High in the halls of the kings who are gone
Jenny would dance with her ghosts
Sansa could truly feel her age as she descended the stairs to crypts. Her body was old, her mind, though still sharp as Valyrian steel, was too weary, and her heart had known too much loss.
The crypts had always been sacred to the Starks. The presence of the old kings of winter and the late lords of Winterfell felt strong in there. When Sansa was a child, she was quite afraid when she and her siblings sneaked in the crypts to play. Later, when she returned to her home after everything, they became her place of solace and quiet reflection. And now, they were the last home of so many of her loved one. Sansa looked at their faces, lost to her for so long, only the memories of them always with her, haunting her like ghosts. She felt… no, she knew she would soon be with them again.
The ones she had lost and the ones she had found
And the ones who had loved her the most
Sansa looked at her grandfather Rickard, uncle Brandon and aunt Lyanna, taken before she was even born, yet she felt like she knew all of them. Did they know their deaths had torn the world apart in war and heartbreak?
Her dear father, whose unfaltering honor had become his doom, and yet, faced with the choice of spoiling his name, spitting on his fabled honor and protecting all that was left of his only sister, he had forsaken his honor and chose the love for Lyanna and her son. Did he know how much his whole family had loved him and what his death had done to all of them?
Robb, oh, her precious Robb, who could never bear to see her tears when they were children and always tried to make her smile instead. Did he know that to this day, her eyes oft filled with tears when she thought of him, butchered and betrayed?
Rickon, the baby brother she had held right after he was born, who had made a little girl dream of being a mother herself one day. Did he know how much she hated herself for giving up on him?
The ones who'd been gone for so very long
She couldn't remember their names
Sansa had lost so many people. Loyal allies, dear friends, precious family, beloved husband, even a grandbabe of not even seven namedays. She closed her eyes, and she saw many of their faces – Theon, Jeyne, septa Mordane, master Luwin, Lady, Margery, Meera, Podrick, Tyrion and so many more. Was it fair that all of them were gone while she had survived, did she deserve it?
They spun her around on the damp old stones
Spun away all her sorrow and pain
There had been a time when she thought pain was all she would have, when the losses of her family, the crash of her childhood dreams of songs and legends and of the goodness of people had still been too raw, too recent. Back then, even thinking about the people she had lost caused her heart to tear. Now, most of the times, remembering them brought Sansa peace and warmth. Not that she didn't miss them. Gods, Old and New, knew she did. But in her now old age, she felt closer to them. Maybe because she knew it would not be long before she joined them.
And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave
Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave
They were with her still in her dreams.
She dreamed of her childhood, of her parents and siblings, all of them playing together in the summer snows.
She dreamed of nights of dancing, and laughter and friendly japes with her friends.
She dreamed of laying with her first love again, of relishing the feeling of kissing his scars and letting him kiss hers.
She dreamed of looking in the blue eyes of the most honorable woman the world had ever known and thanking her for everything she had done for them all.
She dreamed of telling the only person who had known what she had gone through in her own home of the songs that were sung of his heroism and of the nephew named after him.
She dreamed of holding her beautiful husband one more time, hearing him whisper her name in her ear, once more so utterly at peace and in the same so much on fire, like only he had been able to make her feel.
She dreamed of having all those she loved and lost with her around the fire in the Great Hall.
Those dreams, she did not like waking from.
They danced through the day
And into the night through the snow that swept through the hall
From winter to summer then winter again
'Til the walls did crumble and fall
Sansa knew she had been blessed to have her two beautiful children that she was so proud of and her precious grandbabes and great-grandbabes. To have the most loyal bannermen and advisors. To have her sister visit between the adventures she still engaged on, even in her advanced age. To know her brother became more and more himself through the years and he had made them all proud with what he had accomplished in the south. But still, too often, Sansa spent her time in thoughts of those who had long been gone from the world. And as the years passed, as they grew more and more in numbers, so did the hours she spent with them in her thoughts.
And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave
Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave
And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave
Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave
Sansa did not long for death. She had too many beautiful things in her life. And she had learned to appreciate every second the gods were willing to give her. So, she made sure to spoil the little ones as much as she could, to assure her children how proud she was of them, to jape with her few remaining friends, to appreciate the color of the winter roses and the leaves of the weirwood tree, to revel in the sound of her footsteps in the snow. She had a good life. Of course she loved it. She lived it fully. But at the same time, she felt more and more as the biggest part of her was already in the realms of the dead. And that did not scare or sadden her. Sansa was, and had been for a while now, simply at peace with the knowledge that death would soon be coming for her.
High in the halls of the kings who are gone
Jenny would dance with her ghosts
Sansa thought of Brienne. Oh, her fierce protector and her dearest friend, loyal and beautiful in all the ways that mattered. Did she know what a hole she had left behind in her father, in Podrick, in Sansa herself, in Jaime? Did she know just how much she was loved? Did she know she and Jaime had kept her memory alive? Did she know how much she had given them both?
The ones she had lost and the ones she had found
And Jon… Oh, brave, gentle, strong Jon, who had been her salvation in so many ways. Did he know that despite the love and happiness that had followed, one that she cherished and was proud to claim, she still missed him, still dreamed of him, still felt like she somehow had betrayed him by feeling such joy after he had been taken from her? Did he know that Jaime had always told Robb that he saw the best parts of Jon in him?
And the ones
Who had loved her the most
Jaime. Her Jaime. Her greatest strength, her calm in all the storms. Her biggest admirer and her voice of reason. Her light in all the darkness that surrounded her. The man most hated by the world and most beloved by the rare few who truly knew him. Her walking paradox of a man. Did he know how much their children still missed him and needed his guidance? Did he know that the reason she knew how to be happy after so much loss, especially after losing him, is because he was the one who had shown her happiness in the wake of devastation?
Sansa looked around the crypts again, at all her ghosts – both those who had been laid there and those who had not been. She smiled and climbed the stairs. It would be the last time she walked those stairs.