All of the platters and plates are cleared, while all of the goblets and tankards are kept in hand. The servants and soldiers help to push the tables against the walls and leave the benches to run around the outside. As the musicians move forward, Sansa and the Greatjon settle side-by-side on one bench with their children; she reaches for his hand to hold and smiles excitedly at the prospect of dancing again. She has not danced since before she fell and lost her babe, and she pushes from her mind the memory that she had then loved her husband's son and not him. She is happy now with her husband; and his son is married and has returned home with his young bride. The Greatjon smiles back at her with his warm and twinkling eyes, and he pats her hand with his free hand, leaving it there over hers.
The pipes and fiddles and drums begin their music, and Smalljon and his Lyanna begin their dance. They stand and join hands, and then turn away and step away before turning back to each other. Lyanna smiles radiantly; her husband is serious. He was never a good dancer, and so he needed think hard to remember the proper steps. After coming together and turning away and coming together again, others stand to join them in the dance.
Sansa rises when the Greatjon squeezes her hand, and she hurries to take their places in the figures of the reel. She curtseys as he bows and they stretch their hands out to each other before whirling together and stepping back towards their places again. They clap as Lord Jon and Lyanna hold hands and sashay down the center of the row and back again, and then come together to whirl again. Her husband is soon red in the face and coughing but he smiles and whoops as the drums beat louder and the pipers and fiddlers pick up their tempo. He stomps his foot along to the beat of the drums and Sansa feels his enthusiasm and her heart swells to see him so happy and acting the lord of the castle as everyone enjoys the celebrations. When they come together in the dance again, she hops up impulsively to kiss his cheek and he responds by grabbing her around the waist and spinning her around in his arms as he gives a crowing whoop with his head thrown back. The other dancers step back to let them spins and twirl together in the center of the floor, and those sitting on the benches cheer and applaud them. Eddard and Serena run up to clap along with the others and Lady Lyanna giggles happily and adds her voice to the encouragement; only Lord Jon remains unmoved, Sansa notices and so she winks to her husband and steps back to spin away from him and then takes a soldier by the arm to re-form the figure of the reel. The Greatjon takes the soldier's partner by the hand and leads her in the renewed group dancing.
As they change partners in the dance, Sansa finds herself face-to-face with Lord Jon. She smiles bravely and opens her arms to him so that he may take her through the movements of the reel; but he holds her tightly and stares directly into her face as she averts her eyes.
"You can still command all of the admiration in the castle for your dancing, my lady," he observes neutrally.
"I thank you, Lord Jon; and I hope that you and your wife are enjoying the celebrations," she says formally, "your father is so very happy to see you settled-"
"-with a Northern girl from an old house to produce heirs for the Umber line, as he has always wished, my lady," he finishes archly.
"Your father has always wished for your happiness…and I hope you believe that I wish you the same," she intones quietly and sincerely.
He continues to stare levelly at her even as she turns away from him and back into his arms.
"I have done, and will do my duty to my family in marriage, my lady," he says as she turns away, "as you have done," he adds when she turns back to him.
She is left pondering his cryptic meaning as she steps away from him and to her next partner, and she smiles at the man, though he steps on her feet as soon as he draws her close.
The dancing continues and becomes ever more lively as people avail themselves of more wine and ale; and Sansa feels her face redden from the wine she is drinking and from the heat of the Great Hall and the many fires. She sees her children dancing: Serena dances daintily and gracefully with a red-haired garrison soldier, the former stable boy who had volunteered to fight beyond the Wall; and young Eddard takes his turn with many of the young girls, including some of the wildlings. Sansa smiles, and feels giddy and proud and happier than she has felt since returning to Last Hearth. She sees the Greatjon standing on the opposite side of the hall. He has been watching her, she can tell by his smile; and so she hurries over to him with her arms outstretched and he meets her halfway to take her in his arms and dance with her again.
"You are even more beautiful when you dance, Sansa,' he says as he looks at her proudly and admiringly.
Sansa ducks her head and blushes. "Thank you, my lord. It is a wonderful feast, is it not?"
"It is…you are flush from wine, my Sansa," he laughs softly as he holds her. She likes how she feels in his arms: warm and safe and happy; and she can feel the heat in her face and the brightness of her own joyous smile.
"I do not need wine to enjoy dancing with you, my lord," she tells him as she looks up at him. "But I fear that I have had more than my fill of Arbor gold," she almost giggles now. Then she feels a tug on her gown.
"Pardon, Lady Greatjon but I can't find Gretel," the wildling girl Ivy looks up at her.
"Blast, girl," the Greatjon thunders, "she can't go far with the watch keeping guard. Leave us to dance together."
But Sansa sees Ivy's concern, and she knows Gretel's fears. "Please, my lord, I would help Ivy in her search: the child is fearful, and mayhaps all the noise and people in one place frightened her," she implores him.
The Greatjon nods easily. "Very well, Sansa: far be it from me to curb your kindness. Go on, girl, but bring me back my lady!"
"I will Lord Greatjon. Come Lady Greatjon," she pulls Sansa by the hand.
"Where do you mean to look first, Ivy?" she asks the girl as she fairly drags Sansa from the Great Hall.
"The same place as before first; then everywhere else," the girl explains reasonably.
Sansa follows her to the alcove in the hallway on an upper floor of the castle. She looks around for a torch or lamp in the darkness of the hallway, but they are still rationing and so she finds none. Ivy runs ahead stealthily when she sees the glow of light from the alcove and then stops short suddenly. When Sansa catches up to her, she sees what Ivy sees.
Deep inside the alcove there is a lamp on the floor, and behind it against the wall is a couple locked together in passion: Lord Jon and Willow, the wildling woman. They can hear their grunting even over the distant sound of the music from the hall. He has her pressed against the wall and holds her legs open with his hands beneath her knees. As he once did with me. Sansa's heart stops and she feels a strong urge to regurgitate and spill all the wine she drank at the feast; but before her Ivy steps forward and so she reaches to clamp her hand over the girl's mouth. Ivy looks to her suddenly and Sansa shakes her head vigorously before drawing the girl back into the darkness of the corridor. When she pulls Ivy away, she kneels before her and puts her finger to her own lips to warn her to be quiet; then she takes her hand and lifts her skirts so that they can hurry away. Once they return to the ground floor outside the Great Hall, Sansa finally stops hurrying, but her heart is pounding and she still feels sick.
"Lady Greatjon," Ivy pants, "why are you stopping? You need to tell the girl he married and brought here. I heard that girls from Bear Island can fight like men do," she observes practically. "Does she have a dagger, or will she club him?"
"Ivy, I am not going to tell her what we have seen, and nor will you. I am here to ensure that she does not find out what her husband is doing. She would be very hurt, Ivy; she is only just married and she cares for him."
"But he's fucking another-"
"Ivy, if you would speak with me you must not use such language," she tells the girl but without conviction.
Is that not what they were doing then; and he with me? How many others have there been? Did he ever truly love me, or was I a fool?
"But a wildling woman-" the girl begins stubbornly.
"Lady Lyanna is not a wildling woman, Ivy: she is a lady from an old house. It is her duty to be married and to have children and to run a castle for her lord one day. If she is not happy then she must suffer silently; but I will not be the one to make her unhappy….life may do that very well to her without our help," he tells her bluntly.
"But doesn't a lady have any power? I thought you were important," the girl asks her now.
Sansa sighs as she kneels before her, and she reaches to push the small girl's hair back from her face. "A high-born lady can be important, Ivy. Lady Lyanna's own mother is the Lady of Bear Island, and her oldest sister will follow after her; but that is not often the case. Many of us must marry where we are told, by our fathers or our brothers or even a king-" She swallows to remember her own disappointment at her betrothal, long ago when she did not understand the reason why; and to remember Cersei's bitter words about being sold like a horse. "We are property, Ivy; we belong to our lord. Some are blessed by the old gods to be wed to a kind man, as I have been; but some men are not kind, or generous, or true to their ladies and their ladies become unhappy or even mean and cruel. I have known such women, and I should never want to be one-" But I was: I was unhappy and so I was untrue...and the gods punished me. The wine has loosened her tongue, and she fears that she may weep. "-for I have seen how hurtful and dangerous they may be, and the harm that it causes. But our lives are not always easy, Ivy. We have many privileges, as you have seen; but we have many responsibilities as well. It is the same with lords: they must provide protection, and provisions and work and homes for his commons and all of his people. Ladies may set example by showing kindness and generosity and strength of a different kind. We are given much; and much is required of us. We are not free as the wildlings are to do as we please, not if we do our duty as we were born and raised to do."
Ivy looks steadily at her and furrows her brow. "I don't think that I want to be a lady anymore then," she tells her frankly.
Sansa smiles even as she feels tears behind her eyes and leans forward to speak confidentially. "That's quite alright, Ivy; I have sometimes wished not to have been born a lady either."
Ivy leans forward as well and whispers eagerly: "You can leave with us in the Spring…and live with the Free Folk."
Sansa feels her lips quiver even as she smiles gently. "Oh Ivy, you already know that you don't need to be born a lady to be kind. You look out for the other girls and you take an interest in people and their work, and that is akin to duty. I think you will be a very good woman someday, for yourself and for your people."
Ivy swallows hard and nods. "Thank you, Lady Greatjon."
"There you are! You went searching for naught! She was here all along," they hear the Greatjon behind them. When they turn to look at him, he is carrying a sleeping Gretel in his great arms. Sansa rises and looks at her carefully.
"She was sleeping? In the hall?"
"Aye, found her curled up under a table near the hearth," he tells her in his deep voice. "Might be she was hiding but she looks peaceful enough, wouldn't you say? Shall I carry her to her chamber, then?"
Sansa looks tenderly on him, her husband who is so good and kind with children; and again her heart aches that she cannot give him more, and all because…
Lyanna. She remembers why she has hurried back to the Great Hall.
"I- well…"
"One of the wildling women then?" He begins to turn back to the hall.
"No…my lord, but mayhaps Ivy will go with you. Ivy, go with my lord and show him Gretel's bed; take off her shoes and cover her with her blanket. Can you do that for me?"
The girl nods again and leaves with Lord Umber and Gretel. Sansa turns to enter the Great Hall and is immediately met with Lyanna.
"Lady Umber," she exclaims happily, "I am so pleased to see you. Forgive me but I have not learned my way around the castle as yet," she drops her voice confidentially, "pray is there a privy nearby? I should hate to have to climb upstairs and try to find our chamber in the dark alone," she finishes sheepishly. "Smalljon is not in the hall."
Sansa smiles. She is relieved to have a reason to lead the girl away from where she may happen upon her already-wayward husband and so takes her by the hand.
"I confess that I am in need myself; I have had far too much wine. Come with me…and promise to no longer address me as Lady Umber. I would have you call me Sansa…if it please you: we are not so distant in age, and I cannot tell you how very happy I am to have another lady at Last Hearth. Since my lord's elder daughters have left, I have been quite bereft of company."
Lyanna clutches at her hand and her eyes shine with happiness. "Oh…thank you…Sansa. You will call me Lyanna, won't you? I have hoped so much that we should be friends: I want to be a good wife to Smalljon and, well, Mormont women are not known for their feminine pursuits," she blushes self-depricatingly. I- I truly would like to learn from your example. You and Lord Umber seem so happy together; and I want so much for us to be happy."
Sansa forces herself to keep her smile from wavering. "I also want you to be happy, Lyanna. Come now," she prompts and leads her away from the hall.