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Her first glimpse of Winterfell had taken Alayne’s breath away. She had expected to be awed upon viewing a castle much more immense and impressive than the Eyrie; what she hadn’t expected was recognizing it. It’s exactly how I remembered it, that still unknown voice from within had whispered. It was impossible…and yet at that moment, she had not felt like she was venturing towards a new destination, but rather that she was returning home.
The feeling of familiarity grew as the weeks went on. Alayne could not explain how she knew her way around the keep’s various corridors and chambers. Nor why she was drawn to a room that she learned through a carefully worded question belonged to the eldest Stark daughter…the very daughter whose hair color matched the roots Alayne meticulously covered up. It frightened her.
She considered confiding in Jon, but something held her back. And ever since Jon became king, she became even more reluctant to bring her troubles to him. He had enough to worry about.
In the Eyrie, she would often seek refuge in the godswood. So that’s where she went now.
Snowflakes drifted around her as she ventured deeper. With no clear destination in mind, she wandered aimlessly until she spied the color red amongst the surrounding greys, blues, and whites. She continued on until she could see it clearly.
A heart tree.
She immediately saw why weirwoods were considered sacred to those who worshipped the old gods. There was something otherworldly about the scarlet leaves and snow white bark.
She knelt before it, gazing at the stern face carved at the base.
A faint voice spoke to her, carried by the wind. You need to remember.
“How?” she whispered.
See through me.
In a trance, she peeled off the moleskin glove from her right hand, one finger at a time. Once bare, she slowly reached out and placed her hand flat on the pale bark, right over the carved face.
At first, nothing happened. Then, Alayne’s eyes rolled in the back of her head.
Memory after memory came rushing back in a whirlwind in her mind.
Sansa Stark opened her eyes.
“Alayne?”
It was Jon, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion. Tears streamed down her face, freezing on her cheeks. It would be so sweet, to see him once again, she had thought of him oh so long ago.
Not like this, she thought now as her tears turned to heart wrenching sobs.
So distraught was she, she didn’t even notice Jon had come to her until she felt his arms wrap around her. She should pull away - she didn’t deserve his comfort - but she returned his embrace desperately. “Jon, I’m so sorry!” she gasped in between sobs.
He rocked her gently back and forth. “Sorry for what?”
“I remember now…I didn’t know before…” You would hate me if you knew…like I wish I could hate you. “But I’m still in love with you!” she wailed against his chest.
“You…?”
Sansa wrenched herself away then, landing hard on her uncovered hand. She didn’t even feel the cold. Jon stared at her with wide eyes. “I remember. Everything. Please forgive me.”
Unable to be around Jon any longer, she scrambled to her feet and fled, feeling her heart shatter with each footfall.