Sansa washes herself over the basin and then sends for her maid. While she waits, she straightens the bedclothes and bolsters and smooths down the furs that cover it.
"Milady," the girl enters.
She smiles at her. "We have guests in the castle. I needs help with my hair; and I'd like to wear my new gown," she tells her. She instructs the girl to make a series of small braids from her forehead to the top of her head and to leave the rest in a straight fall. Then she helps her to don fresh smallclothes, stockings and an underskirt of grey wool; then she laces Sansa into a gown of deep blue wool with a wide, high neckline trimmed with grey embroidery that runs down the tight sleeves. She finishes with the wide silver cuff the Greatjon had brought her from White Harbor after Eddard had been born, and after she had begun to share his bed. She looks at the cuff encircling her wrist and ponders what must have been the reason for his many gifts.
He must not have wanted to marry again; and so gave me gifts instead of himself. I much prefer having his affections.
"Have the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and his men been shown to their chambers?" she asks the girl as she stands from her dressing table.
"There be only one other Black Brother with the Lord Commander this time, milady; and they's in the solar with Lord Umber and Lord Jon both," she tells Sansa. "They say the Lord Commander needed speak urgently with Lord Umber straight away."
Sansa wonders what could possibly have been so important that the men should want to speak directly after arriving at the castle; and she recalls that only Samwell Tarly was to leave Jon's company at Winterfell; but the girl knows nothing more than she has already told her lady. "Very well, I shall join them in the solar. I thank you for your assistance."
She studies her appearance once more before the looking glass before turning to leave. As she enters the hallway, she can already hear voices, and she thinks her husband must be exulting in seeing his son and heir again and to have news of King Robb. But once she is nearer, it is clear that their voices are raised in anger: they are arguing loudly, and the loudest shouting voice is that of the Greatjon.
"Gods be true, boy, how could you have done this terrible thing?"
"Father, listen to me: I-"
"I'll hear no more from you, Smalljon! I'm betrayed: that's what this is! BETRAYED, DO YOU HEAR ME? BY STARK AND UMBER BOTH!"
Sansa stops stock-still in the hallway, not steps from the solar, with her heart in her throat.
No. Please no. He knows.
Bile rises in her gorge suddenly, and she turns back to her chamber at a run with her skirts lifted. She continues running straight to the privy where she retches noisily but brings up only liquid since she did not eat at midday. Her heart pounds now as she stumbles back into her chambers and looks around in panic.
I'm trapped, she thinks. I should have run outside, into the yard and outside the gates. I should have run and run until I fell and froze and died. Oh gods, he will hate me! I cannot bear to see it.
She runs to the window now and pushes the shutters open with a bang and looks out over the edge. But there is fresh snow piled high beneath her and all she can think is: it is not high enough, it will not kill me. She had thought to throw herself from a window once, in King's Landing, after they had taken her father's head. She had wanted to die so that the singers would sing of her youth and her despair and of how she had been betrayed by those she had loved and trusted. But she is the betrayer this time; and no one would sing songs for her. They would be more like to curse her.
The tower.
Yes, that was right: the place of her betrayal. She would fling herself from the North tower to show her shame and her regret, just as Lady Ashara Dayne had thrown herself into the sea from the Palestone Sword tower at Starfall.
My children. Sansa shakes now to think of her children and their shame when they are old enough to learn that their mother had betrayed their father and killed herself. She prays that her husband will not punish them, that he will continue to love them, and to believe that they are his. He must know, surely he must know they are his. Young Eddard. Serena, my little bird… A sob rises in her throat.
The door opens behind her and she jumps, startled; and she turns to see him standing there. Her husband looks weary and downcast and defeated; but still he fills the doorway, and he is looking at her, unblinking, and he moves forward and shuts the door firmly behind him.
Sansa's heart begins to beat frantically. "M-my lord," she stutters now.
When he does not reply but only continues to look at her, she feels fearful. "H-have the men of the Night's Watch b-been shown to their rooms?" she asks stupidly. "Shall I send for-"
"Sit down, Sansa," he says quietly.
She walks haltingly and then sits awkwardly on the end of their bed. Her hands shake so badly that she needs clutch them together tightly. Her husband continues to stand near the door.
I cannot escape now, she thinks; and realizes that she must face his wrath and his punishment and his inevitable hatred. But right now he only looks sad.
"Sansa," he begins, and falters and so runs a hand through his thick greying hair. He is not looking at her anymore. "Sansa, you needs call your maid and pack your belongings. I am sending you home to Winterfell," he tells her firmly.
No. No, gods: I'd rather be dead than face them all. Mother. Robb. Old Nan even. They will hate me even more.
Sansa shakes her head: she cannot help it. "No, please, I- I don't want to go."
Though he is not looking and does not see her, he also shakes his head "There is no other way, Sansa-" he begins.
"Please," she implores him, "please, my lord, I beg you: do not send me back to my family! I will be a good wife, a…a better wife, I promise. I know that I have done you ill-" she stops short, knowing her words are stupidly inadequate. Ill? You wretched girl: you betrayed him with his own son! Tears spring into her eyes and she is prepared to beg, to plead mercy and tell him that he can chastise her, beat her, lock her in a chamber or a cell even; anything but send her back to Winterfell. But he looks at her now and suddenly moves towards her with his hands reaching out. Sansa's eyes widen in terror. He means to kill me; to break my neck. But his great hands settle gently on her shoulders and he looks at her with grave concern.
"Calm yourself now, Sansa. You will see that this is the right thing," he tells her.
Sansa tries to quiet herself but she sobs in steady hiccups and pleads once more: "Please, my lord husband, do not send me back to Winterfell in disgrace; they already hate me so."
The Greatjon looks at with astonishment and leans in closer to her, his worry turning to fear. He thinks me mad; and perhaps I am now.
"Sansa," he breathes out in shock, "do you think I mean to forswear you…to send you away for suffering the accident that lost us our child? Do you think so meanly of me…after all we have been together? And why should your family hate you? Everyone loves you, Sansa."
"No, no it was all my- my fault, you see," she sobs, "I defied my father, and so the queen had him seized and made me write a letter to Robb but then Joffrey took his he-he-head. I just stood there and smiled at my fa-fa-father because I thought it would all be as it was supposed to be: my father would confe-fe-fess and Joffrey would show him mercy, and send him to the Wall. But he called for his head! I called for them to stop; I screamed and screamed and pleaded for them to please stop!"
"Sh, sh, Sansa: no. It was not your fault. Did no one tell you? Renly sent King Robb word of all they had discovered. It was that devil Littlefinger that started it all: had Jon Aryn poisoned by his own wife and claim it was the Lannisters. Told your father that the city watch would support him if he challenged Joffrey's right to sit the throne after Robert's death, but they were in his power; then he told that bastard Joffrey that he'd get more respect as a boy-king if he were unforgiving. He told him that showing mercy would make him seem a green boy but calling for a traitor's head would make him look strong."
"But-but- I wrote the letter they sent by raven and Robb called the buh-buh-banners."
He sits down beside her now, and keeps a great hand on her shoulder comfortingly. He looks at her steadily but his brow is still furrowed in concern as he tries to explain.
"Aye, you wrote it, but we all knew those were the queen's words you wrote. We marched to fight the Lannisters, and to free your father and his daughters from Kings Landing. No one thought you were to blame. Here now," he takes her face in his hands and looks closely at her, at her forlorn expression and tear-filled eyes. "You've never spoken of Kings Landing before; we all thought you would want to forget," he tells her and he drops his voice gently. "Was it very bad, Sansa? Would you speak of it now?"
Sansa's lip quivers and she sobs out loud, a great wrenching cry of anguish and grief released; and he hold his strong arms out to her and she huddles shakily into the safe refuge of his shaggy furs and broad chest. She curls up and clings to him just as Serena does when she cries.
Sansa shuts her eyes tightly and begins to tell him of the day she went to the queen to ask to be allowed to stay in King's Landing, instead of being sent back to Winterfell as her father had ordered. She tells how she was locked in a room, first by herself and then with Jeyne Poole who told her that her father's people were all being killed; and then of being brought before the queen and told that her father was a traitor. She tells him of the letter she was told to write to Robb, and how she had still wanted to be Joffrey's queen. She tells him of how people shunned her at court when she knelt before Joffrey to plead for her father's life and how he promised mercy. She begins to sob loudly again as she recounts the day on the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor, and how she watched as the Kingsguard threw her father down and Ser Ilyn swung Ice to sever her father's head and how his legs had kicked like a frog's when he died. She tells him of how Joffrey first had her beaten when she had told him that she hated him; and how he kept having her beaten, though she paid him court and acted the part of his lady love. She tells him of the Bread Riots and the enraged mob that tried to pull her from her horse. She tells him how Cersei said she must still be Joffrey's queen and suffer his humiliations and how, when Renly's army surrounded the capitol, the queen had told her that she would die like her father and lose her head to Ilyn Payne's sword so that their loss would not be a Stark victory. Finally she tells him how she had hid in her room and Sandor Clegane had come and she had thought he was sent to kill her but instead he protected her and stood guard by her door though he could have fled, and saw that she got safely to Renly and that Renly understood that she was a prisoner, and not a party to the Lannisters' crimes. And throughout her terrible recital, her husband holds her close and strokes her hair and speaks quietly to her:
"That's it, you have it out; cry it all out now, Sansa. It's done now; it's over. They can't hurt you anymore."
Still she shakes and cries and tells him more: "He told him, Sandor Clegane told him, he told Renly to send me home. I wanted to go home, to return to Winterfell. But then I saw that my family did not want me."
"Sansa? Have you carried this with you all this time?" he asks her incredulously. "Did you really believe that we all blamed you for your father's beheading and for the war, and that we hated you for it?" His eyes widen as though a truth has just come to him. "Oh gods be good," he murmurs to himself now. "You thought this was a punishment…being sent so far away to Last Hearth." He makes no mention of their marriage but he looks saddened and shakes his great head. "We thought we were protecting you, Sansa; we didn't know what you had suffered in Kings Landing with the Lannisters, but we suspected it was terrible. Your family wanted you as far from the South and from Southron memories as we could bring you…any further North and we'd have had to hand you over to the wildlings," he laughs hollowly, and his countenance darkens and his eyes are hard.
"I told them; I tried to tell them, Sansa, truly I did: to let you decide what you wanted, to let you tell them the truth about what happened-" he stops talking now.
Sansa looks up at him curiously, her face stained with her tears.
"The truth about…about what happened in King's Landing? I don't understand…how would that change…how would it change how my family felt, or whether I came to Last Hearth? I did not know the real truth of what had happened."
He is thinking to himself, she can tell, and he takes a deep breath before deciding to continue.
"It was that Greyjoy whelp who caused it all. I'm certain of it," he says bitterly.
"Theon? I- I don't under-"
"There were rumors, Sansa, about what might have happened to you in King's Landing: crude rumors saying that you were like to have been despoiled by Joffrey and his men, or Renly's soldiers when they took the castle. A lion's leavings, and worse, some had the gall to call you; though never where the king could hear them. Still, he heard…as did your mother."
He looks down at her and sees that she is still bemused and so he explains.
"I could never prove Greyjoy started the rumors but he did look to benefit from them. He had nothing, you know: I told you how he lost everything he had in the North and on Pyke. Well, he went to the king and told him he had heard of your…misfortune, he called it; and I could see some of your brother's own men smirking. Then he grandly says he'll take you anyway, as his lady; like he'd be bestowing a great favor on you, Sansa. But he knew if you were wed to him that Robb would needs give him lands and a castle, to keep you in a manner befitting the sister of the King in the North. I could see your lady mother was sore grieved, so much that she looked be considering the little shit's offer. I was in a fury, I tell you. A Northern Princess belongs with a Northerner, so we'll hear no more about our King's lady sister from you, Greyjoy, I bellowed and he cowered, though he kept his smirk. Besides, an Umber girl was taken off our lands, Mors' girl she was: the wildlings carried her off. It was no fault of her own," he tells her gently but she can see that he is angry. "I knew whatever had happened to you, Sansa; it was no fault of your own." He brushes his hand softly down her cheek; then he sighs and speaks again.
"Well…once he'd gone, King Robb asked if I'd have you. I thought surely he was jesting: I'm a man of an age with your own father, I told him; and they'd no proof you had been…that you weren't a maiden any longer. But he said that true or not, people believed what they heard; and that no man would agree to wed you to his heir. And if it was true, well," he says ponderously, "I already had heirs, and we would live far away so as not to expose you to ugly talk. No man would dare insult my lady wife, or question the legitimacy of any children; not if he valued his life," he nods now. "The king said that he knew that I could protect you and keep you safe so you'd never needs fear being harmed again And I would be nothing like your pretty prince or any Southron knight…well," he laughs shortly, "he had me there: there is no one less like that than me, Sansa." He looks down to her now.
And Sansa just stares at him, and is dumbfounded.