Chapter 2

Sansa I

It was so cold that she couldn't feel her face any more and the inside of her bones had turned to ice. Sansa wasn't enjoying the journey north. The slow pace of the horses through the thick snow meant there was too much time to think, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. There was little in the way of conversation between the three travellers, each of them listening intently for any sounds that would indicate pursuit, or a potential meal. The silence only served to shred her already frayed nerves and she knew that the red waste wouldn't be far enough away from Ramsay to feel safe.

It had been three days since she had said goodbye to Theon and it felt like a piece of what remained of her heart had left with him. That had surprised her. He'd betrayed Rob, saved Bran and Rickon but murdered two innocent farm boys, beheaded Sir Rodrik and then, of course, saved her. She had hated him when she first returned to Winterfell, was disgusted and repulsed by him until she experienced the full force of Ramsay's depravity on her wedding night. Every day thereafter her husband dedicated himself to finding new ways to break her and Theon had to watch her being raped, beaten and tortured time and again. The shame she felt at him having seen every intimate part of her body during the sexual acts Ramsay had forced her into almost swallowed her whole, but by making Theon watch, he was torturing him as much as he was her because he was powerless to stop Ramsay and Ramsay knew it.

It was a strange and intimate relationship that began to evolve between them and she realised that Theon was perhaps the only person who would ever truly understand what Ramsay had done to her. How he took away her identity as a Lady, as a woman and as a human being little piece by little piece until what remained was something that looked like Sansa Stark, but bore no other resemblance to her. Their understanding of one another was deep and unspoken, they didn't need to share horror stories and when he said he would have died to get her to the Wall she knew he had meant every word. It would have been selfish and cruel not to let him go home once she had Lady Brienne as her sworn sword and she hoped upon all hope that he would arrive safely and find the comfort than had not accompanied her return to Winterfell.

"My lady, it might be wise to rest the horses now and warm ourselves with a fire while we have light," Brienne offered "it will be dusk soon enough and we've travelled a good distance today".

Brienne dismounted, walked over to Sansa's horse and helped her down. Sansa felt embarrassed by it, she certainly didn't feel like a Lady anymore and it was strange to be treated as such. Especially by another Lady who also didn't consider herself one to the extent that she refused the title.

"I doubt they'll catch us now," Brienne said in an effort to reassure her "they'd be as hampered by the snow and cold as we are and we're closer to the Wall than Winterfell".

"Do you think it's possible that they might be able to get ahead of us somehow and lay in wait?"

"There's only one road to the Wall my Lady and they would be fools to try to go through the forest. It's too dense and they would never be able to get ahead of us".

Podrick had walked up behind Sansa and she nearly jumped out of her skin when he suddenly spoke.

"Shall I get some wood and build a fire milady?"

"Yes Pod" Brienne replied to him but was staring at Sansa. She knew Brienne had seen it and that she probably knew why so Sansa spoke before Brienne could.

"Is there any more you can tell me about my mother, or brother, from your time with them?" She wondered if she sounded like a child asking for a bedtime story.

"I didn't really know your brother" Brienne said thoughtfully as they walked over to a fallen tree to sit on. She brushed the snow off and Sansa helped her, not wanting to be waited on.

"I heard things about him though from your mother, and some of the soldiers at the camp. I knew that he was brave and it was clear he had earned the respect of his men by the way they spoke about him. He was obviously an excellent strategist if he had gotten the better of Tywin Lannister on the battlefield and I learnt that it was his bannermen that declared him King, it was not something he'd proposed and he had my respect for that".

"I didn't know that," Sansa said with a sad smile "but I suppose it doesn't surprise me, it reminds me of our father".

"I found your mother to be a strong, courageous woman who loved her children above all else. After King Renly died we fled the camp and when I learned that you and your sister were being held hostage in Kings Landing, I wanted to help your mother in any way I could so I pledged my sword to her".

"Did you not want to return to your home?" Sansa enquired having noted that Brienne had used the words 'fled' and 'died' instead of 'left' and 'murdered' which she would come back to when the right opportunity presented itself.

"I felt I was of more use to your mother my Lady, and now, to you."

It was clear to Sansa that Brienne was withholding information but she would bide her time. Sansa had perfected the art of patience and knew playing the innocent would likely serve her best in this situation. She would observe and listen until she better understood Lady Brienne and could ascertain what she was hiding and why. Sansa thought wistfully of a time when she trusted people and didn't need to wear a mask, but it was so long ago she could barely remember what it felt like.

Podrick had returned with a pile of sticks and began attempting to start a fire, she watched Brienne watching him and could sense both frustration and something akin to admiration which she found interesting as he didn't seem to be very skilled in the most basic tasks.

"Do you think we might have a fire before nightfall Pod?" Brienne enquired somewhat brusquely.

"Of course milady" said Podrick "and some food." That comment earned him a raised eyebrow.

"You must be looking forward to being reunited with your brother my Lady" Brienne commented. Sansa balked but covered it.

"Yes" she said with a big smile and promptly ended her line of enquiry by rising and walking over to Podrick. She knelt by the embryonic fire that he'd built, it was little more than smoke but had at least just caught.

"Is there anything exiting for dinner Podrick?" Sansa asked politely without any real hope of there being so.

"I'll see what I can rustle up Lady Stark" he said with a warm smile.

"May the Gods show us mercy" Brienne muttered under her breath in jest just loud enough for them both to hear.

After their small meal of snow rabbit broth which unfortunately consisted of hot water, very little meat and a few too many rabbit hairs, they settled in for the night. It was already dusk and the fire would need to be put out shortly so Sansa focused on getting as warm as she could, a challenge considering she was in the clothes she had leapt from the walls of Winterfell in and had only a meagre blanket around her shoulders. She curled herself into a tight ball, tucked the blanket in around her and placed her palms together, interlacing her fingers and holding them to her chest, close to her heart, as she often did when she needed to feel calm.

The wind had dropped and she was tired enough that she might sleep if it wasn't for the thought of seeing Jon again that just wouldn't leave her alone. Her farewell to him when he had first left for the Wall was painfully awkward. She had walked up to him in the yard and told him that she hoped everything would go well for him in the future. He had thanked her then she smiled politely, turned and walked away because she didn't know what else to say. Brienne rose from the fireside announcing that she would walk the outskirts of their small camp before the fire was put out. Sansa stared into the flames as darkness began to fall and tried not to think of Jon. She failed. What expression would he wear when he first saw her? Would he be disappointed it was her and not Arya? The last one stung and she closed her eyes tightly as if it would somehow make that thought go away.

Jon had been so close with her little sister, one could argue even closer than he had been to Rob, and Arya had worshipped him. Her face would light up whenever she was with him, she would get frustrated if she hadn't been able to spend as much time with him as she wanted and although Sansa was aware this upset her mother no end, Arya was oblivious. Perhaps this was the reason that Sansa had always kept her distance from Jon, so that it would make her mother happy and compensate for what, at the time, she had perceived as a lack of loyalty on her sister's part. Arya was old enough to understand that he was a bastard and what that meant but she just didn't care, she loved him fiercely and they seemed to share a closeness that Sansa had never experienced with any of her siblings. Her mother was her closest friend and it suddenly occurred to her that it was likely she had always been ever so slightly jealous of Jon.

She was trueborn and he had been closer to her brothers and sister than she was. He had an ease about him around people and apart from her mother, she couldn't think of a single person at Winterfell that didn't like him, as much as they tried to hide it, and perhaps none more so than her father. Sansa had always known Lord Eddard loved Jon dearly and he, in turn, was his bastard son's hero. To a certain extent, she had kept her father at arms-length because, as with Arya, it had seemed disloyal and she had told herself that it was inappropriate for her Lord father to feel that way. How ridiculous that seemed to her now, that he should dare to love his own son! It pained her to realise she had perhaps been more than just a little jealous and her lack of closeness to her siblings was predominantly of her own making.

Sansa heard footsteps crunching in the snow and her whole body tensed like a wild animal that suddenly realised it had been stalked and could do nothing but wait for the death blow. Her eyes stayed shut and she held her breath whilst listening intently for clues as the footsteps got nearer to her head. They stopped just a few short paces from her.

"Best put out the fire now Pod" said Brienne, "I'll be standing guard just over here."

Sansa let go of the breath she was holding very slowly so as not to show that she was awake and afraid. Part of her felt silly but this was how she operated now, always hiding what she truly felt, it had keep her alive and she no longer knew how to not do it. It has become instinct. She saw the light level change behind her eyelids as the fire died and listened carefully to the sounds in the snow so she would know where Brienne was. She tried to think of a happy memory to break her thoughts of Jon but anything happy involved all the people that were now dead or lost to her so she settled on praying to the Gods she no longer believed in for good weather, good food and a good sleep that she knew would not come. They would soon reach the Wall.

Authors note: I hope you feel I've captured how Sansa might be feeling, it's actually been quite hard to write because of what she's been through. This is my first fanfiction so if you have time to review, it would be much appreciated.