Chapter Text
Sansa’s day started out very strangely, even before the sun completely emerged from below the horizon. Lady, her newly found direwolf cub was abnormally restless that morning and firmly refused to follow any of Sansa’s commands. On Lady’s insistence, Sansa reluctantly left her bed early and dressed hastily before following her wolf companion to the origin of the cub’s distress.
The moment they reached the courtyard, the direwolf broke out into a sprint towards the Godswood and Sansa struggled to keep up. When Sansa finally caught up, Lady was already busy digging the ground below a weirwood tree with a ferocity that she never observed in her cub before that day.
Oh no, thought Sansa, perhaps Lady is going to turn out as wild as the others.
Sansa realised that the she-wolf found whatever she was digging for the moment Lady stepped away politely to the side to let Sansa have a look at what was hidden below the ground. The hole was impressively deep and you could see the white roots speckled with loose bits of the earth. It didn’t take long for Sansa to spot an unusually cubic root formation with the shape and size of a jewellery box.
Although it looked like it had been placed in there and then covered up, upon closer inspection Sansa could see that the container was fused perfectly with the surrounding roots and it looked like the only way of opening it was to break it off from its surroundings.
The roots gave way easily, much to Sansa’s surprise, but left her hands covered in the weirwood’s blood-red sap. Upon looking at the box more closely, Sansa noticed an indentation running along the perimeter that marked the lid of the strange object.
Prying it open required more effort than removing the whole contraption, but Sansa eventually managed to get to the contents out. A single letter consisting of multiple pages.
How peculiar, maybe this is a message from the Old Gods, she wondered. Sansa did not often pray to the Old Gods, preferring to worship the Seven instead, like her mother. Hence, it felt odd that she was receiving such attention from them when it was never properly reciprocated on her part.
Sansa barely managed to take a look at the letter to confirm that it was indeed addressed to her before she heard the bells of Winterfell’s sept ring seven times in the distance. The keep was waking up and soon it would be time for Sansa to break her fast with the rest of her family before joining Arya for their lessons with Septa Mordane.
Sansa had to make haste if she didn’t want anyone to notice that she was gone. Glancing around the Godswood, Sansa realised with horror that she had made a mess of her ancestor’s holy place. With Lady’s help, she filled the gaping pit in the ground and washed off as much sap as she could from her hands in the nearby pond. Feeling breathless and elated, Sansa stuffed the letter into her breast pocket and hurried back towards the castle, Lady followed suit.
The wait was pure agony. Sansa found that it was much harder to work at her embroidery for hours on end when curiosity burned her chest in the place where she put the letter. Her lessons felt endless and unusually boring. It did not help that she was sent to change half way through because Septa Mordane spotted the crimson stains from the weirwood sap that Sansa failed to notice through all the excitement of her morning.
“That is not the way a proper Lady should look,” her septa scolded, “I expect better of you, Sansa.”
The criticism made Sansa feel slightly bitter because Sansa took pride in being a perfect Lady. However, the painful impression of the cutting remark was soothed by the warm presence of the message that still guarded her heart.
It was already past nightfall by the time Sansa got a room to herself. She feigned a headache in order to retire early from supper. Knowing that her mother would be worried about her, Sansa willed herself to lie in her bed just until Catelyn checked up on her. She shut her eyes hard when she heard the door creak open, a thousand possibilities of what the letter could contain danced around in her head.
After her mother left, pleased to find her daughter sleeping, Sansa counted to fifty before she got up to light a candle. Lady, who was previously resting peacefully beside her bed sprung up with newfound energy.
The paper looked curiously fresh despite the fact that Sansa found the letter amongst the thicker, older roots of the weirwood. It was time. With a deep breath, Sansa broke the seal of her own house and opened up the pages.
Dear Sansa,
I hope that this letter finds you before it is too late. I am afraid that I do not even know where to begin and how to prove the things I am about to disclose. You see, you and I are one. Only you are the version of me that is still young and carefree. Please cherish those moments, I hope what you are about to read will let the course of your happiness run longer than mine.
This was unbelievable beyond words. Perhaps Arya decided to play a cruel joke on her with this business. But then again, how could Arya place the letter where Sansa found it? She read on.
It is very important that you do not disclose the contents of this letter to anyone, please ensure that it is burned the moment you finish reading it. Maybe you have heard that King Robert is travelling North to meet your Father. If you haven’t, you will soon, and I hope that when you do, you will believe this letter too. King Robert is going to ask your father to become Hand of the King, father will accept and this decision will start an avalanche of tragedy in our family that will eventually claim the lives of our father, our mother, Robb and Rickon.
Sansa felt tears welling up in her eyes. How could this be? How did this letter get to her? As a Lady of a Great House, Sansa always thought that her life was practically destined to be special, exceptional. As she read her own swirly, measured script she felt devastatingly powerless.
I ask a lot of you, Sansa, more so that I thought I could shoulder when I was, well, you (this all feels strange to me too, believe me). After I left Winterfell I discovered that I was made of stronger steel than I ever thought possible and I know now that it must have been in me all along. It is in you now. You won’t be able to save all members of your family but I hope that the choices you make with this information will be for the best.
Firstly, you must not trust any of the members of the Royal family. Especially Queen Cersei and Prince Joffrey. He will seem charming, a picture of everything you have ever wanted but do not, under any circumstances, give him your heart or your trust. Giving him the latter will kill Lady, I know how much you love her so please trust me for her sake, at least. The former will lead you to betray father, too. Avoiding this might not save his life, in the end, but it will let you live without the guilt and remorse that I’ll carry with me to my grave.
As Sansa read the last line, Lady nuzzled up closer and licked at the tears that slowly fell down Sansa’s cheeks. How could she ever betray father? Sansa had not met any Lannisters or the Baratheon King and Prince but she could not fathom how someone that was now a stranger could ever make her put their needs above those of her family.
Secondly, the King will wish for a betrothal between you and Prince Joffrey, but you must tell father that you do not wish it, as convincingly as you can. I know you dream of being a Queen someday, but even if you agree to the match, you will never be Joffrey’s Queen, only his prisoner and plaything. He may look gallant and handsome but he is a cruel beast, worse than most of the stories that Old Nan told you and your siblings.
This brings me to my third, and most important, point. I know that now you firmly believe that Old Nan’s stories are just that, old tales created to scare young girls and boys, but some of them are, in fact, true as you’ll find out. Like the existence of the Others. But before I tell you all about them, I must first reveal to you the truth about the boy you consider your half-brother, Jon Snow.
Sansa wondered how Jon Snow could possibly be connected with the Others. Why was he so important?
What I am about to tell you is a secret that could have died with our father if it weren't for Howland Reed. You see, Jon is not our father’s bastard son. He is truly the son of our aunt Lyanna and her abductor, Rhaegar Targaryen. As you read this, only our father and Howland Reed know this information and as I have previously stated, you must make sure that that’s how it remains. Where I am from, it is presumed that Lyanna did not go against her will and in fact, married Prince Rhaegar before her untimely death which makes Jon a legitimate Targaryen Prince with a right to sit the Iron Throne.
At this point, Sansa dared to believe every word. She knew of no one who had the sheer imagination to come up with what she was now reading. Still, Jon - a Targaryen Prince? The premise was astounding, no wonder that it was paramount that all in possession of this information kept it hidden. It could cost Jon his life! And Father’s too… Sansa’s heart ached for her mother and father. She knew that Catelyn’s woe from the daily reminder of her husband’s dishonour was real. This made Sansa conclude that her mother was not aware of the reality of Jon’s parentage. That made her feel for her father, too, he had to shoulder this all by himself since Jon was born. He was her cousin then, not a half-brother. Sansa’s head now throbbed for real.
I reconnected with Jon before any of this was known. We were both at our lowest points, thinking ourselves the last members of a ruined House. But we found strength in each other and built what we once took for granted, what you now take for granted, from the ground up. We raised it all back from the ashes and somehow along the way politics and the revelation of Jon’s true parentage thrust us both into a marriage that we were not ready for. People hailed us as King and Queen in the North, yet almost as soon as they put crowns on our heads, the Others forced us to take up swords instead. And somehow along the way to what could have been the end of the world as we knew it, we fell in love. I’d like to think that I know you, that I know myself, and if that is true then you must find this the most unbelievable part of this whole letter.
Sansa could not help but agree, these days she hardly even spoke to Jon. It wasn’t proper, and mother did not like it. Suddenly, remembering the way Jon’s eyes saddened when she called him “half-brother” made her feel guilty. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around it all.
Out of everything that I have done in my short life, perhaps what I regret most is that I got to spend so little time with the man that gave purpose to my entire existence when I no longer had the strength to go on. I am writing this now because I realised that the reason it took so long for us to open up our hearts to each other was because we never learned to trust the other at the age when we still had our innocence. When Jon died fighting the Others hardly six moons passed since I first told him I loved him. Now his son, Ned, will never know his father. Even though Jon led the army that fought for the Dawn and vanquished the Night’s King with his own sword, he never came back to me. Although this evil no longer hangs above our lives, my son remains the only reason why I go on living. I know that telling you all this might not necessarily let Jon live beyond his last fight, but we both know of the fierceness with which we love our family, so I hope you understand the nature of my attempt to right these wrongs.
Please treat him better, I trust that you will use this information wisely. I am sorry to put so much weight on your young shoulders. Many will come and try to stomp out your kindness, compassion, and faith in this world, but I want you to know that the only reason why I am able to give this letter to you is because we are still one and the same in a small part of our hearts. Remember to burn this letter after you finish.
The letter was not signed, it didn’t need a signature. Sansa did not know of anyone who could copy out her letters so precisely. And who besides her parents could have gotten their hands on the Stark seal? Surely stealing was way too much trouble for a silly prank. Why was she even considering how this could be a lie? A miracle presented itself to her today and even as Sansa cried herself to sleep that never quite overtook her, she decided to dedicate her life to making a change and prepared herself for heartache. Her future self helped save Westeros from the Others, but it was up to this Sansa to save her.