Sansa I

Ever since Sansa was a little girl, she wanted to be a lady. Now she WAS Lady!

After the royals rode forth with her father, she dreamt of her wolf every night. She hunted with her brothers and sister. She played with Joffrey. She saw more of the North than she ever dreamed.

It was real, she knew. Somehow, she knew.

She knew when Bran left, before they received the raven, before Father returned with the king, the prince, and her brothers. There was a sadness in her, deep and abiding, at being cut off from Bran and Charger. One of the pack was lost, forever. He went somewhere she couldn't follow for some purpose she couldn't guess.

Mother didn't believe her at first, but when Sansa and Arya's eyes met, they knew. Together, they knew.

So many had died. Poor Jory and Fat Tom fell at the Weeping Water. Hullen sickened when the weather turned and died of a fever. Now Bran was gone. Not dead, gone.

Winterfell was a queer place now, half-empty and silent. Mother watched and waited. She and Arya spoke without speaking. Little Rickon understood not at all, asking after Bran every day. When the moon turned again, they spotted banners on the horizon. Father had returned at last.

Even though the sun shone brightly, a shadow of melancholy fell over the castle. Thrice Mother had to be told about Bran. First from her, then the raven, and finally from Father's own lips. From then on, Mother feared the wolves.

That night, a raven came, which Maester Luwin placed in the king's hand himself.

***

After dinner, Mother and Father, the King and the prince, even Robb, held a secret council in the lord's solar. Sansa was not invited, but Lady could hear.

"I'm almost afraid to break the seal," Joffrey said. "It seems we've had a run of bad luck of late. What could go wrong next?"

"Have done with it, boy!" King Robert growled, making both Sansa and Lady flinch.

"Okay, okay, keep your pants on."

Her perfect prince, tall and handsome beyond anything she dared to dream, took out a dagger and opened the letter. Sansa did not doubt King Robert's valor, but he was big and loud and scary when barking out commands.

Joffrey, with plump pink lips she longed to kiss, and hair like spun gold, had been gentled by the queen's blood. All knew Cersei Lannister to be one of the great beauties of the realm. Small wonder she would bear such a son.

How gently he spoke to her! How he listened! The king's manner vexed him not at all.

"I'm sorry, Father, Lyra lost the babe," he said sadly.

The king heaved a long, tired sigh. "Would that I were there to comfort her. Lyra has guards and servants in plenty, but few friends. Ned and Alys came easily. I suppose good fortune couldn't last."

"I share your grief, Your Grace," Father said gently.

"Aye," was the only word the king said. So they'd both lost children in a short space. It didn't feel like a coincidence to Sansa. Part of her knew.

"Is there ought else?" Mother asked sharply, perhaps too sharply. This was a bastard they were speaking of, the child of a mistress. Bran was trueborn.

Yet, yet, Sansa knew she would cry over Jon, had he been lost. Ghost and Lady loved each other well. It was not always so. Of late, Sansa felt closer to her bastard brother in a way she couldn't explain. Mother would never understand.

"Much more," Joffrey answered gently, taking no offense. She loved him for it! "It says a woman claiming to be Daenerys, last of the Targaryens, has hatched dragons in the far east. She's taken a witch from Asshai for her Hand, and declared herself Queen of Slaver's Bay."

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"A fanciful story," Father said skeptically.

"The dragons are all dead!" Robb spoke up for the first time.

"Is it?" Joffrey asked. "I should've called giants and mammoths beasts out of myth just last year. Who is to say dragons don't still live on the far side of the world? We all saw Bran at the Wall before he left. He looked mad. Something was driving him mad, something unnatural. Powers we don't understand are moving. Even this, the wildlings making it past the wall in force, is surely not normal."

"I would've spared you this, Joff," Robert said, his voice cold and hard. "Gods, the dragons rising again. Monsters I slew when I was young have come back to take their revenge."

"If this is true, Slaver's Bay is beyond the Doom," Father pointed out. "Even Volantis is closer. A dragon across the water is no threat to us."

"Dragons fly, Ned!" Robert thundered, shaking the very room with his wrath.

"Father, please," the prince begged. "We need to think clearly right now. This could be an idle rumor, and then again, it could be true. Winter will be here soon, and it looks like a long one. If the last dragon has designs upon the Iron Throne, like as not, they'll keep till spring. Meanwhile, we must prepare."

Robert sat back down with a heavy thud, deflated. "My son speaks sense. It's past time we headed back. Well, Stark. You'd had time to think it over. What do you say?"

"Father, really. We can't expect Lord Stark to leave his home after he lost his son and saw his lands ravaged. There are others we could find for Hand, others closer to home."

No! No, please! Joff was too kind for his own good. Sansa sprang up from her bed, rushed across the hall, taking the steps to Father's solar two by two. Lady and Gray Wind sat together at the threshold, silent sentinels.

When she burst through the door, Mother looked stricken. "Sansa, what are you doing out of bed?"

"Father!" she cried. "Father, you must go! Joff needs me, I know it!"

He studied her for a long moment. "Something you know?" Father asked softly. "Like how you knew about Bran?"

She nodded furiously. She had to tell them. She had to make them understand. The prince looked shocked, like how he looked when Mother swore she knew about Bran before they ever sent a raven.

"Lady is outside the door, isn't she?" he asked.

"Yes! I heard with her ears! Arya can do it too, I know she can! What about you, Robb? Haven't you ever felt like you knew something Gray Wind knew?"

Mother turned stark white when she looked at her eldest son. When Robb nodded, her face constricted with anguish.

"There's so much about this world I don't understand," Joffrey said uneasily.

"Then we'll find out together! You and I are meant to be, my prince!"

The tall boy looked uncomfortable, helpless, and perhaps a little afraid, but that would pass. With Lady by her side, Sansa could help him in ways no other maiden could. Whatever awful thing might happen, dragons or winter or worse, she could help him.

"...Very well," Father agreed. "Robb is man enough to hold the North, and things should be quiet ere true winter comes. Robert needs me, Cat. This is one duty I cannot shirk."

"So be it," Mother replied bitterly, and fled from the room, almost stumbling over the wolves.