For so long she had wished to get out of the North. Whether that be wishful thinking, dreaming, imagining from what she had heard from her mother. Picturing herself in southern gowns and speaking to Knight's and Lady's and watching tournaments as they took place. It all sounded wonderful, yet that had come crashing down on her. Yet now, they were closing in on White Harbour. The white city and the only city there was in the North looking like a village in comparison to Kings Landing, yet the crisp air she breathed in hard and loved the way the freezing cold air encased her.

Not again. She was not of the south. Those were dreams of a little girl and she could not be a little girl anymore despite her age working against her. Three and ten she was, about to turn four and ten within the current turn of the moon, but she was a Lady of House Stark and now she had to be a Lady. Hence why Ser Wendel suggested she speak to Lady Wynafryd. Sansa knew her well, she'd visited Winterfell numerous times along with her sister with her vibrant green hair. For a moment she reached down to pet Lady before remembering Lady was no longer of this world. All because of her own stupidity in claiming not to remember anything.

She should've seen it then. She saw the way Joffrey's green eyes flashed as he raised his sword towards Arya who only had a stick on her person. The way he had taunted the Butcher's Boy, the way he had swung the weapon so ferociously towards her sister. Wolves stick together, they were pack, yet in that moment she forgot she was pack and had instead defended the pride. No more, Sansa vowed. No more. She was a Lady of the North, and a Lady of the North she would become.

Sandor was as foul as ever, yet somehow she wasn't afraid of him. Nor was she even so much as nervous around him. He had done something for her few people would, and now she was indebted to him. If only he'd stop his damned cursing over the cold for it was something he was going to have to get used to so long as he was with her. The following morning they finally docked on the shore, being greeted by Lord Wyman and Wylis Manderly alongside Wylis' daughters. Eyes momentarily widening at her but they kept their composure and offered them bread and salt before being brought up to New Castle. The only castle that was built for show in the North, as the Manderly's were originally a southern House who sought refuge when one of the Gardner King's banished them from the Reach. Openly following the Seven and holding many southern values despite the fact they had not lived in the south for hundreds of years. Lord Wyman barked an order towards some servants once inside to ready rooms for herself and Sandor, the servants scrambling to do just that before inviting them all into a dining hall where not to her surprise there was a feast that would make even King Robert jealous were he still alive.

"I am surprised you are here, my Lady. The Queen is telling people she has yourself and your sister."

"I fear I cannot disclose in relation to Arya for I am unaware, although I hope she was able to get free of the lions claws like the wolf she is."

Not much was said after her words as all helped themselves to food. Stomach growling as she had not eaten a proper meal since before she had pushed Joffrey. Mutton crusted with herbs and lemon, with creamed potatoes alongside fish row. Something she had only tried a handful of times in her life but she ate it all the same to be courteous.

"It is a shame what happened, a boy of eight having the Iron Throne."

So Tommen had been proclaimed King, ice rippling through her as that meant only one thing. Cersei was Queen Regent, and the first thing she would be doing was proclaim her as the person who had killed Joffrey and would send numerous people her way. Hence a decision was made. When she got back to Winterfell, she would ask Ser Rodrik to train her. Not as much as he had trained the boys, but enough she could defend herself if need be. Writing a letter for her mother and Robb and asking for it to be sent so they would know she was back here and she was safe. For three days they remained in New Castle before heading out, being given one of the finest cloaks available that only nobility could afford which helmet massively although Sandor was still grumbling in annoyance and muttering curses under his breath.

"If you don't want to be here you can leave."

"Nay, you roped me into this shit little bird, so I have to remain and trod through the shit."

"You didn't need to run with me, you chose to do so and to shelter me."

He opened his mouth to retort but he thought better of it and instead took to not speaking a single word the remainder of the journey. Not that she was going to complain, as he had began to get on her nerves for more than a few reasons now. For two weeks they trudged through the summer snows before they reached Wintertown and seemingly in the blink of an eye the massive grey walls surrounding Winterfell were in front of her. A feeling running through her body she never thought she would feel as she hated the North before she had left to go south. Riding through the gates was strange but this all disappeared the moment she lay eyes on equally as bright blue eyes as she herself had.

"Sansa!"

Bran yelled out, Rickon looking confused but jumping up and down in excitement. Before she could even think she was running towards them, opening her arms and squeezing both her brothers into a tight embrace. The last time she had seen Bran he had been unconscious after his fall, and she had left knowing there was a slim chance he would survive. Yet here he was, proving Stark's were hardier than many expected of them. For a long time they had kept their claws within and refused to use them, but no more. Soon, Westeros would know their claws were sharp and they wanted blood for the death of her father. To think it had come to that for her to see Joffrey for what he was sickened her, and she cursed herself for going to Cersei begging for her to convince her father to not go ahead with sending herself and Arya away from the capital.

There was a modest meal that night, just between them, Maester Luwin, and Beth Cassel. The latter had been a breath of fresh air, a girl she knew since they were only babes themselves but it wasn't the same without Jeyne. Wondering to herself what had happened to her in the panic that almost certainly ensued within the Red Keep when Joffrey was found impaled on the spikes. Even now the memory was sweet. An older woman walking in she did not recognise who was wearing shackles on her ankles.

"Who is she?"

Bran turned around to see who she meant before turning back to her.

"Oh that's Osha, she's a wildling spearwife. Robb and Theon killed the others with her but we took her captive. Gods, some of the stories she has Sansa! And she doesn't hesitate to go into the nasty things like Old Nan!"

"Keep your voice down little Lord."

Bran's cheeks reddened in embarrassment, noticing the woman in question smirking in amusement before leaving the room so they were alone.

"Now you're here are mother and Robb coming home?"

Rickon's words caused a jerk within her but there was no use in lying to him. Even though he was very young, the sooner he knows what the world is really like the better.

"Perhaps, Robb is working to avenge father- "

"But mother isn't!"

Maester Luwin stepped in now and whispered some words in his ear which calmed him down, turning to her and saying he was going to settle him for the night which she was glad for. Leaving her alone with Beth and Bran.

"What was the capital like? Was it as glorious as everyone says?"

"Opposite. It stinks of shit and piss on every street, you can even smell it in the Red Keep. Everyone takes everything as an insult even if it is something as simple as stating a fact. The tourneys were fun, apart from the death."

Beth gasped in horror at her bluntness.

"But it's a sin to spill blood at a tourney!"

"Well blood was spilled. I watched a man choke on a splinter which came off a lance which lodged into his neck. I heard him gasping for air and instead inhaling his own blood."

"What happened to you sister? It's not like you to speak so callously."

Sansa didn't speak for a bit, thinking her words through as she drank the remainder of the warm blackberry juice given to them all.

"I was made to watch as my betrothed ordered Ser Ilyn Payne to behead father. I watched as Ice was used to do it. Afterwards, he took me up to Traitor's Walk and made me look at his head. Tell me brother, would you not have some callousness after witnessing such?"

When he spoke no more on the matter, she knew he understood. Beth had gone a little green and asked to dismiss herself which both granted without hesitation.

"Maester Luwin says there is a rumour going around that you killed Joffrey."

"And what if I did?"

His eyes widened, understanding what she had just confirmed with only a handful of words. But soon his face was cleared of all emotion and looking oh so much like father apart from the colour of his eyes which he'd gotten from their mother.

"Either you were in a position where you had no choice, or it was for the better."

It was for the better. She knew now that if he ever lived long enough to actually rule himself the Seven Kingdom's would be at war for the entirety of his reign.

"That's not all though. Ravens were received from Lord Stannis on Dragonstone. Proclaiming that all of Cersei's children are not King Robert's."

She dropped her cup at that, eyeing him incredulously.

"What?"

"Father sent him a raven explaining it but I don't know it all. But apparently when confronted the Queen confirmed his suspicions. Tommen and Myrcella are not Baratheon's, they're full Lannister. Their father is the Queen's twin brother Ser Jaime."

Sansa felt sick. Recalling the argument that had occurred when her father had told her he was sending both herself and Arya away and the way he'd looked at her when she said her sons would be roaring lions like their father. Incest was vile, it went against every moral fibre in her body and now she was glad she was no longer betrothed as she had pushed him.

"That's not the only thing Sansa. He's not here just now as he had some errands to run. Jon didn't speak the vows. He was close to doing so but decided he didn't want to go through with it and rode back. I know you and him aren't close but he's our brother."

Half-brother, she wanted to say. Yet she would not spoil the mood. Jon had warned her to keep safe, as had Robb and Arya, yet she had ignored them all believing they were simply jealous as she would become Queen.

"What is he doing?"

"Standing in as an unofficial Lord of Winterfell where I can't. There's friction with the Whitehill's and Forrester's again, he rode out to try and get to the bottom of whatever skirmish they're having now."

The hells would freeze over before either of those two House's saw eye to eye. Whether they were fighting for their own grievances or past grievances that neither had forgotten or were willing to let go of, they were always fighting. But that was the least of her worries. She was home finally, but she was far from safe. It would not be long before what she had done seeped to every corner of the Kingdom's and people would be grasping to tear her down to better themselves. For a dove she no longer was, she was a direwolf.

And this direwolf had fangs that were desperate to bite on its prey.