If I Want To

Sansa

Robb made first call, claiming the role of the Young Dragon much to Jon Snow's disappointment. King Daeron I of House Targaryen was one of their bastard brother's heroes, Sansa knew—Arya had gone on about it often enough when she compared her heroine Nymeria of the Rhoyne with Daeron Targaryen, the Young Dragon.

"I'll be Ser Ryam Redwyne," Jon Snow said decidedly, raising his chin in a way that reminded Sansa of Arya, although his expression lacked Arya's stubbornly furrowed brows. While not his original choice, Ser Redwyne was no small feat to emulate, having been the greatest knight of his time; and Jon Snow pulled himself up to his full height, holding himself more proudly as Ser Ryam Redwyne, than he was ever allowed to do as Jon Snow, the bastard of Winterfell.

Theon and Arya quickly settled who they would play, and soon the game was underway. Robb made an impressive opponent as the Young Dragon, standing with his face fixed in a fierce scowl, looking big and broad. He held his wooden sword up threateningly and puffed out his chest as he channeled the authority that he would one day command as Lord of Winterfell.

"Not another step," he warned as Jon Snow advanced towards him.

"Place down your sword, and you might yet make it to your fifteenth name day," Jon Snow advised.

Robb flushed red before leaping forward with his sword and Jon Snow's lean body moved gracefully as he fended Robb off with his own practice sword.

For a second, Sansa wished that she could be in Arya's place; playing the fair maiden while the boys fought gallantly over her. Except Arya wasn't even playing her part properly. She insisted on wielding a stupid sword as if she were a knight or a hero.

Maidens don't fight.

Arya scowled if any of the boys attempted to go easy on her, and a wild grin broke across her face when they swung at her with their wooden swords, unbiased and true, as if she were one of them rather than a small, skinny highborn daughter of a noble house— who had nine years of well breeding along with the example set by their lady mother —and really ought to have known better.

"Why does Arya prefer to play fighting games with the boys?" Jeyne had once asked Sansa when they were littler.

"I'm sure I don't know why Arya does anything," Sansa had replied, sounding crosser than she had intended, because she too had been upset by Arya's behavior.

But Arya hadn't changed one bit, no matter how often Septa Mordane scolded her or Mother instructed her. Sansa nearly rolled her eyes at Arya's hopelessness, but settled for releasing a soft sigh before returning her attention to the poetry that she was working on.

When she looked up again, a game of monsters and maidens was underway, and Sansa held herself primly as she watched with a critical eye.

"Do you want to play?" Sansa heard Arya ask. Her sister went on before she could reply. "Theon and I will be the monsters, Jon and Robb are the knights, and you'll be the helpless maiden fair."

Sansa wasn't sure that Arya's words were kindly meant, but she agreed and laid down her poetry, before she smoothed down her dress and went to join the others.

This time, Jon called out the role he would be playing first. "I'm Prince Aemon the Dragonknight," Jon Snow was the first to say. But his eyes darted to Sansa and he quickly changed his mind.

"I'll be Aegon IV," Robb responded, before catching sight of Jon shaking his head. They ended up switching roles.

Sansa barely opened her mouth before Arya spun towards her. "Sansa, you will be Naerys," the younger girl informed—it was the only role that Sansa would have chosen anyway. "Instead of fighting each other over Naerys, Aemon and Aegon are going to fight us"—Arya pointed between her and Theon—"I like it better this way."

Sansa thought the tragedy of the original story was better, but she didn't say it out loud.

"Fear not, sweet sister, I shall release you from these vile monsters that have kidnapped you against your will and locked you in a tower!" Robb cried valiantly.

"Stay back if you value your lives!" Arya yelled.

"Do as my companion commands. She has developed quite the hunger for human flesh," Theon warned.

"Monsters, grumkins, or Others, it makes no matter. Aemon and I shall defeat you all the same," Jon Snow stated, voice filled with quiet intent.

Little words were needed as both sides drew their weapons.

Hidden behind the barrel which served as her prison, excitement coursed through Sansa as she watched the clash of bodies and swords. If Sansa closed her eyes, she could convince herself that she was living out one of her favorite songs. A maiden, helpless and innocent, as her brave knight fought to rescue her.

When the clanging of the wooden swords had died down and the monsters were slain, her two heroes appeared to rescue her from her imprisonment.

"You are safe now, sweet Naerys," Robb declared, holding out his hand to help her up. "How do you fair? Were you harmed?"

Sansa stood up from behind the barrel where she had crouched, and carefully dusted off her dress. "It was very gallant of you to fight off those monsters, dearest Aemon," she said, keeping her eyes demurely lowered.

"Such kind words, my lady. But it would not have been possible without Aegon fighting at my side," said Robb, and swept his arm back to include Jon.

Sansa glanced over at Jon Snow and gave him a nod of acknowledgment before turning her attention back to Robb.

Robb swooped down dramatically and plucked some flowers growing nearby, interlacing them before gently tucking them into her hair. "There," he proclaimed, "delicate blossoms to match your fair beauty."

Sansa blushed prettily and curtsied, leaning over to give her brother a kiss on the cheek, as a proper maiden from a song would do for her true knight.

She was having more fun than anticipated and would have asked if they could play another round of monsters and maidens, if they hadn't been interrupted by the commotion of Rickon running with the wolves in their direction.

The arrival of the youngest Stark brought chaos that immediately halted their fun. Rickon shrieked happily and scampered about their legs, not quite wanting to join the older kids, but still craving to be part of the action. ShaggyDog kept close to Rickon like a huge black shadow with eyes as green as King Aery's rumored wildfire.

Soon it was impossible to continue the game as six overexcited direwolves thrilled in the fun of chasing Rickon around, causing the toddler to nearly fall over in his haste and excitement to evade them.

He ignored the reaching arms of his brothers and sisters, his eyes shooting to the Greyjoy. Theon was the oldest and tallest, and Rickon quickly observed that fact, and his little feet made a mad dash between the legs of the dark haired youth. The wolves immediately gave chase, leaving Theon with little time to clear the way, and he ended up getting knocked down onto the dirt covered ground.

A satisfied smirk slowly settled on Jon Snow's face, while a howl of laughter sounded from Arya and Robb as the two doubled over at the sight of Theon sprawled among the dirt and grass. Sansa quickly spun away to hide the small smile that she couldn't quite prevent.