Chapter Text
The snow fell lightly this morning, each day was becoming colder than the next. Thank goodness, Winterfell is still getting several hours of light each day. A gray light but light. The ravens had come from Old Town, announcing that winter was no longer coming, winter was here.
Sansa and Jon had been at Winterfell not even a week. It was fitting that the Stark Princess and her bastard half-brother brought winter with them when they retook their home.
Sansa had watched as they took Rickon's body to the crypts the day of the battle. It is our duty, she thought Jon and mine to give him a proper burial. She must insist on giving him the rites and honoring their brother today. It had been put it off far too long.
Jon was declared King in the North the two days after the battle. After which he immediately gave her the title, Lady of Winterfell, Princess in the North. The lost bannermen were sent home to their families with instructions to burn all bodies. The Bolton's dead had been burned 2 days ago. It was time to put the battle behind them for there was sure to be more to come.
Now, Sansa stood observing Jon this morning with snowflakes swirling around her as she had been doing for the past three. Still exhausted from the battle, yet he practiced furiously with a grace she had never witnessed in any swordsman. Maybe, it was that Sansa had never noticed his fighting before. As children, she had spent time with her needles, unlike Arya who wanted to fight as much as the boys. What good will my needles do me now? She never had a taste for blood but when she watched the Knights of the Vale ride into battle she wished she had learned to carry a sword like Brienne or her sister. When they set Ramsey's dogs on him, she imagined herself, Lady reborn tearing his face apart.
So she watched her brother, studying his movements. She wanted to feel safe here at Winterfell with Jon. She knew they were not safe. Not with Littlefinger here inside their walls, Cersei in the south and whatever Jon insists is on the other side of the wall moving towards the realm.
Leaving the battlements, walking to the great hall where the pair had taken to breaking their fast before the others. Littlefinger has stayed on while his troops recover. Lord Davos is here and many of the bannermen including the little bear, Lyanna Mormont who reminded her so much of Arya. Sansa was glad to have them yet she was not at ease amongst these advisors. It is easier to speak with Jon when the castle was quiet. Her plan was to speak with him this morning about Rickon. It must be done.
Jon entered the hall just after she did taking his place across from her. This was becoming the best part of her day. The gray winter light came in through the great windows soon this would be the only light they would get after that there would be no light at all. It reflected on Jon's dark curls that he pulled back from his face much like their father. Was this what my mother saw when they were young? Sansa wondered.
"Did I win the battle this morning?" He greeted her with a half smile.
"You saw me?" she asked.
"Hard to miss that red hair." He laughed. "It's brighter than the sun these days. Might blind me if I'm not careful."
"I want to make sure you don't mistake a bannerman for a battering dummy," she claimed.
"Well, I will if ya blind me," he responded.
They both smiled and laughed. Sitting there with him, Sansa could almost pretend all of the horrible things had never happened. That they were like her mother and father before she went to the capital. Thinking of her parents brought her back to Rickon. His body laying in the cold dark crypt in the place that had been designated for him next to his father's place, Robb's, both still empty, and the spot left for Bran.
"Jon we must give Rickon the proper rights. We are all he had left." Sansa continued, "It is our duty."
"I know," Jon replied.
"He is in the crypt. His body has been washed. The stonemason will come today to bring the marker." Sansa said not relenting without a firm answer from him.
"I know," he said again.
Sansa looked at him firmly. "Today," she added.
"I know," his voice growing tense.
"We can't wait to find Arya and Bran even if they are still alive. This is our family," she pressed on, He just stared back at her and continued to push the food around on his plate. Food he hardly ate just pushed around. Sansa was no longer a child, the horrors she had experienced gave her a command in her requests. Jon could hardly refuse no matter how much he did not want to go down to the crypts.
"Today," he said, softly.
Sansa realized Jon was scared of the crypts. They had played there as children and she had been the one who was afraid. She didn't like it when her Lord Father made them go down to pay their respects to their ancestors. She had been so jealous father never made him come with them. She thought it was because he was a bastard. When they were children he was never afraid now as a man so brave in every other way he was afraid of the crypts. She almost laughed to herself.
"I didn't like the crypts when we were young. I was jealous, Father never made you go down." Sansa said with kindness trying to ease his discomfort.
She gazed at the sad smile Jon gave her while he was getting up from the table just as Littlefinger and Lord Davos were entering the hall.
As he leaned over her to kiss her forehead and take his leave, like a conspirator, whispering she added, "And I'd be afraid to go down there if I had come back from the dead too. The crypts might decide they want you back."
"And what would you do if they did?" he asked slyly.
"I'd set a pack of dogs on anyone who tries to take you," she responded.
At that they both smiled "Today," he said running his hand from the top of her head. Touching her hair slightly.
The gesture only lasted a moment, Sansa wished it could last longer. Yet, the risk was too great. Sansa knew Littlefinger must not see her too comfortable around Jon. She feared what he would do to both of them if he thought she was closer to Jon then to him. She no longer had any friends, no one to laugh with or share secrets with. Jeyne Poole was long gone, Queen Margaery had been her friend, well maybe not a friend at least she had been a friendly person to talk with. It pained her to think what had happened to the young Queen and her brother. That will not be us. We will freeze in the winter snow before we burn.
Littlefinger had entered the room and took a place across from Sansa at the table watching Jon as he walked out of the hall. She can see it now in his slyness, his false praise, he hates Jon, he hates their family. Everyone who wasn't her Mother, every Stark that took Lady Catelyn from him. For that matter, Sansa reflected that her lady mother would be full of hate to see Jon declared King in the North while two of her sons were dead in the ground. Or maybe she would blame herself. There are days Sansa wonders if it was Catelyn's hatred of Jon that brought this on their family. If Jon would've been with Robb maybe they had would've lived. Then she sees Littlefinger sitting at the table cutting his bread and remembers nothing is that simple.
"Lord Baelish, Lord Davos, we will give Rickon the proper rights today," she said.
"That is good, Princess. Your brother deserves an honorable place with the kings and lords of Winterfell after the horrors he must have seen." Lord Davos said in that kindly way of his.
"The resting place of kings and lords and Lyanna Stark." reminded Littlefinger. "I always wondered why Ned Stark felt she deserved a place there. She wasn't a queen or even a princess." Looking at Sansa while he spoke, "And yet she rests among the great kings of Winter."
Sansa said nothing at that and got up to leave. He was right she thought. What right does Lyanna have to lay there with a statue to honor her? He is trying to provoke her, trying to make her hate her own father. To question her family. Cersei, Joffrey, they had all tried to make her hate her family. Family, Duty, Honor, her lady mother's house words were constants in Sansa's mind. Except, they were her lady mother's words not hers. Sansa never felt more like a Stark than now, now that winter was here. The pack survives even in death. Lyanna is part of our pack. That is why Father put her down there.
The morning wore on painfully slow. Taking to overseeing the castle repairs, there was much for Sansa to do before the blizzards come and it is too cold to work. Jon oversees their bannermen and his own forces, drilling them every morning, seeing to their needs. Brother and sister together take stock of the grain and the finances. None of this was her strong suit, despite all she has become a quick study. Necessity has brought out a side of the Princess she never thought she had. Sansa thought as she walked the halls that she was not meant for this. She was meant to look pretty, host parties, and bare children. Here she was though a lady, no a princess of this ancient castle with responsibilities to the people not only within its walls but in all the North. In the afternoons, they discuss the future and how to protect the north from their enemies usually with Lord Davos, Lady Mormont and on occasion Littlefinger and the wildling leader Tormund Giantsbane. Sansa has insisted Jon take her into his confidence. After the others leave they study strategy or write letters quietly. This afternoon instead of battle plans they will bury Rickon.
As Sansa was walking to Jon's solar that afternoon, she saw Lord Davos approaching her. He looked pensive as he stopped just outside Jon's door.
"May I ask you a favor, Princess?" he asked.
"Yes, of course" she replied.
"The crypts of Winterfell are for kings and lords and ladies. Could you find a small space for a princess without a place to rest?" he continued.
"You friend, Princess Shireen.?" she asked.
"She died here in the north. I fear I will never make it back to Dragonstone to give her a proper burial." Holding out a small wooden stag, Davos said, "This is all that is left of her."
Tears began to well in Sansa's eyes, how cruel a world it was that a father would burn his own daughter. Now, her one friend wanted to see that she was honored.
"Of course. She was a princess who died on our lands. She must be honored." Sansa stated. " It was my father's wish that the Stark and Baratheon houses be joined even if it is only in death. I will look for a proper place in the crypts for her. You can honor her tomorrow." Sansa said as she rested a hand on the onion knights arm.
Sansa and Jon walked slowly to the crypt with Ghost following them. She teased him, "Which do you like least going to the crypt or getting your hair cut?" He laughed at that and grabbed her hand. His was warm and she felt a tingle, the same one she feels when he kisses her forehead or touches her hair each morning. You aren't supposed to feel this for a brother or even a "half brother" so she tried to put the thoughts out of her head. Just the last remnants of the girl she used to be, the girl who dreamed of marrying a king and of being a queen.
Or maybe it was because we were distant as children. She kept away because of her mother, her septa, and was sorry for that now. Now that she knew what it is to have lost a mother, the emptiness that is inside you. They were the only ones left, she wished she could fill the emptiness for both of them.
The crypts were dark with torches lighting the arched tunnels. They passed the Kings of Winter and Lords of Winterfell finally coming to the place for her family. They looked upon Rickon, lit the candles, said the words, then moved to light a candle for their father whose statue was there but not his bones.
"When we were children, I begged father not to take me. That my dresses would get dirty." Sansa confided to Jon. "Now, I come to see him even though he is not really here. I wish we could bury my lady mother, too. So, I could see her. To not know where she lays. Is she at peace or a ghost haunting the countryside?" She turned toward Jon "I never understood what it was like for you. I thought maybe it was your fault that you didn't have a mother, that my mother was angry. Then I blamed our father. Now I miss them both." She felt Jon's hands moving along her arms.
"I miss our family, too," he told her.
"I'm so sorry Jon." she continued as they paused at Lyanna's statue.
"For what?" he asked.
"Everything that has happened to us," Sansa said.
He cupped her face with both his hands looking straight into her eyes. Eyes so like father's and Arya's yet completely his own. If only he would keep holding her face like that never letting go. What was this feeling? It was confusing, he was her half-brother. Their faces were so close. If she just leaned forward a little they would be kissing.
"None of it was your fault," he said firmly. "We were just children. Father made his choice, your mother her's. My mother her's." Holding and staring into her eyes. Suddenly, Sansa felt him let go if remembering she was his half-sister.
As they walked away toward the entrance, Sansa turned back to look at Lyanna's image. Something caught the light, twinkling. Tiny drops of water like tears streaming down her face. From deeper in the crypt, Sansa heard the sound of a rock drop.
"What was that?" Jon said startled.
She walked toward the sound as if she was being pulled. One entrance to part of the crypt had long since caved in. It was only a rock that had fallen from that wall forming the perfect small shelf. Placing a hand on the shelf, one could peer into the hole that had been left by the falling rock. Sansa thought she saw an empty room with something laying in the corner.
"Sansa, we need to leave" he called to her anxiously.
Turning away, she quickly ran to join him up into what was left of the cold afternoon light. That night she fell asleep in her lady mother and lord father's room with the thought of Jon's warm hands on her cheeks, in her hair, his kisses on her forehead. She woke sweating, breathing heavily. Jon was doing the things Ramsey did to her only it didn't hurt, only she liked it, she wanted it.
That morning she laid in bed, going to breakfast later than usual, arriving as Jon was leaving.
"You wear yourself out last night?" he joked.
"Very funny," Sansa said hesitantly.
"Ahh a princess needs her beauty rest every once in awhile. I gave those dummies an extra good beating for you this morning. I think they missed ya, though." He said lightly.
Jon left Sansa to eat by herself lost in her own thoughts. As she was leaving she passed Lord Davos.
"There is a little outcrop in the fallen wall. You can honor your princess there," she whispered gently to him, "Go, pay your respects."
"Thank you, Princess Sansa, you are truly kind," Lord Davos replied. Sansa thought as she watched him enter the great hall, Yes, I will be kind. The smallest kindness can inspire the greatest loyalty. I will make them love me.