Bastard. Archer. Advisor. Alysanne Snow was many things, but she never expected the word Wife to be added to that list, let alone Queen. How in the seven hells did she get here?
Sansa was trying to distract herself. Alysanne could tell that much. Her younger sister had stuck herself inside for the four days since Bran's fall and busied herself with needlework and other little tasks. Robb had already tried to talk her outside, as had Father and little Rickon but none had succeeded. Now Aly stood in front of her sister's door, twisting her rings around her fingers as she tried to think over what to say.
"I know you're out there," Sansa's voice came through the door.
Alsyanne winced before slowly opening the door and poking her head inside. Sansa was seated on a small chair by her bed, some fabric in her hand that she must be embroidering. "I have not seen you today, I was wondering how you were?" Aly asked, walking slowly over to stand beside her sister.
"I am well," Sansa smiled stiffly.
Aly sighed. "No you are not," she declared.
Sansa started and looked up at her. "I am," she insisted.
"No you are not. You have locked yourself away in your room and refused to come out, even when Father asked you to," Aly knelt beside her sister's chair. "You cannot keep pushing these emotions away my sweet. We are all mourning what has happened to Bran but you must not lock yourself away from us all Sansa."
Sansa stared at Alysanne. Aly could tell that her sister was trying to keep her eyes blank and her expression clear, but there was a slight watery tinge to her eyes and a twitch in her lips that gave away her inner emotions. "I am doing well," Sansa repeated, shakily.
"Sansa..." Aly let out a soft sigh. She opened her arms and looked sympathetically at her little sister. "Let it out my sweet," she whispered. Sansa hesitated for a small moment, then broke and leant into Aly's arms. "Shh...shhh my sweet sister," Aly wrapped her hand tighter around Sansa's back. She felt her sister's tears as they wet her shoulder, little sobs breaking through Sansa's lips as she tightened her hold on Alysanne.
"What if he dies?" Sansa choked out.
"Maester Luwin says he will not," Aly comforted. "He says that he's survived the worst and will most likely live. It is now just a matter of when he wakes."
"What if he is mistaken?" Sansa almost cried.
"Sansa, you know that you can trust Maester Luwin's assessment," Aly shook her head. "I am worried for our brother too, but you cannot lock yourself away from us all."
Sansa pulled back, her head lowered slightly. "I know," she whispered. "I just cannot stand all of the people pitying me."
"They have mostly stopped now," Alysanne reassured her. "Rickon would like having you around again, and though she would never say it, so would Arya."
Sansa laughed slightly. "She would never confess to wishing I was present."
"Just as you would never confess to the opposite," Aly teased. Sansa laughed again and Aly felt a rush of relief at her sister's renewed joy.
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