Ever since she was a young girl, she had wanted to go out and explore the world. To know what lay outside the dreariness of her Kingdom where rarely anything exciting happened. No glorious feasts, no tourneys, no processions. Wondering what it would be like to not experience snow in the summer and not needing to walk around with fur cloaks as it was too cold outside. Within the walls, that was different due to the piping system that had been implemented when Winterfell had been built. All she wanted was to be anywhere but the North.

How foolish she had been, because now she couldn't imagine ever leaving.

Whilst Sansa had been back in the North for nigh on a year, only the last two weeks had it felt like the place she had lived until she was three and ten. Back then she had been a little girl with her head filled with tales of glorious Knight's and dashing Prince's and beautiful Queen's. It sickened her when she thought back on it, but at least she did get the reality check needed. Many southern ladies likely would've been trained to expect such things, remembering Margaery Tyrell getting close to her to try and get her wed to Loras. The Queen of the South had been six and ten then, yet if Sansa didn't know she would've thought she was much older with the way she carried herself.

Looking outside to take everything in. From the Master of Horse tending to the few who had ridden through whilst a servant showed whichever Lord they belonged to their quarters. A light dusting of snow falling from the sky and covering her eyelashes but it was nothing new to her. The Lady could deny it all she wanted, but a part of her did just want to dive into a snow pile and have snowball fights and make snow sculptures. Alas, an image must be upheld. She wasn't a little girl anymore. She was the Lady of Winterfell, and she was Heir in all but name to the King in the North.

That was something she was still getting used to. Sansa had never imagined Jon in a leadership role, likely down to her mothers and Septa's teachings of bastards being lesser than their trueborn blood. Referring to him as half-brother on days where she felt like being nice but bastard more often than nought. It shamed her, especially because they were the only people remaining of the pack. Their father was dead, her mother was dead, Jon's mother likely as well even if her identity had never been revealed, Robb was dead, Rickon was dead, Arya had gone missing, and Bran also was. Deep inside, she had a small thread of hope that somehow they were still alive.

The lone wolf dies but the pack survives.

Jon and herself had to remain united now, hence why she had been keeping a closer eye on Lord Baelish than usual. He'd taught her well, something she was loathe to admit. Not only this, but she also loathed she was now indebted to him as without the Vale reinforcements the battle would've been lost. Shaking her head to rid her vibrant hair from a few snowflakes and making her way down into the courtyard.

"I apologise for interrupting, but are you aware of where his Grace is?"

It embarrassed Sansa that she did not know the name of the man she had just asked. He had a face that was familiar to her from childhood. Arya probably did, she had a knack for befriending people society saw as lower then herself. Remembering the butchers boy she'd asked to teach her swordplay. Before any thought of Lady could come to the surface, he replied.

"His Grace went to the Godswood, my Lady."

She nodded in acceptance before making her way there. When she was a child, the Godswood had terrified her. With the white trunks of the numerous Weirwood trees to the blood red leaves and the multiple streams she could easily fall into. Yet now? A sense of calmness filled her. Not like the scent of incense and singing to the faces of the Seven in the small Sept her father had built especially for her mother. She found Jon seated on a rock polishing Longclaw directly in front of the largest Weirwood in the area. With its face carved to look like someone was screaming with deep red sap bleeding across the white bark. A flash of bright red snapped her attention, not even noticing Ghost was lying in a blanket of snow too as his fur completely camouflaged him.

"The Lords and Ladies have started arriving."

Jon's head snapped up to her, clearly not hearing her. Leaning down to place the whetstone on the ground and sheathing the sword. Sansa had heard how he'd obtained it and the significance it held. Whilst she herself was wary of the claim of White Walker's being real, there was no denying that there was something out there. Why else would the Free Folk be terrified to live where they had done so for thousands of years? After all, direwolves were thought extinct yet here was one now begging for ear scratches which she happily gave. Dragons were thought to be extinct yet there were three in Essos somewhere last she heard. Why not one more legend?

Northerner's were a superstitious lot; it was a known fact. One of many cultural differences between here and the southern Kingdom's. Also a reason why there were few marriages crossing borders. That was something that would need to be addressed. Jon had been adamant he would not wed and it angered her that he did have a good point. But without him being wed she was his heir, meaning she was once again a pawn in the great game. Something she had sworn she would never become again once Theon and her escaped Ramsay.

"Which ones?"

Her brother was now stood directly in front of her, taking in his clothing and feeling a small smile coming onto her face that he was wearing the fur cloak she had made for him. Made of a mixture of seal and rabbit fur with two silver direwolves facing one another pinning it together. Much of his clothing was still black, even before he had joined the Night's Watch he had consistently worn said colour.

"Lord Glover and Lord Cerwyn were already here, Lord Whitehill, Lady Karstark, Lady Mormont, and Lord Forrester. I'd imagine the others will be arriving within the next few days."

"Good, means I have time to think on what to say."

She really shouldn't have, but a small snort left her at the words.

"You'll need to show them- "

Simply nodding to his chest, the silent words being all that was needed. Shuffling ever so slightly as it made him uncomfortable. Not that Sansa could blame him, she hadn't heard of anyone being brought back from the dead.

"What actually happened? I only know that you died and were brought back. As in, the lead up, if you saw anything- "

She trailed off at this, feeling bad for bringing it up. Betrayal by someone trusted was something that cut deeper than knives, and in her brothers case, he had experienced both.

"You've heard about Hardhome from the Free Folk surely?"

That she had, a shiver wracking through her as she tried to imagine the sheer decimation. Five thousands escaped, and according to those who did survive there had been more than one hundred thousand.

"Whilst many of the brothers came to see sense, some did not. My mistake was that they were in high positions. All bar one. Ser Alliser Thorne, Othell Yarwick, Bowen Marsh, and Olly. The first three hated me from the moment I arrived, it was known Ser Alliser lusted after the Commander position. If it weren't for Sam suggesting me it would've been him who got elected. The other two followed him due to this. Olly on the other hand, was different. A little boy who witnessed his family be butchered by some of the Free Folk. One of them was Tormund."

This surprised her. She hadn't known Tormund for long but he seemed like a good person. Albeit with a tongue that was far too loose in casual insults. At least this was the North, likely the only Kingdom in Westeros that didn't take offense to people straight talking.

"I tried to make him see reason, it was part of the reason he was my steward, so he'd be close to me at all times. He came to me that night, saying he'd heard one of the Wildling's speaking about Uncle Benjen. They proceeded to corner me. I'd only just started to process it before I felt the first knife. Truthfully, it felt like a punch and that's what I thought it was at first. Until I saw the blade used covered in my blood. I took seven blows but I stopped feeling it after the first, shock simply taking over. All I do remember was feeling a rush of panic, then an odd sense of calmness, then nothing. Just black. Like a deep sleep where you have no dreams and wake up hours later."

At some point, Sansa realised she had gripped his arm to offer him support. It clearly weighing heavily on him. It was selfish on her part, but she was glad it had happened. It meant he was free and that she wasn't alone anymore. No longer a Lone Wolf which she had been for so many years. Walking forward to stare at the face on the tree, feeling like it was looking directly through her. Remembering the last time she had stood here.

"I was wed here."

Jon sucked in a breath before placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing. Understanding she was now returning the debt of him opening to her on a troubling time.

"I'd heard stories of him, even when we were children. Especially the rumour of him poisoning his trueborn brother to force Roose to name him his heir. He seemed almost warm to me, but I wasn't a fool anymore. Joffrey looked at me the same way when he rode through the same gates. He made Theon watch, as he tore my dress off and took me like a broodmare from behind. Even now I can still feel his hands on my back and- "

When her brother had pulled her into his chest she knew nought, but she was glad for it. Tears being caught by the fur cloak which she buried her face into. Being comforted by the soft thumping of his heart which confirmed he was indeed alive and had been brought back.

"Come, I know a way back to the Keep without going through the courtyard. We have a few days more to prepare everything."

Those few days came and went. Her hurt expressions masked by a cold look as she stood just behind Jon and Ser Davos as young Lord Umber rode in with who his regent could only be. Anger swelling up within as she looked at the son of the man who handed over Rickon to Ramsay Bolton. But Sansa knew that she couldn't show this as he was escorted inside to prepare for the feast. When was the last time she'd attended a feast? Ramsay certainly didn't host any, nor were there any in the Eyrie. Not even when her aunt had wed Lord Baelish. Instead making her way inside behind the King. If her mother was alive she would've thrown a fit. Taking her seat to Jon's left with Ser Davos seated on his right. A crown was still being made for him so he was doing without, but there was no denying the commanding aura he was giving off.

This is what a King should look like, she knew that now.

Whilst this meeting was not necessarily needed as the ravens had been sent proclaiming her brother as such, not every Lord and Lady had joined the battle. Jon needed everyone to kneel to him, the last thing needed is more contention. All were seated at the tables. Drinking merrily, talking loudly, and eating so much food she was surprised neither of them had burst. It felt strange, having jovial times in this very hall again. The last time they had was before they had all left when they were children. She wished she could go back, scream at her younger self for being so stupid. Thoughts disappearing as she heard the signal agreed with Maester Wolkan, both herself and Jon standing up and catching everyone's attention. They waited until it was completely silent before she spoke.

"My Lords and Ladies if you are here then you are aware of the development. Those who survived the battle declared my brother here as King. You have all been summoned to object or to kneel."

Her heart was hammering within, not being used to giving speeches at all. Hoping her nerves weren't noticeable. Jon spoke some words too but her attention was captured by Lord Baelish who had a lazy smile on his face, stepping into the centre of the room. What was he doing? It seemed the others were thinking similarly as some shouted at him.

"Forgive me, my Lady. Perhaps my sources were incorrect. Last I was aware your half-brother was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."

Immediately, the barb was caught. Half-brother. Shame filling her as she had once referred to him as such.

"My Lord, that is something that will be addressed. I am surprised you are here; last I was aware you were the one who paid the Goldcloaks to arrest our father."

If it weren't for her years of careful studying, her face would've snapped to him in shock as that was new to her. From the angry mutters in the room it seems she was not the only one unaware. Lord Baelish however simply donned his signature smirk.

"A misunderstanding, Lord Commander, that is all."

Be careful Jon. Sansa knew how dangerous a move it was to anger Petyr or the stop him in his tracks to get what he wanted. He'd deny it, but she was no fool. He wanted the throne for himself, and she was his token to getting him such. And with her simply being heir, she wasn't his token anymore and he did not appreciate this.

"Nay, I am sure it is not a misunderstanding. Does the name Janos Slynt ring a bell? He was leader of the Gold Cloak's and he was Lord of Harrenhal before it was granted to yourself?"

Many wouldn't have noticed it, but his eyes widened in alarm. So it was true. He had been the one to bribe the Gold Cloak's and had actively betrayed her family. Not a surprise given everything, but a betrayal of said calibre she did not expect.

"I am sure Lord Slynt spoke to get himself out of trouble. I would like to clear this with him if possible when you travel back to the Wall- "

"He's dead. Executed by mine own hand for direct refusal of orders on multiple occasions. When I tell you the things he confessed to right before Longclaw met his neck were gruesome. Not only that you paid the Gold Cloak's to arrest our father Lord Eddard, of how he took glee when Joffrey Waters ordered him to execute all of King Robert's bastards. One of which still being a small babe at its mothers teat. Of how it wasn't the only bribe they had ever taken. I wonder if Queen Cersei will still tolerate you when she finds out where some of the treasury goes."

Tread carefully, brother. Those words circling in her mind as she desperately tried to keep her face still. The last portion whilst not in detail, the seed was planted. He'd been stealing from the Southern Crown. For how long had he been doing so? That was information to keep to herself.

"If anyone has any objections to my rule, I shall hear them out. Lord Baelish, you are correct in the statement that I was Lord Commander. I know many will not believe my words so I shall show you instead."

Sansa had seen the scars before, and despite being curious to look at them again she found she could not do so. A reminder that for a time she had been the Lone Wolf. A thought that terrified her. The moment they all split, nothing but chaos tore through their family. They had to stick together now more than ever. It was obvious when he revealed them, the shocked gasps and the way some faces turned green in disgust. They were covered up quickly enough as he sat down once more.

"Now that has been answered, are there any other reasons to be against? I shall hear them all."

Now, it was Lord Arnolf who stepped forward.

"What are these Wildling invaders doing on our grounds?"

Out the corner of her eye she spotted his son Cregan, the one he wanted to wed Lady Alys before deposing of her brother Harrion to take Karhold. Sansa had expected to feel anger when she rode through the gates a few days prior but was instead met with a little girl. So young she either hadn't yet flowered or had only just. It didn't dissipate her anger towards her for what her family had done, but she did feel bad for her.

"We didn't invade, we were invited- "

"Not by us you weren't scum!"

A fight was about to break out and she spotted Jon's eyebrows crease a little. What was he going to do? Her question was answered a moment later as he stood up to his full height and voice booming in a way it had her feeling like a toddler in trouble for stealing lemon cakes from the kitchens.

"Firstly, I will not tolerate this slander whilst in this room. The Free Folk are here as guests because unlike many of you who decided to wallow in your castles and ignore everything going on around you, they answered the call. Aye, they have killed and raided and pillaged us for thousands of years but so did we. It is something that will need to be accepted because so long as I am King, I will not toss those away who aided my father's House when it was most needed. Also, if it weren't for them, I would be nought but ashes. I was dead, my Lords and Ladies. And tradition at the Night's Watch is to burn the dead. This was about to happen when they charged through the gates and captured those who stuck their knives in me. I owe my life to them; the Stark's owe them as they helped us take back our home. If your claims of being loyal to House Stark are true, then you should not find any fault in them remaining south of the Wall."

The red head- Tormund- had a large smirk on his face. Noticing a few others also were wearing them. Gods Jon, where did you learn to speak like such? To say she was impressed was an understatement. From the words spoken on their ride down to Winterfell, she knew the story inside out and there was only truth there. Twisted to fit the narrative of course, but there was no lie in his words. Lord Arnolf made to sit back down, face red in anger but Jon signalled to one of the guards who arrested the man.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

Sansa was confused too, what was he planning? This was answered when two people pushed to the front, one being a young woman. Then, she knew. And judging by the sheer look of panic now on the Lord's face, he understood too. The second being a young boy whom she noticed now had lost an arm and was wearing a patch over his eye.

"Northern custom dictates that one is not to betray family. So tell me, why did you arrange to have your son wed Lady Alys and send cutthroats after Lord Harrion? Which if it weren't for receiving a tip off, would've succeeded?"

Cregan snapped his head to his father now and from the expression Sansa could tell he was unaware of the plans made. Numerous faces of disgust snapped to the man now who had gone as white as a sheet. It lasted only for a second before burning deep red in anger.

"You will believe the word of a little girl over a Lord?!"

"I would believe the word of a young girl, her brother who was almost butchered by his own kin, alongside some inside sources. If it were one account, perhaps I would be wary? But multiple? I doubt it. I will ask you again, why did you betray your own family and attempt to kill your own nephew?"

At least Lord Arnolf had the decency not to deny the claim, but she would need to find out who the inside sources were as he hadn't made her aware of such a thing. Something that were she younger would've ran to her mother crying that he was betraying them. She wasn't a little girl anymore. She was a woman of twenty and one, heir to the Northern throne, and only remaining trueborn child of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Tully.

"A woman should not run a household- "

"I will pretend I did not hear such, my Lord. And you'd better be glad my sisters and mother are all dead as I'm sure all would've ran you through for such a comment."

A tiny smile formed on her face and nodding slightly towards Lady Mormont. For someone who had just turned ten and one, she had the ferocity of someone much older.

"Do you have anything else to say for yourself, Lord Arnolf?"

The words that fell from the man's mouth were far from pleasant. Basically going on a rant how the Stark's owed him for what had happened to Lord Rickard. Even now, Robb's actions haunted them. Her father always said it was ill will to dishonour the dead with their actions, but Sansa thought differently.

"Lord Cregan, do you have anything to say in relation to your father?"

Jon was now looking to the younger, not missing her sharp ears that he had referred to him by his father's title. Suddenly realising the route Jon was going.

"Nay, your Grace. I only ask one thing. Spare his life. Whilst he betrayed my House and family, he is still my father."

At some point, Jon had sat back down. All anger that had been seeping from him no longer there.

"I will grant said request. Tormund, you and three dozen of your men will escort Lord Arnolf to Eastwatch. Keep an eye on him."

The Lord began sputtering in anger again but with a harsh hit to the back of his head he was knocked out and dragged from the room by Tormund and someone else she didn't have a name for yet.

"Lord Manderly, I hear you have two granddaughters. Are either of them betrothed?"

Lord Wyman's eyes widened a fraction and his momentarily glee, clearly thinking Jon was going to propose marriage to one of them. She knew better though, her brother was adamant he would not wed and as much as she hated it, he did make good points as to why. It was something she'd need to work on so she would no longer be someone's piece to play games with.

"I do, your Grace. And neither are betrothed nor wed."

"One of them will wed Lord Cregan, I will leave you decide which one. Lord Harrion Karstark, do you desire Karhold?"

"Nay, I do not, your Grace. It should've been one of my older brothers to inherit."

"Then you shall become your sisters regent until she is ten and six. Lord Cregan, once you are wed you will take the Dreadfort as your Seat. Is there any opposition to said terms?"

You clever man. If they weren't in company she would've started laughing. With a couple of moves House Karstark had both been knocked down a peg but given an opportunity to build back to what they were. No one objected, why would they? Someone had to take the Dreadfort and creating a secondary branch who were going to be loyal through gratitude and through marriage bonds was an excellent idea.

"Lord Cregan Karstark, Lord Regent Harrion Karstark, Lady Alys Karstark, please step forward. Do you accept the terms? If so, swear your fealty."

It wasn't something they could deny. It was a fantastic deal even if it did grate on her that they weren't being punished. All three went to one knee and swearing oaths to Jon as King.

"Lord Umber, step forward."

What was he going to do here? A young boy stepped into the centre of the room now, probably of an age of Rickon. Had he been friends? Had he known about what his father was going to do? If he had, had he warned her baby brother? She felt anger over the Karstark's, but it was pale in comparison to what she felt towards the Umber's.

"You were named after my father, I believe?"

"Aye, your Grace."

"Yet your family betrayed my House?"

"My family did, but not me. My oath is to House Stark. I'm sorry, for what my father done. I wasn't aware until it had already happen. I knew your brother well, we were friends. I just hope that when the arrow hit it was instant. He did not deserve to die the way he did."

It was silent for a few moments as the words rang through the hall. The crack in the young boys voice seemed genuine, but it was difficult to tell as she had never met him before.

"I will admit I am angry with the actions of your House. But as my father always said, a child is not a representation of their father. Will you renew your pledge here and rise as Lord Ned Umber of Last Hearth?"

Sansa's head snapped to him now, anger coursing through her within her blood. The words falling from her lips before she remembered to whom she was speaking.

"So you will reward traitors but not reward those loyal?!"

The second the words were spoken, silence ensued. Eyes widening in horror at what she had just done. It was high treason to insult a King's decision, even when it came from family.

"If I were to stand here and strip everyone who has previously betrayed someone in this room, we would be in a room of skeletons. Court dismissed."

Everyone filed out now and Jon walked to the side door with a staircase leading to the upper levels which overlooked the courtyard. Her face was probably as red as her hair currently, no longer needing to hide her irritation.

"You are my sister but I am King now."

"You should start wearing a crown."

"When you question my decisions in front of the other Lords and Ladies you undermine me."

Ouch, that one hurt. But she had to make him see sense.

"So we can't question your decisions?"

"Of course you can! But not in public like that- "

"Joffrey didn't let anyone question his decisions; do you think he was a good King?"

By the time she realised what she had said, it was too late. Jon pausing in his step and turning to face her with a look that could only be described as hurt.

"Do you think I'm Joffrey?"

Sansa's head dipped slightly, shame bubbling up within but she was his sister. Hence looking him directly in the eye.

"You're as far from Joffrey as one can possibly imagine."

"Thank you."

There was still a bite to his tone, but there was gratitude in there. Realising that by her making the comparison she's gotten him thinking that perhaps his newfound power was getting to his head.

"You're good at this, you know? At ruling. They respect you; they really do but you- "

Jon started laughing which caught her off guard. Asking what had caused him to do so.

"What did father always used to say? Everything before the word but is horseshit."

"He never said that to me."

"Nay, he detested cursing in front of his precious girls. Me and Robb on the other hand heard it on more than one occasion."

"He detested it, or he didn't want us to know how vile the world truly is? I will give you some advice and I am not undermining you. You need to be smarted than father, you need to be smarter than Robb. I loved them and I miss them every single day but they made stupid mistakes that should not have been made and both lost their heads for it. What you did with the Karstark's shows me that you probably are smarter, but can you continue to be so?"

Turning to the side to look at the courtyard below where some of the Lord's had decided to have an impromptu sparring session. It was something she herself had never learned despite being a Northern Lady, and it was something she had no desire to learn. But she could admire so from afar.

"How do you suggest I do so? By listening to you?"

Many would've taken such words as insult, but she knew her brother. He was teasing her.

"Would that really be so difficult, your Grace?"