A Furious Thing

At War

If Ned Stark's children had learned one thing, it was a strict sense of honor, and Catelyn Stark had always impressed the importance of duty on them. So, whatever anyone might say about Sansa Stark, they could never say she wasn't an honorable lady. Even as she fled King's Landing in the night with her husband, Sansa did her duty by him. But that wouldn't stop her own personal disapproval.

"Ned, if we return to Starfall, we become traitors to the Iron Throne. We should not stand opposed to King Robert."

"I owe my loyalty to the Martells. And Dorne has all but declared for the Targaryens." Ned replied, his face a stony mask.

Sansa's husband was a good man, one not prone to rages, but she knew that he could be incredibly stubborn when he wanted to be. There's be no budging him in this. But that wouldn't stop her from trying.

"You also owe your loyalty to the North. Your wife is a Star,k of Winterfell! You can't expect win, Ned. Robert and my father won the crown as simple rebels- child rebels, at that. They're not children anymore, and they have the whole might of the Iron Throne behind them."

"There are things you couldn't understand, my Northern Lady. Up in snowy Winterfell they know that King Robert is just and good, that the Targaryens were depraved monsters..."

Sansa stared at him, astonished, frightened by the implication of his words, that this wasn't the truth.

"In Dorne, we remember. We remember that the Targaryens were not always bad, that Rhaegar Targaryen loved Elia Martell and that he gave her two children- children that the Lannisters killed. And Robert ordered that."

Sansa flinched, realizing suddenly- how could she have not known- that Dorne chafed under Baratheon rule, harboring rebellion in its very heart. She hadn't known that they awaited a Targaryen to take back the Throne. Maybe this was worse than she'd expected. Maybe her family was in more danger than she'd first assumed. Perhaps she was the safest Stark in Westeros.

Arya had always dreamed of proving herself in war. She'd lost count of the daydreams she'd had about winning her knighthood on the field of battle. She'd never imagined that war could be like this.

Once the King had announced his call to arms, things had happened fast. Jon and Robb had been sent North to gather their banners, and their father had ordered Jon to offer a marriage to the Mormont women. It had come as a shock to Jon, and Arya as well, but apparently Ned had decided that, after marrying his eldest children off to southerners, he must assure their loyal northerners they'd not been forgotten about. While father had always said there must always be a stark in Winterfell, King Robert had not felt to the need to bend to this particular superstition, so with the eldest Stark brother's arrival back in the North, their ancient keep saw the first Stark face in a whole three months.

Arya had to think that this war was, in part, caused by the absences of a Stark in Winterfell, no matter how small this seemed in the grand scale of war, she knew that direwolves were not meant to live in the South.

Jeyne and the children stayed in King's Landing. The journey North wasn't safe for them, and when Catelyn traveled to the Riverlands to secure the Tully's influence over the riverlords- particularly the Frey's- Rickon and Bran were left behind as well.

But while Arya did feel sympathy for Bran, thinking it a shame that father felt he needed shielding, Arya couldn't but be happy that they were safe. That is, for a time. But everything changed when Brienne told her that she'd be returning to Tarth.

"I need to return to the defend the smallfolk. I should have gone weeks ago, but Renly held me here," she explained. Arya assumed it was her way of requesting her return. But Brienne killed that hope almost as soon as it sprouted. "Your father made it clear that you're to stay here. I agree. Tarth will be dangerous, and you're not ready."