The sun was rising in the sky as Sansa crept out of her room, the wooden floor creaking beneath her feet. The Keep was silent, the other occupants most likely still caught in the embrace of sleep. She was lucky to have found the opportunity to steal some time for herself. The idea of fresh air was appealing to her, so she quietly made her way down the steps, to the longhall, before silently slipping out of the doors. It was strange that there wasn't a soul in sight. The air was cool and breezy, courtesy of Mormont Keep being located in the middle of the sea.

Sansa wondered if she would spot any of the bears that Bear Island was named for. Perhaps not so close to the Keep. Madness in her head, she wandered towards the forest. She walked deeper and deeper stepping over twisted roots and gnarled trees, until she was lost in the unfamiliar land, but she found herself unable to turn back.

Suddenly a movement out of the corner of her eyes caused her breath to catch. Sansa spun around, her heart beating wildly. "Who goes there?" she demanded. "Show yourself!"

When her command was answered, she wished that it hadn't been. Bolton men. Dozens upon dozens. They stepped out from behind the trees until it seemed that the whole forest was infested with them.

Sansa was nearly mad with fear. They would overpower the Keep. They would steal her away and slaughter everyone! The scream tore from her lungs as she ran back in the direction that she had come from. She hadn't gone far before they seized her. But she clawed at them, while she kicked and screamed with all of her might. The forest seemed to swallow her screams and render them useless, but that only made her scream louder.

Suddenly she felt herself being shaken fiercely. She wondered if one of the men had grabbed her and was shaking her to cease her screaming, but when she tried to jerk away she realized that no one was holding her. She tried to run but the quivering had worsened. The very earth was trembling beneath her feet! Sansa let out another shriek of terror as she tried to withstand the quaking and run. Is Jon okay? She wondered desperately. Does he know there's an earthquake? As if her mind had conjured him up, she saw a figure lying a few feet ahead of her.

Jon! she thought, and her heart lurched. Had he come looking for her? The ground was vibrating terribly but she had to get to him. She attempted to run over to where he lay, falling twice and struggling back to her feet until she reached his side. She shook him frantically, only ceasing when his eyes opened. Sansa tried to scream at him to get up and run but she was mute. So she grabbed his hand and pulled him up. But when he rose his face seemed to transform in front of her eyes. Familiar grey irises turned to a piercing pale blue that held the promise of pain and suddenly Sansa was screaming and falling as the earth spun out of control.

"My lady!" she heard, and her eyes popped open, just as the hand that was shaking her retreated. Sansa realized that she lay in bed, drenched in cold sweat, her body still fighting off trembles.

"My lady, are you alright?" Concerned faces were hovering over her. "You were screaming and flailing in your sleep. It took a while to wake you."

"Where's Jon?" she cried out, still delirious from sleep, and panicked from her night terror.

"He's asleep, my lady."

Sansa sighed and took a few calming breaths as she sank back into the pillows. She doubted sleep would visit her again tonight. After feigning sleep for a few minutes, the gathering in her room slowly dispersed until she was left alone once again to face her monster. She tried to keep her eyes open as long as possible until sleep finally claimed her.

Little Lyanna was enamored with Jon. Sansa noticed that as soon as she made her way into the hall to break her fast the following morning. Once she moved past her suspicions of the newcomers, the little lady immediately warmed up to Jon and took his word for truth. Sansa also noted that she was late, as everyone else was already gathered and eating heartily. But that was to be expected after her night terrors. It had taken her a while to fall back to sleep and Sansa had even considered eating in her chamber but had dismissed the idea. She didn't want the Mormonts to think that she found their company anything less than pleasant.

"Jon Snow will win back Winterfell from the filthy Boltons. He will crush them like ants and he will rule the North fair and just," Lyanna Mormont declared to everyone gathered at the table.

Sansa raised an amused eyebrow but she remained silent.

"My men have been rallied. They are prepared from their extensive training. With Mormont men on your side, the battle shall be won. Fear not," Lyanna later reassured everyone as the men engaged in sparring in the training yard, expertly wielding their tourney swords. She took her position as Lady of Bear Island very seriously, and often had a practice sword in hand as she sparred enthusiastically with her men to provide them encouragement.

The little bear was bound to be a warrior, Sansa could see. It was in her blood. The Mormonts had been fierce and proud warriors sworn to the Starks for a thousand years. As she watched the enthusiastic sparring in front of her, her mind saw a little girl with a long solemn face, her chin jutted out in determination. And when she turned, her eyes were the dark grey of the Starks. Like Father's and Jon's.

Sansa shook her head to clear it, and when she looked again, it was just Lyanna sparring with her men.

They resumed their traveling two days later, and although it had been nice to take a break from the elements and have access to a proper bath and bed for a few days, Sansa was immensely grateful to be back on track. She doubted that Ramsay was sitting idly around. His toys had been taken away and he would do anything to get them back.

With the close proximity of Deepwood Motte to Bear Island, they arrived at their destination within ten days. Deepwood Motte was the ancestral home of House Glover, ruled by its current lord, Robett Glover. Lord Glover held audience with them a few feet away from the gates. The fact that he hadn't invited them in was discouraging. Their attempt to parley fell on deaf ears once Lord Glover realized that the majority of their fighting men would be made up of wildlings. He instantly dismissed them, regardless of Jon's pleas to reconsider, and walked back to his castle.

Sansa immediately heard her own voice ringing out, "I would remind you that House Glover is pledged to House Stark. Sworn to answer when called upon!" Her voice was sharp and the air itself seemed to inhale as everyone froze around her.

Lord Glover turned around and made his way back down the steps.

Sansa lifted her head high as he advanced towards her, refusing to back down or retract her words.

He stopped directly in front of her, his proximity unnerving, but she held her ground, maintaining eye contact as his eyes bore into hers. "Yes, my family served House Stark for centuries. We wept when we heard of your father's death. When my brother was lord of this castle he answered Robb's call and hailed him 'King in the North!'" Lord Glover took a step closer, forcing her to acknowledge his words and his pain. "And where was King Robb when the Ironborn attacked this castle? When they threw my wife and children in prison? And brutalized and killed our subjects? Taking up with a foreign whore, getting himself and those who followed him killed."

The Lord of Deepwood Motte stepped back, his gaze raking over both siblings. "I served House Stark once… but House Stark is dead."

Sansa felt the weight of the rejection settle into her as he turned away and returned to his castle.

The door of the Deepwood Motte slammed shut behind Lord Glover's back and the loud clang rang through the air as if drilling the finality of his decision into her head.

The North Remembers.

Father was right. And yet he couldn't have foretold what the North would be forced to endure. And what the North would be forced to remember.