clenched. "But as a Stark, I will not let him kneel before a foreign Queen. Winterfell is ours. We have taken it from our enemies, and we are the only one who get to keep it. The legacy of a free North didn't die with Robb. Let her come and try to make Jon kneel. She will know the wrath of a Stark."
Sansa stayed frozen to her place as the Lords praised Arya loudly, chanting Stark over and over again. Beside her, Jon was looking furious and his hands were clenching the wood of the table so hard he would bruise them.
"What have you done?" He asked Arya, fuming.
"What is right," she replied. "I love you Jon, but forgive me, I cannot do this. This is an insult to Father's memory, and Mother's and Robb's. Tell me one reason why we should trust a Targaryen, Tyrell, Martell or a Greyjoy. A Lannister is even out of the question. I will not let you kneel before her, not if it costs me my life."
Sansa placed a hand over Jon's.
"She is not our enemy," she said aloud, capturing the attention of the men. "When she comes to Winterfell, we will not receive her as such. She will be welcomed and her company fed. She would come in peace, and we will let her stay in peace."
"How do we know she is not here to attack?" One of the Lords asked.
"Because she will not dare to. She would be smarter than that," Sansa replied.
"And if she is not?" Lady Mormont asked with a biting tone.
"Then believe me, Lady Mormont," Arya said before she could. "She wouldn't live long enough to even glance at the Iron Throne she craves for so desperately."
The coldness in her voice managed to cut off any further questions, and Sansa saw Lyanna Mormont grin.
She felt the tension when the three of them were alone, gathered near the fireplace.
Sansa tried to start the conversation, because she knew very well the other two wouldn't. Jon and Arya were even refusing to look at each other.
"Who will accompany the Dragon Queen?" She asked Jon. "We do not have enough provisions for a large number."
"Tyrion Lannister and her army of Unsullied. The rest will remain at Highgarden with Lady Olenna."
The mention of Highgarden almost brought tears to her eyes. Margaery had been her only true friend in the capital, almost like a sister. And Cersei had killed her, and her brother Loras whom Sansa had once admired. Margaery had been so kind to her, and had saved her from marrying Joffrey. And after Tommen had become King, maybe there was a chance for Margaery to be truly happy. But Cersei had always despised anyone who tried to take the Throne, and she had killed her own good daughter, and burned a Sept that had been constructed decades before her birth, a place that held legacies.
And yet it took only wildfire, to burn legacies to the ground. And a mad woman who wanted to be Queen.
"So now we'll have to entertain Lannisters in Winterfell?" Arya asked sarcastically. "An imp at that?"
"What do you propose we do then?" Jon asked, his voice rising.
Arya pursed her lips in disapproval.
"Don't you dare speak to me in that way, Jon. I am not the one who is having trouble remembering here. Have you forgotten that a Targaryen killed our uncle and grandfather, and another one raped our aunt? And since when are Tyrells and Martells and Greyjoys our allies? Have you forgotten what Theon did to Robb? And don't even get me started on the Lannisters. The imp killed his own father, and you want me to smile at him and offer curtseys?"
"Theon might be guilty of betraying Robb," Sansa defended him. "But trust my words, he has suffered for that and more. And if it wasn't for him, I would still have been under Ramsay's mercy. He has paid. Believe me."
Arya was staring at her intently, then she surprisingly dropped the subject. Sansa thought of defending Tyrion too, and Lady Olenna, but she kept her mouth shut fearing she'd say too much. The two families were Stark enemies as far as anyone was concerned, and perhaps it would do good to let Jon and Arya be the judge of Tyrion's character. She knew Jon wasn't repulsed by him, but Arya seemed to cringe at the very mention of the word Lannister. She couldn't blame her, but Tyrion was different. He always had been. And even though he had committed the gravest crime by kinslaying, Sansa knew he must have had his reasons. Tyrion Lannister was many things, but never unreasonable.
"You have not seen the monsters I've seen Arya. If there is a way to defeat them, why wouldn't you let me follow it?" Jon asked.
"What does this Daenerys know of the North? What does she know of winter? Starks and Mormonts and Glovers and Karstarks, we have been here since before any of her kin set foot on Westeros. Winterfell is yours, Jon. You deserve it, and not her. I am only doing this for you." She paused for a second. "Don't you remember what happened the last time a Southron King came to Winterfell? It's not my fault if I fear for you."
It ripped apart our family, Sansa thought. It destroyed our happiness.
"She is coming anyway," Jon said. "Promise me you will not do anything rash, Arya. I will not kneel if you don't want me to, I swear it. But we have to find a solution, and it cannot be found if she thinks we do not respect her. Not every battle is won by anger, little sister."
Arya stood up, and lowered her eyes to look at him.
"I will not promise, but I will try my best."
She placed her hand on Jon's cheek, and he let out a soft breath. Sansa kept her eyes on Jon as he watched Arya walk away, his gaze never wavering. They never used to have such differences in opinions when they were younger. They used to finish each other's sentences, and laugh at jokes without even saying them aloud.
"Do you miss how she used to be?" Sansa asked.
Jon shook his head.
"I love her as she is. I always will. But sometimes when I look at her, I only see hate and anger, and she is so different now, so grown and wise, and it feels like she understands things more than we ever could. She grew up too fast."
"Didn't we all?" Sansa thought of the days back when all she wanted was to fall in love and marry a Knight or a Prince and have him crown her the Queen of Love and Beauty. And those dreams of that little girl never came true. And no Knight came for her, but a Prince who was abusive and cruel and evil. And she realized that while dreams felt so long during sleep, it took only a fleeting moment for them to shatter in pieces.
"Did you mean when you said you wouldn't kneel?" She asked.
Jon looked at her like she had thrust a dagger in him instead.
"I swore to her. I wouldn't take my words back even if I have to die for it."
"And what do you think the Dragon Queen will demand in return for her help against the White Walkers?"
"I don't know," be confessed. "But for now, I hope Arya doesn't put a knife in her the moment she arrives."
Sansa nodded. She didn't have an answer to that. And truthfully, she hoped for that too.