Sansa sat in the tub staring down at the water. She did not know if it had been a few minutes or several hours.
She could not feel the water around her. It looked fake to the touch as if it were a painting. Her entire room and everyone in it was a painting.
She raised her hand out of the water and could feel no sensation. She could not feel the coolness from the water or the droplets slide off her palms in between her fingers.
Her fingertips were wrinkled and resembled dried prunes. This could not be her hand. Her hands were smooth and delicate. It did not belong to her. It was not her own.
She slowly turned her head to take in the rest of the room. It was both her room and not.
She watched as figures moved in and out, bustling around her room with great speed. Their voices were muffled and she did not know if they spoke to her or each other.
At one point she saw a figure come to her side and they poured more water into the tub, although it was already full. She did not know if the water became hot or cool.
She spoke to the figures with a voice that was much too loud for her ears. She did not know what she said, but all the figures began to leave the room. All but one remained.
The one figure knelt down beside the tub. It was speaking to her, or rather this body. It was speaking to the body.
The voice was too fast and too quiet. It was all too much.
She looked back down at the water. The water began to feel cool. She could feel the water again. The body was shivering. This body must be very cold.
A hand came up from the water. No, this was her hand. It was her hand and her body, but it was not her body. It could not be her body.
Her body did not hold thin white scars that ran across her back and thighs. Her body did not hold bruises and aches.
This body was hurt and it was not hers. This was not her body.
The figure reached out and drew the body out of the tub. The body was shivering again, but fabric was being wrapped around it and it stilled. The figure helped the body from the tub before setting it down on the bed.
She watched the figure dart around the room moving much too quickly for her eyes.
The figure was before her again and they were putting clothes over the body. The clothes were covering the scars.
She could not see the scars anymore. They were gone. They were not there anymore.
The figure continued to speak to her. The voice was slowing down and she could start to hear what they said.
Sansa
Yes, that is my name. I am Sansa Stark.
The figure continued, speaking to her and she began to hear different words, repeating over and over again.
Sansa Stark. Your name is Sansa Stark. You are in Winterfell. You are in your room. I am your sister, Arya Stark. You are safe.
Sansa turned to face the figure and noticed her furrowed brow. She reached a finger to smooth out the wrinkles between her sister's forehead. Arya did not look very elegant when she frowned. She was much more beautiful when she was not scowling.
She could hear Arya speaking to her once more, "If you are poking me, I am assuming you are alright now."
Sansa did not respond.
"It is time to rest now, Sansa. Go to sleep, I will watch over you."
Yes, sleep. Sleep sounded wonderful. She would rest as her sister said. Arya will keep me safe.
She slept through most of the night until dawn nearly broke. Sansa Stark slowly awoke on her back, feeling much too hot and suffocated.
She opened her eyes and through the dim light of the rising sun, saw her sister snuggled against her left side. Arya's sharp elbow was dangerously close to her eye.
On her right Rickon lay with his head on her shoulder, she noticed a slight wetness and to her dismay felt drool under his chin. She looked beside Rickon, to see Bran sleeping silently, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath.
Further down at their feet she saw Jon curled into a ball on the left and Robb stretched out his head reaching the top of Rickon's foot on the right side of the bed.
She heard a snuffle and whine before it quickly quieted. Lady. She assumed the other direwolves slept on the floor.
Sansa peered further about the room looking at her door and saw her mother asleep in the chair next to it.
Light slowly flickered under her door until it was cracked open and a beam of light filtered into the room. It was her father.
She quickly closed her eyes, feigning sleep once more. She could hear her father's footsteps approach the bed.
He paused for some time and she felt a hand run through her hair before Rickon's weight was no longer pressed to her shoulder and side. She squinted slightly to see Rickon being carried in her father's arms.
She heard his footsteps leave the room.
He entered once more and took Bran this time. He kept leaving and returning back into the room. His footsteps echoing off her walls.
She felt something being jostled at the end of the bed and her father whispered something she could not hear. She heard Jon then Robb whisper back. She felt her brothers removing themselves from the bed leaving an indentation where they once were.
She did not hear her father's footsteps for some time and opened her eyes once more.
He was kneeling down gently brushing a hand over mother's face. He was smiling up at her with so much warmth in his eyes.
Her mother began to stir before he gently shushed her and picked her up from the chair. Her father moved through the doorway. His hand began to card through her mother's hair laying her head against his shoulder.
She could see them no more as they moved out of her sight down the hall.
Sansa twisted her arm around Arya's own, her sister still beside her. Sansa curled further into her side.
She felt Lady jump on the bed followed by Nymeria, while the rest of the wolves still slumbered.
Footsteps sounded once more and her father stood at the door staring at her. He knew she had been awake.
He gave her a soft smile and approached the right side of her bed.
He sat on the edge jostling the mattress slightly. Lady let out a grumbled protest.
Her father reached over and once more ran his hands through her hair. He had not done it since she was a little girl.
"Do not worry. I will not take Arya from you." He whispered, staring at her and her sister's entwined arms.
He got up from the bed and returned to the doorway.
"Get some rest, Sansa."
Sansa watched him close her door. She heard breath stirring beside her and found her sister awake.
They stared at one another for some time before Arya spoke.
"What happened last night, Sansa?"
Sansa looked away from her sister, focusing on the wall behind her.
"I don't know what's happening to me."
Arya paused. "You haven't been like that in a long time. Not since we were younger."
"Not since my fourteenth nameday."
"What happened Sansa? Tell me."
Sansa felt Lady curl into her back, while Nymeria was at her feet.
Sansa had wanted to take a bath, to wash away the day's stress and anxiety. The king had arrived that morning and they had held a feast in the evening.
Sansa's visions had continued along with her pounding headache. She persisted through the night smiling and engaging with the King's court, while trying to avoid conversation with the royal family. It was rather hard to do as they all shared the head table.
The night festivities were almost over and the crowd began to get drunk and drunker. She hoped her mother would let her leave, not wishing her to engage or witness the revelry.
Her mother had obliged and Sansa was quick to flee away from cold green eyes and angry gray. Away from the images that filtered through her sight.
"I wanted to take a bath after the feast. The maids drew my water and helped me undress, but they grew quiet and began muttering to one another."
Sansa paused, "I asked, 'What was wrong?' and they said, 'We just thought you were sick, not that you were injured my lady! We wondered why we had not seen you in over a fortnight.'"
Arya's brows furrowed and she watched as Sansa sat up.
"I asked what they were speaking of and they brought me to my mirror and I saw ."
Sansa stared at the wall and door. Seeing but not seeing what stood before her.
"Scars across my body, I had never seen before. I do not know where they came from. How I could have injured myself in that way."
Arya's eyes hardened and she sat up beside her sister.
"I thought the blood oath had merely aged me, but this...I don't know what this is and I'm frightened."
Arya remained silent. Nymeria stirred and laid her head in Sansa's lap. Sansa leaned over and buried her face into her fur.
"It did not feel real. It did not feel like my body."
Sansa turned her head in the direction of her sister, "I have been bathing myself these past few weeks and I did not notice. How could I not notice? Tonight though, tonight I did."
Sansa's chin began to wobble, "I don't want to feel like that again. It felt like I was in a painting. Like none of it was real. I wasn't real, but I was."
Tears began to fall out of her eyes and Arya wrapped an arm around her pulling Sansa into her embrace.
"I don't know what's happening to me. I thought this was a protection spell, some kind of gift, but now it feels like a curse."
Silence passed between the two of them. Sansa's tears continued to fall as Arya held her.
"I saw the scars when I helped you from the tub and dressed you."
Arya continued, "You went away tonight. Away in your head and you had not done that in such a long time. I did not know what to do."
Sansa closed her eyes trying to control her breathing.
"I went to find you, after you left the great hall and one of the maids found me on the way. They said you had been in the bath and would not come out or respond back to them."
Sansa listened to the sound of her sister's voice. The sound of it brought her calm, but her chest tightened at the words.
"I sat with you and you would not respond and would not stop staring down at the water."
"But you told the maids to leave. So quiet they could barely hear you. I told them to fetch mother, then I dressed you." Arya spoke quietly.
"Thank you, Arya. For helping me."
Her sister did not seem to hear her, "You were gone and I remembered what father used to tell you, when we were little and you would go away like that.
Arya turned to face her, "He would say what your name was, where you were and that you were safe."
You are safe Sansa. You are my daughter. A daughter of the north. You are in Winterfell not your dreams. Your family is here. We are here.
Sansa drew back from her sister, "It brought me back. You brought me back."
Arya looked down and an emotion Sansa could not identify passed over her features.
"I know how to wield a sword, shoot an arrow, use a dagger," Arya paused, "to protect us." Protect you was unspoken.
Arya tapped Sansa's forehead, "but I could not protect you from this. I don't know how."
"It is not your duty to protect me from this or any of it, Arya. Your duty is to be my sister, that's all I need."
"I don't know what to do. I feel helpless and that makes me angry," Arya grabbed her hand, " and then I feel...scared."
Silence fell between them once more.
"But I'm here Sansa, I'm here."
"That is enough. That is enough for me."
Sansa settled back down and Arya followed. Both girls curling around one another with their direwolves forming about them.
Her sister was beside her and her family had all come to her. It would be enough for this new dawn.
Ned could not stop thinking of his daughter and about the incident that occurred the night of the feast. A sennight had passed since the King's arrival. The days seemed to drag on without a hint of relief.
Ned did not have the time to dwell on her, yet did, as Robert sat before him. He had trouble focusing on the man, but needed to hear his words. He did not know if he would discuss Sansa's fate or his own.
"If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done."
What relief he felt when Robert could not come to Winterfell nearly three years ago to betroth Sansa and Joffrey. It was never to be and he hoped and waited in all that time for Sansa to find another.
He secretly searched for others amongst his bannermen. Someone who was brave, gentle, and strong.
Cat would not have it. Sansa would be queen even if it meant they must wait. That Sansa's prospect would waver the older she got, would be a hindrance overcome once she married the prince.
Ned complied to Catelyn, as he always did about Sansa. Still he hoped that the Lannisters and Robert would be against the match the more years that passed.
It was never official. Never fully recognized, but Catelyn was determined and enlisted the help of Petyr Baelish.
Ned sneered at the name, his gut roiling at the man aiding his wife and having anything to do with Sansa's betrothal.
Slimy he may be, but whatever the weasel did to convince Cersei or Robert of not bethrothing another young maiden to Joffrey, must have worked, or else Robert would not be standing before him now.
Ned did not want to comply with Cat's wishes regarding Sansa any more. Not since that night in the godswood as her sibling snuck her into the castle. Part of her reason for doing a "protection spell" was to avoid being wed to Joffrey Baratheon. Ned understood that now.
"I have sons as well, just as you have a daughter." Ned took a step closer to him, making sure no others would hear his words, "We can wed one of my sons to Myrcella. She is a sweet girl and one of my boys would be lucky to have her."
Myrcella was sweet and seemed to have none of her mother in her other than her looks. His boys would stay in the North and any of their brides would too.
Sansa would have to go South. Starks did not do well in the South and her prospective husband was completely different from his sister.
Joffrey was all Lannister. All arrogance and spite, but worse. So much worse if the whispers were to be true.
Ned was not one to listen to gossip, but he heard of Casterly Rock's gold being used to pay off and make sure wagging tongues stayed silent. Servants who were disposed of because of a mere spill against his woolen shirts. How animal carcasses that were horribly mutilated had to be removed from his room. He heard of prostitutes who never came back after a night with him.
How many southern families of small and great houses alike could not bear to part their daughters to him even if it meant all the power of a kingdom. Though some still tried.
Robert frowned deeply and he was already shaking his head, "No, Joffrey, he is…misguided and he needs a northern bride. It must be a northern bride. A Stark bride. A Baratheon man and a Stark woman. Just as it should have been."
Ned looked around his study and at the kingsguard that kept silent watch over them.
"Her mother would be more than pleased if she became Queen. Yet, my Sansa is getting on in years."
"Others take my wife, but it is all Cersei speaks of, since we have refused other prospects. Though littlefinger has spun quite the web in Sansa's favor. I assume I have Catelyn to thank for that."
Ned ignored his comment, pressing on, "Sansa is a bit older than you or the Queen would prefer, yes?"
"Aye, that is true. She needs to beget heirs, but then Cat has beget five of your own children and you both show no sign of stopping. That bodes well." The king gave him a lecherous smile.
The smile made Ned wonder about how many bastards Robert had in every corner of Westeros.
Ned let out a sigh and the King continued on.
"Then your other daughter, Arya should suffice I suppose. Cat should be happy to have one daughter as queen. It does not matter which one."
"No! That is to say, no, your Grace. Arya would not wish it. As you will come to see, she, well, becoming Joffrey's Queen would not be best for Arya."
Robert raised an eyebrow and asked, "I have heard her betrothals being broken five times."
Ned sighed a long suffering sigh. "It was not five, only three. Arya, well, she has wolf blood in her, just as Brandon did. Not many are equipped to handle it."
Robert laughed, "I am sure Lady Stark was very pleased at the broken betrothals."
Ned shuddered at the memory not wishing to even think about it. Cat had not been the only one who was angered as he had to face a few of his bannerman who raged at him. It had been rather difficult ever since then to find a prospective husband for Arya.
"Your Sansa though. She has never been betrothed. She has waited just as we have for Joffrey." Robert leaned into him, "How could such a long ugly face have a daughter like that."
"I might ask you the same, your Grace."
Robert let out a raucous laugh that seemed to shake the chair he was sitting in.
"Gods, Ned I need that. By the gods no one talks to me as you do." He took a large gulp from the wine goblet in front of him.
"This is why my boy needs a Stark. Except he will have a much better looking one than you. By the gods Ned your daughter, why I considered taking her as my…"
Robert wisely did not complete the sentence at the look on his friend's face.
Rober cleared his throat, "Then we will be brothers. True brothers as we were always meant to be. You are the brother I chose."
Ned remained silent still feeling anger coil in his gut at Robert's insinuation of his daughters. Robert would never understand Arya, nor Sansa, just as he never truly understood Lyanna.
Robert frowned once more, "Careful Ned, I may take your silence as denying the King his wishes. There are other things I must ask of you, but this must be settled first. We must speak of Jon Arryn's death." Robert paused intentionally letting Ned understand what was implied.
"Cersei will not let me rest, until the matter of Joff's proposal is resolved. One of your daughters and my son."
Ned's long face paled.
Robert placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, "Let us see what unfolds, perhaps the children should choose for themselves. Your Arya or your Sansa."
Sansa sat before the Queen, with her mother sitting beside her. They were located in the Queen's private rooms she had been staying in. She did her best to concentrate as the Queen spoke to her, asking Sansa questions as she had all morning.
A constant pounding ache at her temples was making it difficult for her to listen to what was said.
Not only that, but images continued to filter through her head unencumbered. Except these visions had become worse within the past week, as words now accompanied the brief flashes.
She stared into the Queen's green eyes, and her surroundings changed once more. Cersei sat before her, the sun shining through a large window in a room she had never seen before.
"Sansa, permit me to share a bit of womanly wisdom with you on this very special day. Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same."
The images faded and she was back before the Queen, in Winterfell and felt her mother squeeze her leg incessantly.
Sansa looked down avoiding the Queen's gaze and asked, "I am terribly sorry Your Grace, my mind was elsewhere. Would you mind repeating the question?"
"What could be more important than this conversation that you were lost in your mind." The Queen's voice was soft and saccharine.
Sansa's eyes returned to the Queen and her vision shifted once more. She saw contempt and utter hatred in the Queen's eyes as she swayed on her feet, drinking heavily from a goblet.
"Tears aren't a woman's only weapon. The best one is between your legs."
Sansa withheld her gasp as the scene faded away. She tried to maintain her smile, but knew that she was faltering.
"I am sorry, your Grace, nothing is more important than whatever you must say. I have been distracted as of late, filled with excitement for your long awaited arrival."
Sansa had never been a liar and was quite terrible at it. Yet the lies slipped out of her so easily.
"Is that so, little dove?"
Sansa felt her smile falter slightly before straightening in her seat.
Her mother interjected, "Perhaps you should join your siblings at the hunter's gate. I hear you are having a picnic near the wolfswood. We are nearly done here. If you do not mind at all, Your Grace."
The Queen merely smiled her false smile, "Perhaps that would be for the best, since our conversation seems to be too much for the little dove."
Sansa observed her mother's smile grow strained yet remained completely unaffected by the Queen's words and manner. If only she could borrow some of her mother's strength.
Cersei lifted a goblet and sipped from it, "I hear my Joff is to escort you to the gate."
Sansa's mood further plummeted, but she tried her best to cover it, "How gracious of him. I know it can only be because you raised him so."
Cersei's smile was sharp and her eyes glinted, "Thank you, little dove ."
Sansa quickly moved away after dipping a curtsy and repeating her final goodbyes.
As she moved out of the doorway, she heard her mother's fading voice say, "Sansa's menses began at age fourteen, if you require proof of her regular cycle…"
Sansa hurried faster down the hallway, her face blooming bright red at the conversation.
She made her way to the kitchens, taking the back way, hoping to avoid Joffrey entirely. She knew it was unladylike of her to do so, but she just wished to be with her siblings this day.
As she made her way down stone steps and into the dark hallway, she felt a heavy, burning gaze on her.
Her heart jumped in her chest at the sight of the Hound amongst the shadows staring directly at her.
She dipped her head and made to turn around, but heard a slight growl. It was not the growl of a direwolf. No, it was much worse, this was the growl of her little brother.
Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she saw Rickon, who appeared to be sneaking up behind the hound. Her eyes widened as her brother approached closer and closer.
The Hound turned and began to reach for her brother to do who knows what.
She quickly approached and scooped up Rickon who protested greatly. However this brought her directly in front of the Hound.
"I am sorry Ser, my little brother must have lost his way. He did not intend harm."
"I am no, Ser!" His voice rasped with anger.
Sansa shuddered at his voice. She felt a sense of relief and some guilt that his face was covered by the dark shadows.
Her vision shifted and she was no longer in the hallways at winterfell, but outside where the night sky sparkled with stars.
The Hound's face was inches before her own. Drunken eyes, sullen with anger held onto her arm, "the things I told you tonight," his voice was rough and slurred, "if you tell anyone I'll kill you."
She felt terror in her heart as the image and words faded.
"Mr. The Hound was teaching me how to ambush someone and you ruined it!"
Sansa froze.
The Hound… was teaching Rickon, how to ambush someone?
"He said it would be great practice."
Sansa could not make sense of the vision she saw, the anger in the Hound's eyes and what Rickon was telling her.
"I'm sorry. My brother and I need to meet our siblings. We will be on our way."
The Hound let out a laugh that sounded like the snarling of dogs.
"Chirp, Chirp, Chirp. The little bird wants to fly away."
Another vision this time, as she was yanked up by the Hound, "Save yourself some pain, girl, and give him what he wants."
The vision faded again and Sansa tried to breathe. Tried to will the images and words away.
The Hound continued in his snarl, "I am to escort you to the gate. Joffrey is waiting and we best not keep him longer."
"Sansa!" Rickon protested.
"Not another word, Rickon, please."
For once Rickon listened. She wondered if he sensed her fear or the weariness in her voice.
They traversed through the kitchens then the kennels, where both Shaggydog and Lady waited for them.
Rickon ran off towards Shaggy and quickly disappeared from view.
Lady approached her, but paused before turning around to face her unwanted guard.
The Hound's eyes widened at Lady's approach. She neared him till her long snout was pressed to his face. She saw the Hound flinch and then still as Lady's long tongue gave several swipes across his face.
The Hound was expressionless as he wiped the slobber from the good side of his face. He gave Lady some scratches behind her ears and the corner of his mouth twitched.
Lady leaned into him, her tongue falling out and panting happily against his side.
Traitor.
Sansa did not have much time to ponder the interaction because she saw Joffrey's shining, golden hair in the distance.
Further from him stood Arya, Bran, Rickon and Theon. Joffrey ignored them and her siblings appeared to be doing the same.
Her head pounded more and more with each step she took towards him. She did not want to speak with him. Her head always ached terribly when he was near, more so than his mother.
As she neared him she heard a voice distant and far away.
Leave her face, I like her pretty.
It sent chills down her spine.
Joffrey was before her, grabbing a hold of her wrist.
"My lady, I am here to send you off."
He placed a kiss where he held her wrist and she tried not to wrest herself from his grip.
Sansa glanced over his shoulder to see her siblings approaching them.
She needed to get through this interaction and then she could be with her family once more away from him, his mother, and everyone in Winterfell. Away from visions and words and her future.
"It is kind of you to think of me, your Grace. I am honored by your generosity."
Joffrey yanked on her arm, pulling her into his side as he squeezed her tightly and painfully in an awkward embrace. "I have thought of little else but you."
If Sansa were her younger self, her heart would flutter to hear those words. Now it only filled her with dread.
More words floated through her mind. She did not know if it was better or worse that images did not accompany it.
I'll get you with child as soon as you're able. If the first one is stupid, I'll chop off your head and find a smarter wife.
Her heart beat rapidly at the words and she could not help her gasp. She hoped Joffrey took it to mean she was overcome with his words.
Movement caught at the corner of her eye and she saw Theon trying to make his way over to them. Lady had joined the rest of her siblings and appeared to be pushing them back, Arya and Theon trying their best to dart around the direwolf.
Shaggy appeared to be creating openings for her siblings as he and Lady performed a weird dance of herding.
Joffrey smirked at the expressions on their faces as he pressed closer to her. He seemed to take in their anger and revel in it.
Is he doing all of this on purpose?
"You know, my Lady, my father had a conversation with me. He told me he was proud of me." Joffrey seemed to puff out his chest at the approval, "Because I will have a northern bride."
He tightened his hold on her and it began to hurt.
"I have waited for you. I have waited despite my mother's protests. I see now though, through my father." Joffrey's laugh was bitter, "It is all he speaks to me about."
Her body was trembling as he looked into her eyes. She tried to smile and look overcome. Her eyes could not hide her fear from him.
Joffrey leaned into her, bringing up a hand to her face. He stared into her fear filled eyes and his smile widened. He squeezed her all the tighter and she could no longer hold in her wince.
He watched her closely, taking in every expression. He closed his eyes and breathed an expression of bliss covering his face.
He opened his eyes once more taking in her fear and pain.
He is enjoying this. He is doing this on purpose.
His eyes looked her up and down. He released her and she felt relief, but he began to circle her slowly.
Like a prowling lion.
She tried to turn her head to keep her eyes on him at all times.
"I have been watching you and your sister since our arrival."
He did not touch her but his eyes followed up and down her body. She almost wished he would, the waiting was setting her heart racing.
Sir, Iyln bring me his head!
Terror froze within her as the words sounded in her head. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest and she suddenly could not breathe.
Joffrey stilled before her and held an outstretched hand. He placed it a hair's breadth away from her face, yet he did not touch her.
Joffrey carefully watched her reaction. He seemed to be playing with her. A cat who had caught a mouse that wanted to play with its dinner before eating it.
"Yes, I think I have made my choice now." He said under his breath though Sansa heard the words.
She noticed movement out of the corner of her eye and saw Theon and Arya had escaped from Lady who was pushing them back towards her brothers.
Theon's face held a queer look as he beheld Joffrey and then her expression.
Joffrey moved his hand down her face and neck to the end of her sleeve and stated, "My Lady, I think I see now what you think of me and of your mind. I am delighted."
Sansa could not withhold her shudder, which seemed to heighten Joffrey's excitement.
"As for your appearance, I cannot wait to dress you in the finery befitting a Queen of the South. The cut of the dress is quite different from your northern dresses. It is of a lower cut. You would be utterly ravishing. A true Queen."
Sansa pulled away, gathering herself and curtseyed low, "Thank you my prince, I will take your words to heart."
"See that you do. For you have such a pretty face and I like pretty faces."
Joffrey returned to the Hound's side. She could not discern the Hound's expression. Only that his eyes were intense and he did not look away from her until Joffrey called for him.
Sansa brought up a shaking hand to smooth her hair and dress.
"Sansa?"
She saw Theon approach first followed by Arya.
Theon reached out a hand towards her before withdrawing it. Many emotions covered over his face and he looked towards Joffrey retreating back, then back at her and down at his own hands.
"How dare he say that to you! Oh, I hate him Sansa! He is awful."
Sansa agreed with her sister and let out a breath. She was safe once more with her siblings.
Theon stood in silence. His mouth formed in a straight line and he looked at her once more. "Let us hurry, Jon and Robb have already picked out a spot."
Sansa made her way over to Bran and Rickon. Each of their eyes held heightened emotion and Sansa hoped she gave them both a reassuring smile.
Lady returned to her side and she and her siblings quietly made their way to her older brothers. They traversed through the gate and made their way through the woods.
Bran and Rickon ran ahead of them, though Sansa kept an eye on their movements. She could not hear their conversation, but heard Rickon babbling to Bran who nodded his head every once in a while.
She felt Arya's eyes on her and did her best to ignore it. She wanted to forget about the interaction with Joffrey just for a moment and enjoy her time with her siblings. Yet her heart would not stop its rapid beating.
"Sansa, what did he say to you? I saw him grab you!"
"Not right now, Arya."
"Sansa, you need to let us know what happened. I need to know if I should go back there and–."
"Not now, Arya. Just let me breathe." Sansa interjected sharply.
A hurt look passed over Arya's face before annoyance filled her own, "You have been keeping things to yourself."
Sansa let out a huff, "There has been a lot going on. If this is about the bathtub incident…"
"Of course this is about the bathtub incident and whatever just happened with Joffrey! You have been acting like it did not happen! You haven't said anything else about that night, or what has happened since then. We are worried about you Sansa."
"What bathtub incident?" Theon interjected, mouth still set in a straight line.
"I just need time. I need time to try to figure out what this all is."
"We are trying to figure things out too. You said you were having visions. Flashes of people and things you have never seen before. Maybe if you described it to us we could help."
"The bathtub incident. Visions? Sansa is having visions? What happened? What did I miss?" Theon's brows furrowed.
"Please, Arya, I can't even wrap my mind around what just happened with the prince, let alone my visions. I just want to enjoy my time with you all."
"We need to know what is happening, Sansa. We can't help you if you do not tell us anything!"
"Hello! Is anyone going to answer me?" Theon asked, anger coloring his voice.
"Shut up, Theon!" Sansa and Arya echoed together.
Some birds flapped out of the tree where they stopped. Flying away from their raised voices. Bran and Rickon continued on ahead unaware of the squabble occuring behind them.
Theon glared at both of them, "Seven hells! I don't need this right now. I don't need to deal with you spoiled Starks! I didn't have to come. Robb and Rickon forced me for our stupid Sansa defense small council."
"Hey! Watch it, Theon and it's called the SSG!"
"No! I am sick of this. You're talking about Sansa not sharing stuff with you? All of you Starks don't tell me anything! You didn't bring me to the godswood for the blood oath that night. I had to drag it out of Robb and Jon whatever happened. This is the first I am hearing of this bathtub incident and Sansa having visions?"
Theon kicked at the dirt and stomped off in the direction of Rickon and Bran. He stopped and whirled back around, "Also it's not called the SSG it's called the GSS! Stark Stark Greyjoy sounds too redundant!"
He stomped off again in the direction of her brothers.
"Gods, what is his problem?"
Sansa did not know and she did not have time to deal with Theon Greyjoy's sudden moodiness.
The sister's followed in silence. Tension still between them.
Jon and Robb sat before the shade of a tree laughing with one another, surrounded by furs and baskets filled with food and drink. Rickon and Bran had begun to pull out the food.
Her heart lightened at the sight and she felt as if she could finally breathe.
Robb and Jon's laughter quieted at their approach and they noticed the silence from Sansa, Arya, and Theon who stood away from them.
"What happened to you all?"
Arya glared at Sansa who glared back. Theon glared at the both of them.
"Okay, great. Not speaking to one another. Picking up on that." Robb stated as he watched Jon prepare a plate for Bran and Rickon.
Sansa huffed and turned from Arya, but felt her sister's eyes on her.
"Joffrey grabbed Sansa and I did not hear all of what he said to her, but she was scared and won't tell us!"
"I told you Arya! I just need a break!" Sansa huffed out anger suffusing her tone and reached her limit.
"I don't want to think about him or his creepy stares and touch or what he said to me. I don't want to think about mother trying to prove to the Queen that I can beget an heir for the throne. I don't want to think anymore about these stupid visions and words that fill my head every time I see someone from the royal family or kings court! I am scared and I don't want to be!"
Sansa let out gasping breaths, her voice raising until she shouted the last words.
Her family stared at her with wide eyes but she noticed a small smile cross Arya's face.
She would never tell Arya because that would mean she was right, but Sansa felt a weight lift off of her shoulders and chest at the admittance.
"You did this on purpose." Sansa accused.
"No I didn't! You really did annoy me and you need to tell us what is happening!" her sister's smile stretched, "You feel better don't you?"
Sansa stuck her nose in the air and sniffed turning away from Arya.
"Come on Sansa! I'll make it up to you. Anything you want." Arya bounced around her trying to get Sansa to look at her.
Sansa peered over at her sister, "anything?"
"Well, now I'm regretting saying so." Arya stilled at the look in her sister's eyes.
Sansa was the one to smile now. "You'll let me do your hair and pick out your attire for the feast this evening!"
Arya groaned but conceded, allowing Sansa to position them beside the furs next to Robb. Sansa sat behind her on the furs and began to comb her fingers through her hair.
Their argument and subsequent anger with one another forgotten.
Time passed and the sun continued to rise high into the clouded sky.
Sansa began to weave a flower crown from the wildflowers beside them. Intending to place it upon Arya's head and throughout her hair.
The rest of her family member's lay back either eating or enjoying the silence of the late afternoon.
Their direwolves had left in a pack, presumably hunting for their own food. The siblings were not worried, their direwolves would always return to them.
Theon sat off to the side away from the Starks, seemingly ignoring them all and let out a huff of breath every now and then.
The Starks let him be for a time until Robb sat beside him, intent on trying to resolve what had him ignoring them all.
"Theon? What's with you? You've been sulking since you got here." Robb stated, "Sansa and Arya seemed to resolve their issues. What's yours?"
He looked over at Arya pulling out a flower from her hair and being scolded by Sansa, which then caused Arya to roll her eyes before placing the flower back in its place once more.
Rickon had begun to place his own flower creation haphazardly throughout Jon's hair. Jon was building his own flower crown and held it up for Sansa's approval, which she gave an affirmative nod.
Bran was climbing the tree above them and nearly fell, but caught himself on a lower branch and returned to the ground beside Rickon.
Theon looked down at his scuffed boots, his brow heavily furrowed, "Why did you not tell me what happened with Sansa?"
Jon turned towards Theon and looked at Robb, eyebrows raised. "It was after the celebration feast that first night. We just spent the night in her room, like we have when we were kids. The next morning Sansa told us she'd been seeing these brief flashes of images. We have been trying to figure out why."
"The SSPABBATWWCHH is on the case!" Bran stated.
Robb snorted, "still such a stupid name."
"SSG is much better!" Rickon stated, "and we're going to find out faster than you!"
"Quicker, Rickon, not faster. You are not racing." Sansa interjected.
Theon frowned further and mumbled something under his breath before saying, "Why did you not come and get me, that night?"
"You seemed rather, well, busy. " Jon coughed thinking of Theon rather engaged with one of Princess Myrcella's handmaiden.
"If one of you had told me. I would have gone. Just like I would have the night of the godswood."
"We did try to find you Theon, but Robb said you were in Wintertown." Arya said, blowing on a strand of hair that fell in her face. Sansa brushed it back, continuing to plait her hair and weave the flowers throughout it.
"Aye, I was, but if one of you had fetched me, I would have been there."
Robb stood, "What are you really angry about Greyjoy?"
Theon scoffed at the name and stood. He began to walk deeper into the woods.
"Should we go after him?" Bran asked.
Robb frowned, "No, let him cool off. Maybe he will tell us then."
Rickon rolled his eyes blowing on a dandelion, its white seedheads floating on the wind, "I don't know why he's so upset. It's not our fault he was not there."
"There is more going on then just that." Jon quietly observed.
Footsteps were heard and they saw Theon begin to stomp back. His chest moving up and down with his breaths.
Robb raised an eyebrow, "That was rather quick. Ready to finally tell us what-"
"I am no more a Grejoy than I am a Stark!" Theon interjected suddenly, "I have not been home since I was eight years old. I don't know if I really know what home is."
Theon scuffed his boot against the dirt. Dust flying up around him.
"I never felt safe in my home. Never felt safe coming here. I am just a ward, a pretty word for a hostage."
"That's not true, Theon!"
"Yes it is! I have not been safe. I did not feel safe, until the night of a terrible thunderstorm in Winterfell. I had not been there long. It reminded me of Pyke and I could not sleep. I went to your parents' rooms and you were already there."
Theon looked up at them, "Your father beckoned me and laid me beside him. You all slept beside me as if it was nothing. As if I was your true brother, another sibling. Another Stark."
He scuffed his boots again, looking down at the dust that continued to billow, "I never knew I could feel so safe until that moment. We continued sleeping like that until Sansa could sleep on her own. I did not realize what it was like to have a family. A true family that did not make you cower in fear at their very breath."
Theon shook his head and spat on the ground.
"Then why are you so angry with us, Theon?" Bran spoke up with confusion on his face.
Theon's face held anger once more. "I don't know. I don't have any reason or right to be, but I am! It's just, I want to know how I can help. That I can be there for you all, like you were for me... Especially with that bastard, Joffrey!"
He turned to face Sansa and she moved her hands out of Arya's hair.
"I have been watching you and the prince and you always seem so uncomfortable and frightened by him. No one would notice if they did not know you. And you…You have looked at me like that before."
Theon looked down, his anger turning to shame.
Ah, there it is. Sansa thought to herself. Anger is much easier to feel than guilt.
"I have listened to how he speaks to you and overheard what he says when you are not around… and I have said similar." Theon's face was filled with unnamed emotions, "the same things as that twat."
He kicked the ground and seemed to steel himself.
"I am sorry Sansa. I should not have spoken to you that way or treated you like that."
All Sansa could do was nod. Surprised at his sudden apology and wondering if there was any truth to it. He seemed utterly sincere, but then again, she had never known a sincere Theon. He had not bared his heart like this before at least not before all of the siblings.
Still, she did not know how to feel. Theon was like a brother, he teased her, but was always the only one who volunteered to dance with her. When she would have to beg Robb or Jon to do so.
He would make her laugh when she cried. When they were younger, they would whisper to one another of their nightmares, knowing that they were not alone in their dreams.
He also made her uncomfortable. The way he stared at her as she got older. When he would hug her too tightly. He never did anything beyond that, but it still made her feel like he wanted more than a brother would. She did not want that, she did not want his leering gaze or his tight embraces.
He had commented on her body and made it out to be a laugh. When Sansa did not feel like laughing at all.
He was a part of her pack and yet he was not.
"Then prove you are different, Theon Greyjoy." Sansa said.
She could not name what emotions went across Theon's face, but he placed a fist to his chest with a thud and nodded.
Jon spoke then, "I know better than anyone what it is like to not feel like a Stark. It does not matter what your name is, but if being in this family has taught me anything, it is that you need to lead with honor and trust. Winter is coming and we will need one another for it."
"When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Greyjoy or Stark, you are a part of our pack." Robb said.
Theon's eyes appeared to water though he turned his face away so they could not see it.
"Winterfell is my home. Not a true home, but the best I ever knew. I will try to prove that to you Starks. Gods, look at what you've already done to me. I am crying like a bloody babe for mother's milk." He wiped his eyes.
"Perhaps I need to find a pair of teats as well."
Well, people did not change in a day.
Sansa watched as Theon was tackled by Robb and began to wrestle him to the ground. Arya threw herself onto the pile, while Rickon ran around them in circles. Jon sat back laughing at the sight, while Bran tried to shout out instructions over Theon's cackling and screams.
That would have to be enough for now, until an opportunity presented itself for Theon to prove himself.
She noticed Arya's hair would need to be re-plaited and flowers put back. Rickon had joined in the pile and was picked up by Jon who swung him up on his shoulders. Arya had Robb down on the ground and in a chokehold as Theon laughed next to them. Bran was picking up the flowers that fell out of everyone's hair.
Sansa stared at her wild siblings and could not help but laugh. Her heart felt lighter than it had in weeks and she smiled brightly.
A voice inside of her whispered pack pack pack.