Chapter 4:
"We need to decide what we're going to do." Arya broke the quietness of the wood to Sansa. They were sat with the horses whilst Sandor and Brienne had gone off to check if it was safe near the Kingsroad. It was a conversation Sansa had been trying to avoid; she had tried to believe that if the four of them just kept getting up and riding and stopping for lunch and riding and stopping for dinner and sleeping and repeating it over that that was the way they could be. But of course they could not.
"Isn't it obvious?" She said, leaning in to look closer at her sister.
"Our family is broken," Arya's voice was small and hopeless, "There's Jon at the wall. That's it. I've always wanted to just fly north to him. He'll look after us. The wall can protect us in case the Lannisters find out we're still alive."
"You know the wall has no part in the wars of Westeros," Sansa replied sadly, "Jon wouldn't be allowed to let us stay."
"He would now," Arya objected, "Did you know he's been elected Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. They all have to do as he says. He can take us in and look after us!"
"No, Arya, please listen to me…" Arya had always had a mind of her own, never a thought for anyone else's opinion. But if Sansa started thinking like that again, like the Sansa of old, then she would start arguing like it, and they would probably split up the group. She didn't want to think about who would go with who.
"But who will look after us?"
"We have each other. And we've still got Winterfell." At the mention of the great fortress of the Stark family Sansa felt her shoulders square up slightly, as if they were finally ready for some heavy burden. Arya looked up at her with a curiosity at first, but then it faded.
"Winterfell was sacked by Theon Turncloak," She said miserably, "And now it's owned by Roose Bolton and his son. They actually believe the girl that married his son is me. They think they own Winterfell by blood, but they don't. We could never just walk through the gates and demand it back."
"No…" Said Sansa slowly, "But we could take it back."
"How?"
"There are still men in the north loyal to Father. Men who ride only for a Stark. If they find out the daughters of Eddard Stark are still alive they'll follow us. We need to find out exactly what the situation is amongst the Boltons."
"Theon is Ramsay's hostage. Reek, I think he's called. At an inn Sandor and I stayed in they were saying that Asha Greyjoy, Theon's sister, is going to try and go inland from the Iron Islands to save her brother."
Asha Greyjoy. The name stuck in Sansa's head. A potential ally. She had heard Father talking about the Ironborn. They had no interest in the north, only their islands and their kingsmoot and sea chair, or whatever it was. Once Asha saved her brother she would have no need for Winterfell. She would end the Boltons and just leave it, return to the Iron Islands.
The sudden loud interruption of Brienne and Sandor's voices jerked Sansa out of her thoughts.
"We'll keep to the trees for now," Sandor rasped, "Keeping the Kingsroad to our left."
"For a while we will…" Sansa replied, standing and helping her sister to her feet.
"What do you mean, my lady?" Said Brienne suspiciously.
"We've been journeying North this whole time with no inclination as to where we're actually going," Sansa's voice was full of caution, "But I want to go West towards the Iron Islands, to meet with Asha Greyjoy before she comes inland headed for Winterfell."
"What d'you want to go pissing around with a bunch of sea rats like the iron born for?" Asked Sandor.
"Because Asha Greyjoy will be making her way to Winterfell to save her brother from Ramsay Bolton," Sansa looked at him, no thoughts of awkwardness or worry or fear in her mind at all, "And I believe she could be a powerful ally if the Starks are to sit in the Great Hall of Winterfell again."
Sandor's face did not change but his mouth twitched and his eyes, which were fixed on Sansa in a stillness, slowly shifted to a look of humour mixed with pity. Still living in a dream, they seemed to say.
"No, little bird," His voice was a calm, hoarse rasp, "It's the wall we are headed for, as long as the horses can make the pull. Your Commander brother will look after you…"
"We are Starks of Winterfell," Interjected Arya, "And Winterfell is where we belong. We are going to take it back, with Asha Geryjoy's help."
"But you can't," Brienne came in now, "Winterfell is lorded over by the Boltons…"
"…who hold Greyjoy's brother captive," Sansa said, "And I know what lengths she will go to, to get him back. She is iron born. West is where I will go to meet with her and hopefully persuade her."
"And if you don't?" Sandor's question hung in the air like an arrow loosed from the bow.
"I'll come to the wall." Sansa's words were rock hard.
"You'll come to the wall now," Brienne's determination matched her own, "I made a promise to your lady mother that I would look after you."
"You still will," Sansa replied with a sudden surprising idea taking wing in her head. Yes, what she was thinking could work… "You will take Ayra to the wall, to see Lord Commander Snow. You and Sandor both."
She knew Sandor and Arya were giving each other a look that was plain to see they weren't happy about being stuck with each other again.
"But why just me?" Arya cut in, "What about you?"
"You shouldn't be there if things go badly with Asha Greyjoy," Sansa said protectively, "There are two Stark girls alive. We need to keep it from falling to one."
"But you're the one who said Jon wouldn't be able to look after us," Arya shot back.
"No, but he can find someone who will. Give you food enough and provisions to see you safely to a small town somewhere. Maybe take a ship from Eastwatch-by-the-sea."
"And who, may I ask, is going with you to the Greyjoy girl?" Brienne asked.
"No one." Sansa's voice was hard and unbending. She did not want to think about the expression on Brienne's face. Before anyone could say anything else she walked away, leading her horse by the reins downstream where he could drink, and she could gather her thoughts about what she had just announced. She could hear the commotion behind her, a mixture of three clashing voices until Sandor's rasp cut across:
"I'll deal with this."
She braced herself for an argument. If he wanted he could scoop her up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carry her to the Wall that way. She then thought of Winterfell, a ruin run by Lord Bolton and his bastard. Let him try.
She made her way around to the bag on the other side of her saddle. She could hear his ragged breath as he came to her. Before he spoke she moved again. He suddenly grabbed her arm with an iron grip.
"You'll come to the wall with us," He said. She yanked her arm away. "You little fool," He rasped, "Do you have any idea how fucking dangerous it would be to go alone?"
"I want to go home," Sansa replied in a shaking voice, struggling to hold back tears, "This is the only way I know how."
"Don't be so fucking stupid," Said Sandor, "You can go to your brother on the wall. He'll find you a home."
"He'll find Arya a home until it's safe for us at Winterfell. This is the only way."
"And if you come across a group of men on the road? Are you really going to believe that you're fucking bloodline will stop them raping you? They'll do it twice as fast and take you back to King's Landing if you tell them you're a Stark and they should bloody respect you. Let Winterfell go, for god's sake, girl."
"I'm getting home if I have to walk every step of the way. I'll take it back and rebuild it myself even if I'm the one who has to mix mortar and put bricks together and I will kill you if you try and stop me!" Sansa let go of all her courtesies in one flush and that same rush of anger made her lift her hand and try to slap him. He caught her wrist with an even harder pain than before, and she could feel her lips shaking, her tears fighting to get out, a scream trying to surface. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Brienne and Arya standing by the trees, watching the argument spill out. In front of her Sandor was wearing that look of pity on his face which also screamed at her how stupid she was being. But she didn't care. She was a wolf. She needed a home.