Ficlet_zone Challenge 8 - The pack survives

[m_findlow]

Title: The pack survives
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Characters: Arya, Sansa
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,098 words
Content notes: Spoilers for Seasons 1-7
Author notes: Written for Challenge 8 - Babylon 5 Reverse Fandom (Confessions and Lamentations) at ficlet_zone
Summary: Arya and Sansa wait at Winterfell for Jon's return.

Ghost came over and put his head in Arya's lap, allowing her to rub his ears before settling on the floor at her feet. She and Sansa huddled by the fire, both lost in thought.

'I saw her again,' Arya said. 'On my way back to Winterfell.'

Sansa turned her head and frowned. 'Saw who?'

'Nymeria. At least I think I did.' Arya knew a full grown direwolf when she saw one. How many could there be? 'She wouldn't come home with me. She barely even acknowledged me.  I hoped she'd understand that what I did I did to save her life.' Arya paused. 'I wish they hadn't killed Lady. I'm sorry that I caused that. Lady didn't deserve to die.'

Sansa grimaced at the memory of her beautiful direwolf. She'd been so calm, and gentle, well-behaved to a fault. She was every bit her namesake, and yet she'd been executed by order of the King, to serve the sentence that was Nymeria's by right. Though Sansa had hated her Father for committing the act, she understood it now, and was glad that he had done the deed, rather than let the butcher Ser Ilyn Payne kill her precious Lady. She'd been given a quick, honorable death, and her bones sent home to Winterfell. At least she would never become a pelt for some high born.

'I'm sorry that Nymeria didn't kill Joffrey that day,' Sansa replied. That would have truly made the punishment worth it. She leaned back and let a little smile creep across her face. 'Just imagine how different things might have been if Joffrey had been dead.' She imagined being wed to Tommen instead of Joffrey. Tommen at least had been a kind boy. Though like his brother, he too was now dead. Sansa, had she remained in King's Landing under Cersei's watchful eye, would probably have suffered a similar fate.

'You would have killed me,' Arya replied. 'The King probably would have killed me.'

'Father would never have let either of those things happen. He would have said that a direwolf could never truly be tamed. A direwolf would not be able to tell the difference between a prince and a peasant.'

'Nymeria knew the difference.' She looked up, meeting Sansa's gaze. 'I wish I could have been there,' she said, 'when Joffrey got what he deserved. Did he suffer?'

Sansa shook her head. 'I'm not sure. I think so. Ser Dontos was trying to whisk me away in the confusion, but Joffrey was choking, lying on the ground and gasping like a drowning man. I heard later that his death was awful.' Lady Olenna had seemed like such a nice woman, terse and straight talking, but no murderer. Now Sansa knew different. She'd taken that jewel from Sansa's necklace at the wedding feast and slipped the poison into Joffrey's wine. Had she not escaped, she had no doubt that she would have been accused of the murder herself.

'He didn't deserve a quick death,' Arya replied. 'None of them do.'

Sansa caught the strange look in Arya's eyes. It was that same look she'd given her sister when Sansa had uncovered the faces hidden in her room. It was a face that said she had more retribution yet to mete out. 'More people on your list?' Sansa surmised.

She shook her head. 'No. Just the one. Cersei.' Sansa could tell she'd take great pleasure in crossing that name off her list when  the time came.

Sansa smoothed down her skirts. She despised the queen even more than Arya herself probably did, and yet wanting her dead sat uncomfortably for her. 'And we sent Jon to treat with her for an alliance.'

That wasn't strictly true, she realised as she clenched her teeth together, grinding them. Jon had gone to treat with this Danaerys Targaryen, and he'd in turn bent the knee to her. By last reports he was headed back to Winterfell with this Targaryen queen and her army, having brokered a ceasefire with King's Landing until the threat beyond the Wall could be dealt with. The lords of the North would be fuming at this news, which was why she'd kept it to herself for the present. She would not lose the north. Jon might have given them up to this so called queen but she would not. If the Northern lords would cast their ire, it would be at Jon and not her. He could be the one to tell them he'd bent the knee.

'You're mad at Jon,' Arya stated, hardly disguising her own allegiances.

'You haven't seen him for years,' Sansa retorted. 'You don't know what's he's like.'

'I know Jon would never betray our family. He'd die before he did that. As would I.' She reached down to tense her hand around the Valyrian steel danger at her belt. Ghost barely reacted to the movement, but Sansa took heed of it.

'That's not what I meant,' Sansa replied. She rested her chin in her hand, elbow leaning tiredly on the arm of the chair. 'He's too honest, too trusting, too honorable. Just like Father. And look where all that honour got him.' She heaved out a heavy sigh, staring into the flames as they flickered in their parents old fireplace in their rooms. 'I wish I'd never let him leave.'

'You'd command the King in the North to stay put?' Arya found this amusing, judging by her expression.

'No,' Sansa said, feeling her hackles rising, 'I'd command our brother to not go and get himself killed, walking right into the lion's den. We still need him.'

Arya smirked. 'It almost sounds like you care.'

Sansa held out her hand palm facing up. Ghost stood up and wandered over, licking her hand. 'I do. If I'd been kinder all those years ago, maybe we wouldn't be here now. Maybe he'd have listened to me when I told him not to go. You were always his favourite. If you'd been here, maybe you could have convinced him not to go.'

'Jon spent his whole life being told he wasn't good enough, that he couldn't be someone. I was told a girl couldn't wield a sword and be a warrior. You were told you'd never be more than a prize wife to some king or lord. Now look at us. You're the Lady of Winterfell. Jon is King in the North.'

Sansa studied her sister in the firelight. 'And what are you?'

Arya gave a thin-lipped smile. 'I'm Arya Stark of Winterfell. It's queens that should be afraid of us.'