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i.
She hears people shouting in excitement and in dread, and she knows that they are upon her. The largest army Westeros has ever seen, Littlefinger said. She stays in her solar as long as she can, but at last the cheers of “the queen is coming!” leur her to the battlements.
Since she was a little girl, Sansa had taken such care to do everything right. Winterfell’s dutiful daughter had followed all the rules, she had become exactly the sort of person she was expected to be. She had believed the world to be a just place, where the wicked were punished and the good got what they deserved. She had believed with all of her heart that everything was for her. Songs would be written about her, the prince would fall in love with her, the people would love her.
None of that had worked out, and Sansa has never been more aware of that fact than now. She stands looking over the crowd and sees her brother approaching on horseback, Daenerys Targaryen at his side. Above them all flies two dragons.
There is no doubt in her mind that Littlefinger was correct. Jon intended to marry her, or maybe he already had. After all, it wasn’t as though Jon consulted her before taking big leaps of faith.
Despite everything, Jon had managed to disappoint her. Somehow, he’d given her faith in men again only to shatter it.
ii.
The Lady of Winterfell must greet them, but Sansa waits until the last possible moment to descend the battlements. Daenerys Targaryen seems to have the same idea. She lingers behind Jon, who approaches her eagerly, as though the last ten months hadn’t happened, as though he hadn’t abandoned her. When he embraces her, she almost forgives him for not writing. For a moment, she closes her eyes and imagines the two of them are alone again. His beard scratches against her cheek just as her father’s always had. He holds her tightly, and it’s almost the same as that first time they’d seen each other again, except he no longer smells like himself. He’s been bathed and drenched in perfume despite the hard day’s ride.
Her stomach turns and she opens her eyes. She can’t help but glare across the courtyard at her .
iii.
Sansa doesn’t want to hear about what Jon does at night with the Dragon Queen, so she closes her ears to it. It’s nearly impossible to ignore. She holds his hand at dinner, and kisses him in the hallways when Sansa passes by. She stares at Jon whenever they are apart, and asks Sansa advice about her taciturn brother.
That almost breaks her resolve.
“We were never close. He is a stranger to me. You should ask Arya.”
Duty forces Sansa to be polite and helpful to their visiting Queen, but Jon is family, so Sansa feels well within her rights to ignore him. It was easy, she had been ignoring Jon her entire life. Hadn’t she?
It shouldn’t hurt her that Jon seems just as determined to ignore her, but it does.
iv.
The remaining Northerners at Winterfell huddle in the courtyard to see Jon and Daenerys off.
“You’ve only just returned,” Sansa wants to say. It’s on the tip of her tongue, words that would be treason if ever spoken aloud. Let her die instead . But those selfish words wouldn’t make Jon love her any more, and it’s not like he’s ever obeyed her commands before, so she keeps her reservations to herself.
“We will return,” Daenerys promises, standing with her head held high, “I will bring you the Night King’s head, and after I do we can rebuild my new world together! I promise you peace.”
Jon merely stands there, his constant silence letting their people tell themselves that there could be closure, but Sansa knows that there’s no clean ending to this. As soon as one threat was vanquished, another would pop up. Jon knew better than that, didn’t he?
There is only lukewarm applause for their Queen, but Daenerys continues, her voice growing louder with each statement. “Cersei Lannister does not frighten me. Euron Greyjoy does not frighten me. And the dead do not frighten me! And you, my loyal people, will never be defeated. Not while I’m still standing to fight for you!”
Sansa does not move, but beside her Arya begins to clap, and the rest of the Northerners follow suit, leaving her with no choice but to cheer along with them. It seems to satisfy them, and they take off through the gates.
When Jon had left the last time, nearly a year ago now, he had looked back at her. She could still picture that moment in her mind, she had remained on the balcony long after he’d left. But this time, he merely follows Daenerys, and that’s when Sansa knows for sure that she’s lost whatever tenuous claim to Jon Snow she ever had.
vi.
When the dead come, it’s for her people that she is afraid. Sansa doesn’t believe she will die, if only because she had wished for death so many times. It was her curse to keep living as everyone she loved died, to stay constant when everyone else had been broken, to see everything she had thought to be true proven utterly false.