A few days went past and Sansa was mostly enjoying the rediscovering of Winterfell. So much has changed since she was last here before. The weirwood looked even more majestic than it had at her departure, the whole godswood had some new charm about it. She was walking around it and noticed the spot where her father would always wash his blade after an execution. The same blade he was beheaded with. Gods know where that sword is now, she thought. One thing was certain for her. She would never see it again. That was good, in a way; she doubted she'd be good at executing people if she were to really become Queen in the North. A man who passes the sentence should wield the blade, her father used to say. What about when a woman passes the sentence, Father? What happens then? Does that woman have to wield the blade as if she was a man as well? Someone like her would hardly be able to lift such a blade, let alone kill a person with it. But she always heard how Valyrian swords were supposed to be extremely light, even a huge greatsword like Ice was. And they were said to be extremely sharp so that even after a thousand years or more the blade would still not be dull. She could wield that kind of a sword, she thought. But would she be able to bear the sight of an execution, especially after witnessing her father's?
Screaming snapped her out of her thoughts. Her guards bared their swords. She had learned to recognize the scream; it was Hosteen Frey again. Every morning a new soldier was found dead. Frey would always try to frame Wyman for it, but could never find enough evidence. However this day his fury was worse than usual. Was the victim another Frey? She told the guards to put the swords away and then walked out of the godswood and towards the court. Surely enough, the victim was Little Walder Frey. He was frozen and bloody. It really was a disgusting image, but Sansa had seen enough horror to not flinch at the sight of his body. Hosteen was, of course, livid with hate. And Wyman was on the receiving end of Hosteen's insults, unsurprisingly. Wyman didn't say anything until Hosteen stopped yelling, which took almost a whole hour's turn. Then he simply said "Whoever killed him probably blessed him. He would grow up to be a Frey if left alive." Then Hosteen became red in the face and started yelling again and it took a better part of another hour's turn. Sansa could barely hold back her laughter when she heard Wyman calmly tell Hosteen to bugger off and seeing Hosteen's reaction to it.
Roose Bolton came to the court and yelled for Hosteen to stop. He stopped within a heartbeat. Sansa could barely hold her laugh back again. Hosteen was merely Roose's lap dog in more ways than one. Roose was looking pretty serious, though; perhaps his famous leeching didn't quite cleanse him of the thick black blood that flowed in his heart. The blood she would spill not too long from now, she reminded herself with vengeance on her mind.
"My lords bannermen! Stannis Baratheon and his army is mere three days march from Winterfell. It is safe to assume he lost some men to the frost, but so have we. Probably not as many, but still quite a few. In other words, I declare that the wedding will take place today. The bard has arrived already and it would be a shame if we didn't have one at the wedding. Three days that Stannis has between here and him should be plenty time to get sober again. Let's not lose time, the wedding will take place in the godswood in an hour's turn. After that, there will be a feast in the Great Hall!"
Wyman muttered under his breath. "Aye, there will be a feast. And I will make sure you remember it for the rest of your days." Then he turned to Sansa and said "My lady, your guards and you should make your way to the Great Hall. Take the usual Manderly table. I have some… Arrangements to make before I can come there." Then he turned around and walked towards his tent.
When the married couple entered the Great Hall, Sansa almost fainted. Wyman was right. That girl isn't Arya. But I recognize her, she thought. I would be able to recognize that face fom across the Narrow Sea. How and why did Jeyne Poole come to act as Arya Stark? She turned to Wyman. She whispered as quietly as possible. "My lord, I want that bride to be left alive." Wyman just nodded and said nothing.
Three hour's turns later the feast was in full swing. Everybody was merry, the bard played happy and bawdy songs and wine and ale flowed like rarely before, Sansa noticed.
Wyman suddenly stood up. "My dear liege Lord Bolton! I have a special treat that I brought with me from White Harbour just for this occasion, if you please." Sansa looked around and saw three huge pies. Roose was watching with suspicion. It could be seen from afar that he doesn't trust Wyman on this one. "Meat pies, a special recipe from White Harbour. Pies this size are usually used for royal weddings and while this wedding isn't quite royal, it's likely as close as we in the North will ever get. So I made sure we had enough."
He started cutting the pie into pieces large enough to fit a plate and personally carried them to Roose, Ramsay and everybody else on the dais. After serving the dais, he said "Our friends from the Twins are very honourable guests, so they get to be next to get some of this specially made pie!" After he served most of the Frey lords, he yelled "Best pie you have ever tasted, my friends! Enjoy it. I know I shall. This is probably the last time for me to have a chance to taste a pie this good."
Roose and Hosteen were looking at Wyman with disgust and mistrust. Sansa noticed that Roose didn't eat a bite of the pie until Wyman had one himself.
A while later the bard seemed to run out of happy songs and he started singing mostly ballads. After the third ballad, Wyman, more jolly with every cup he emptied, told him to play 'The Rat Cook', which the bard gladly obeyed. Hosteen Frey was shooting daggers from his eyes when the song started playing. Sansa thought 'Feeling guilty, scum?' and joined in the singing. The feast continued long into the night and even Sansa had a cup of wine or two and was feeling a little bit dizzy. Her guards had drunk two cups each and Sansa felt bad for them. But when she urged them to drink more as she wasn't expecting trouble, one of them said "My lady, you are very important to Lord Manderly. We dare not disobey him and put you into trouble." Seeing that she won't make them drink more, she didn't bother trying again.
She got tired after the bard ran out of happy songs again and night crawled over Winterfell, so she decided to go to sleep. Her guards were quick to rise after her, as usual. They followed her to her tent and just as she was thinking of sending them away, someone jumped on her and pinned her under him. She screamed in fear, remembering very clearly how she nearly got raped in King's Landing. The guards grabbed the man as quickly as they could before he could do any damage to her, but still, after they beat the man and disposed of him, she was shaking. The shaking was so intense she could barely walk, so she staggered towards one of the guards and threw her hands around his chest, holding onto his armour with all her remaining strength. The guard put one of her hands around his shoulder, the other took the other hand and since they were taller than her, they carried her to her tent. She was silent the whole way, stream of tears running down her cheeks. They laid her down on her bed and finally she got back the ability to speak.
"Th-Thank you. I am indebted to you, my lords."
"Not at all, my lady. We swore Lord Manderly that we would protect you with our lives. What we did was our duty to our Queen."
Sansa got startled for a moment, then she remembered that the two guards were with her when Wyman told Howland and Hother her real identity. They must be very loyal to him, she thought. She then spoke in a quiet voice. "I suppose that no ill will befall me now, but just to be sure, would the two of you be so kind as to guard me tonight? The assailant caught me unawares."
The men just nodded and one of them walked out of the tent while the other one lay down close to her bed. "He'll guard for a while and I'll try to sleep. Then we will switch. In the case of emergency, the other will be awoken as well. You have nothing to worry, Your Grace. That's how we protected you the whole time here. Sleep well," he said.
"Sleep well, my lord." She then tried to sleep and before long she managed to lose consciousness.
She was on the throne of Winterfell, with her crown and her Queensguard around her. The doors of the Great Hall opened and through them stepped Rickon with his toddler walk. Sansa couldn't hold back the happiness as he went straight in her arms. He looked at her and said "I am glad you're home, Sansa." That simple sentence made her so happy she squeezed him tight and started crying tears of joy, but as she squeezed, Rickon disappeared and Bran appeared at the entrance. She didn't know what was happening. Bran walked towards her with his swift and sure steps. He got to her throne and kneeled before her. "Sansa, you look majestic. A true queen!" Then he stood up and as Sansa tried to hug him, he disappeared too. Now Arya was at the entrance and she showed Sansa her fighting moves as she got closer and closer to the throne. Then, at the throne she spoke. "My Queen. I vow to always protect you." She bowed and stepped closer to Sansa, then hugged her. When Sansa tried to return the embrace, Arya disappeared and Robb showed up. He walked towards her with a kingly grace and Sansa enjoyed it, hoping she would be able to be like that as well. His movement was sublime and as he approached the throne, Sansa stood up and Robb hugged her. "My dear sister, I know you'll be a good Queen." He let go. Sansa was crying and when she tried to hug him again, he disappeared and Jon started walking towards her. She didn't know what to expect from him. They never really got along with each other. He walked towards her in a straight line like the warrior he was now. At the throne he knelt. "Queen in the North. Sounds very nice. A true Stark, unlike me, destined to rule this land. May your reign be long and prosperous, half sister." Sansa hugged him, but Jon didn't evaporate like the others before him. After a while, she let go of Jon. He was smiling and tears ran down his cheeks. "Thank you, Sansa." He reached for her hand and Sansa reluctantly let him take it. He carried her hand to his mouth and just as he was about to kiss it, he disappeared like all the rest. Now Eddard and Catelyn walked down the way to the throne, smiling and hand in hand, as loving to one another as she had always remembered them. She couldn't hold back and ran towards them. She hugged them as tightly as she could. Eddard caressed her hair and said "My dear daughter a queen. I never dared dream of this. I'm proud, Sansa." Sansa was on the verge of crying like a baby now. Catelyn took Sansa's face in her hands and said "I have raised you to be a princess. You have overgrown that with becoming a queen. I hope you have remembered my lessons well, dear Sansa." Sansa was sobbing and trying to talk through her tears now. "Wait! Don't go yet! There's so much I have to tell you!" Eddard took her by the chin and said "We never leave. Nobody ever does." Sansa looked around her and saw all her siblings in a circle around her. All of them had their right hand on their hearts. Sansa looked at Eddard and Catelyn who had their hands on their hearts now as well. Catelyn spoke. "We are always here, Sansa. We will never be forgotten." Every one of them repeated after her like a canon. Then Eddard spoke again. "Winter is here. The North remembered. It always does. A wolf may never truly be tamed."
Sansa woke up. She felt something on her face. When she traced her fingers over it, she realized that it was her tears that froze on her cheeks. Winter is here, like her father told her in the dream. She was scared now. She heard screams outside. Her fear turned into wrath in an instant. "Hosteen Frey again? Does he have nothing better to do?"
One of her guards stood by her bed. "Your Grace, don't try to go outside. There's a battle going on."
Update! Warning: major deaths are coming.
As always, thank you for reading.