Chapter Text
The snow was falling in big fluffy flakes, the kind that Sansa hadn't seen in years. It reminded her of the winter wonderland kind of scenes she remembered from her childhood days at the Winterfell compound in upstate New York. She could almost see the individual precision of each flake, a crystalline work of art as unique as a fingerprint.
If she was out there, dancing through the powdery snow, the flakes would stick to her eyelashes and make her feel like a snow queen. She could stick her tongue out and taste the holiday sweetness of childlike joy and innocence.
But she wasn't out there, she was in here, stuck in a cab in rush hour traffic. It was Thursday, December 22nd. Everyone was headed in the same direction, toward a train station just outside the city where they would be crammed into cars like cattle for the two hour ride back to the suburbs. At the very least, she was thankful she had the entire cab to herself. It was actually a minivan that could seat up to twelve people. It was a small miracle that the driver hadn't picked up more passengers heading in that same direction.
And even if she was out there on the street, Sansa wouldn't encounter the kind of snow that blanketed the world in a swathe of fluffy white. On the contrary, it would be a filthy, sludgy soup of slush and dirt and city street scunge that would ruin the new leather boots she'd purchased on sale at Macy's last month.
The only reason she'd bought the boots was to complete the outfit she was going to wear to impress her boyfriend, Joffrey. He and his family had been invited to the Christmas party Sansa was hosting at Winterfell. They were rich and a little bit elitist, but Sansa was in love and she wanted to make a good impression on the Lannisters.
She'd worked tirelessly on the plans for months, delighting in the fact that her family would finally be together again, all in the same place for the first time in years. It would have been the perfect setting to introduce her brothers and sister and their significant others, to the man she was going to marry.
Sansa had wanted to create the perfect backdrop for Joffrey's "surprise" proposal. She'd discovered the ring in his sock drawer after putting away a load of laundry. A princess cut solitaire that, by her estimation, had to be about four carats at least, maybe more.
It had been hard to keep her excitement to herself, but Sansa knew that to be worthy of such an honor, she'd have to step up and become the sophisticated woman who deserved it. Especially if she was going to be part of the Lannister family.
She watched hours of YouTube videos to learn how to decorate from Martha Stewart and cooked new recipes alongside Jamie Oliver and Rachel Ray. She purchased heirloom worthy décor and ornaments from Tiffany's and Nordstrom. She shopped for the perfect gifts at Bloomingdales and Saks.
Sansa sighed and leaned her head against the cool glass of the window. The chill on her cheek masked the icy chill trickling through her heart. For a moment, she could pretend she wasn't dissolving inside, falling apart like one of her overcooked pie crusts.
Her eyes flicked down to the muck-covered street. For a fleeting second, Sansa imagined herself lying face down in the frozen sludge, drowning in an icy puddle, putting an end to her misery.
No, it doesn't have to be that way, she thought. There's still Arya.
Even if it was only the two of them, they could still have a fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. It was probably better that way, Sansa didn't really feel like being around anyone. But if it was just her and Arya, they could watch old Christmas movies – A Christmas Story with that fat little kid in the glasses was her favorite – drink hot cocoa with an entire bag of marshmallows poured in, eat gingerbread cookies, and talk about memories of opening presents with their parents when they were still little. Two sisters, reliving their childhood and reveling in the bond they shared on the one day that meant most to her. The last day with her parents alive in this world.
"You headed home for Christmas?" the cab driver asked.
Sansa tried to smile, but the lead in her heart tugged relentlessly at the corners of her mouth. "Yes," she said quietly.
"And where is home for you, Miss?"
"Oyster Bay." She didn't really feel like talking, least of all with the cab driver, but the conversation distracted Sansa from her troubles, and if it made the ride seem shorter, that would be great, too.
The driver looked up at her through his rearview mirror. "Isn't that where the Winterfell compound is located?" He didn't wait for an answer, but instead shook his head in disbelief. "Man, I'd love to see that place. Must be quite the spectacle all decorated up for Christmas. Almost makes me wish I were a Stark just so I could be surrounded by family to enjoy it with. That would be quite the holiday!"
Sansa snorted under her breath. Keep dreaming, buddy!
The driver was about to launch into another enthusiastic monologue, but traffic suddenly broke and they were moving again. Sansa looked at her watch. If he drove at least at the speed limit, they'd still make it to the train station with time to spare.
❄ 🎄 ❄ 🎄 ❄ 🎄 ❄
The more she scrolled through the messages on her phone, the deeper Sansa sunk into a foul mood. One by one, her friends and family had backed out of their family Christmas plans. For the most part, their reasons were valid, but Sansa was irked nonetheless.
Who refused leave of absence to a soldier on Christmas? Robb was in the army, stationed with his wife, Talisa, at Fort Bragg in North Carolina. His request for leave had been denied. Sansa couldn't imagine he was pleased about it either, but it was still disappointing.
Rickon was a lawyer for some hotshot firm in Atlanta. As a partner in the firm, he had the ability to make his own hours, leave whenever he wanted to, but he'd chosen to stay and submit a last minute appeal to the judge in the case of a death row inmate who was scheduled for execution.
Bran lived in Winnetka, a suburb of Chicago, with his wife and two daughters. Both of his daughters had come down with the flu.
Jon lived in Alaska with his new girlfriend, Ygritte. He worked on the pipeline in an oil town. There had been a leak and being the supervisor of his unit, he had no choice but to stay and deal with the problem. They'd gotten the leak fixed, but by that time, it was too late to for him to travel. There were no flights available until after the new year.
Her last and final hope was Arya. Sansa had texted her multiple times to find out if she was still coming, but Arya hadn't answered.
"Here we are, Miss."
Sansa looked up to see the cabdriver peering at her through the rearview mirror. She gathered her purse and tote bag off the seat beside her as the driver opened the door for her. She smiled graciously, appreciating the gentlemanly gesture. He offered his arm and Sansa accepted it.
The snow was thicker now and stepping from the cab onto the slippery curb was tricky. When she was steady on her feet, Sansa smoothed out her coat and looked around. Despite the traffic on the street and the number of people that should be heading home right now, the train station seemed deserted. A few stragglers passed by on the sidewalk, but other than that, it appeared to be just her and the driver.
He leaned in behind the rear seat to retrieve her suitcase. While he was doing that, Sansa took the opportunity to scan the messages in her phone once more. She had no clue why. There hadn't been a response from Arya thirty seconds ago, there certainly wouldn't be one now.
"Would you like some help with your bag, Miss?"
Sansa looked up from her phone. The man stood in front of her with a wide, warm smile on his face. She'd been so wrapped up in her own little world that it never occurred to her that a living human being was standing in front of her. Until now.
Tucking her phone into her pocket, Sansa cracked her neck and tried to relax, giving her full attention to the driver. He was maybe a year or two younger than she was, with a boyishly handsome face, dark hair, and rosy smile. If Santa ever recruited for elves, she imagined this man just might fit the bill. There was innocent wonder in his eyes as though the world was always new for him.
"That's really not necessary, but thank-you," she said.
He gave a slight bow. "I hope you and your family have a delightful Christmas holiday filled with joy." His manner was ostentatious, but wholly authentic.
Sansa removed her wallet from her purse. "How much do I owe you?"
"That'll be $27.63, Miss."
Sansa pulled two fifties from her wallet and handed them to the driver. "Merry Christmas," she said.
The driver blinked and swallowed. His eyes flicked between Sansa and the cash. "That's really too much, Miss. It wouldn't be right for me to accept that much."
"Take it. You deserve it. I'm sure the mean streets of the city aren't always the kindest to cab drivers. You were very polite and helpful." Sansa lifted her hand closer to him. "Take it and treat your family to something nice for the holidays."
The smile on the man's face faltered. He took a step back and clasped his hands. "I'll tell you what," he said. "This one's on me."
Sansa would have sworn she saw tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
"But only on one condition," he added. From his back pocket, he removed a business card and handed it to her. "Next time you need a ride, you call me first."
Sansa took the card.
Podrick Payne
Squire Cab Company
A fleet of vehicles to serve your every need.
Podrick immediately skirted around her and climbed back into his van. He rolled down the window and leaned out.
"Make sure you get home safely. And have a wonderful Christmas, Miss Stark."
Sansa was shocked. How had he known she was a Stark? She'd never mentioned her name, only that she lived in Oyster Bay. Lots of people lived in Oyster Bay. Before she had a chance to respond, Podrick hit the accelerator and fishtailed away from the curb. She watched him drive away, suddenly amused by the fact that he drove a red van with white trim.
Maybe he was one of Santa's elves after all.
Sansa snapped out the handle of her wheelie and pulled it toward the tunnel through the station that led to the tracks. As she walked across the plaza to the building, the snow began to fall again, heavier this time, with those big fluffy flakes Sansa loved so much. She looked up and closed her eyes. The flakes landed on her face and instantly melted, but the sensation was refreshing. She still wasn't in a good mood, but allowed herself a small chuckle when she realized how much she resembled a powdered donut.
Just before she reached the tunnel, Sansa's phone buzzed notifying her that she'd received a text. She pulled her phone from her pocket and swiped at the screen. The message – finally! – was from Arya. Sansa's mouth reflexively lifted into a small smile.
"So sorry. Can't make it. G got a last minute deal. Going to Hawaii! 😲😲😲 Have a great Christmas. Tell everyone I say Ho! 🎄🎄🎄"
The smile plummeted somewhere into the pit of her stomach. Sansa felt alike a volcano, shaking under the ground right before a massive eruption. Her fists and her face clenched in fury.
Not even the courtesy of a phone call? A stupid text?
Sansa was livid. She smashed her thumb down on the call icon next to Arya's name and slammed the phone against the side of her head.
"Hey, Sansa! I'm surprised to hear from you. Figured you were probably up to your elbows in –"
"How could you?" Sansa screamed into her phone. "I've been texting you for days and now … NOW … at the last possible moment … I get a text saying that you're not coming? You don't even have the decency to call me and say it directly?"
"Holy shit, Sansa, calm down. It's not that big of a deal."
"Not a big deal? Maybe not to you, but I've been planning this for months."
"I don't doubt that." The sarcasm from Arya was bitter and hurtful. "You're such a Type A tight ass."
"I am not. I just wanted my family together for Christmas. Is that so much to ask?" Sansa slammed the handle of her suitcase back down into its retractable slot. "Please! Tell me what is so dammed important that you can't make it for Christmas?"
Arya snorted. "Gendry scored a last minute vacation deal to Maui. It's almost too good to be true. Neither of us has ever been and it's the chance of a lifetime. How could we not? Besides, it's not like we're breaking some long-standing tradition or anything. We'll come next year. It's not that big a deal."
"I highly advise you to stop talking. If you wanted to go to Hawaii so badly, you know I'd give you the money. I really want to be around my family right now."
"Yeah, right. Like you and I have been sooo close that you can't live without me." Arya's contempt was palpable. "Besides, it's not like you'll be alone. Everyone else will be there."
Weariness cascaded down through Sansa's body. Her body sagged under the weight of the reality that she was about to share with Arya. "I'll be alone. No one will be there." Her voice was as flat and lifeless as her heart.
"What are you talking about? Jon's bringing his new girlfriend, Bran is coming with the wife and kids, Robb's getting leave, and Rickon closed the office for the rest of the month. Plus Joffrey and his family are invited. So what's your problem? Just because I won't be there."
Sansa clenched her fist and beat at the air in front of her. "No one is coming, Arya," she snarled. "Jon's pipeline broke. Bran's girls have the flu. Robb's leave was denied. And Rickon's appeal for leniency was denied."
"Wow. Sorry, Sansa, I didn't know. But hey, maybe this is a sign. It's the perfect opportunity to spend Christmas with Joffrey and his family. Get to know them better. After all, it won't be long 'til you're a member of the family." The singsong tone of Arya's last sentence tipped the scales of fury within Sansa that she'd been desperately trying to keep balanced.
"Do you seriously never fucking listen your voice mails?" Sansa screeched. "Maybe if you answered your fucking phone once in a while!" Sansa ended the call. She burned in shame at the language she'd used, but Sansa had surpassed mere anger long ago and had high-tailed it right down rage road. The foulness of her words would have prompted her sister to check her messages immediately and call her back. She turned off her phone. Whatever Arya would have to say, Sansa didn't want to hear it.
Now what was she going to do? At the very least, Sansa thought maybe she and Arya could have an intimate Christmas together, sharing memories and keeping each other company through the loneliest holiday of the year. She understood now, why it was called the loneliest holiday. So many people out there had no one at a time that was supposed to be festive and filled with joy.
She was one of them now, going home to a dark, empty estate, alone. All her preparations and money had been wasted. Unlike her siblings, Sansa had no one that loved her. They all had wives, girlfriends, or in Arya's case, a boyfriend. Bran even had kids. Sansa had no one.
No one wanted her, no one even wanted to be with her. And when she arrived back at Winterfell, she'd be reminded of it. Over the past weeks, she'd made trips home to clean and decorate. She'd put up the tree by herself and carefully placed all the precisely wrapped gifts beneath it. The fridge was stocked with enough food to feed an army, and enough booze to put a bull elephant in a coma.
Was it even worth going home? She didn't want to see all that and be reminded of her misery.
Sansa supposed she could go back to the city and treat herself to a room at the Hilton. With a snow-covered toe, she kicked at the suitcase waiting beside her. The contents of her luggage were all she'd managed to grab as she'd fled the apartment she'd shared with Joffrey. Thankfully, she hadn't kept much at his place.
The sound of the train horn startled Sansa out of her reverie. She chewed on her lip anxiously trying to decide what to do. Stay alone at a hotel through the holiday with the constant reminder of joy and happy families surrounding her at every turn. Or go home to the bleak, blessed loneliness of a huge empty estate that was lifeless and dark.
The train horn blared again signaling final boarding. It was the last train of the night. If she didn't make a decision, the decision would be made for her. Sansa decided she didn't want to be around anyone. She'd rather be surrounded by her own personal misery than be resentful of everyone else's happiness.
Sansa yanked up the handle of her wheelie and started running toward the tunnel that led to the tracks. She was thankful she'd chosen the flat-soled boots instead of the ridiculous high-heeled ones she'd initially had her eye on. It was hard enough running through the snow and pulling a heavy suitcase behind her, now she had to sprint a marathon to make the train.
No problem. The train was on the closest track and she was almost there. Around the corner and through the short tunnel and she was home free.