She Wolf • |Book 2|

• Chapter Fifteen •

"She will only force the North to bend the knee, Rhaella, you know this."

She knelt into the straw, picking up an auburn colored two-week-old pup. Rhaella turned toward Sansa. "I know," she replied with a gentle sigh, "but she does have a dragon."

"Exactly, a dragon. She had three and now she only has one."

"That one is very full grown, and still here for a reason." she stood up, the pup cradled in her arms. "She would melt the North if it meant she could have it."

Rhaella moved past Sansa with the direwolf in hand. A girl of only twelve had been standing just behind Sansa, watching on when Rhaella approached her. "This is the one," she said, placing the pup into the girl's arms. "He does not eat. See what your mother can do for him."

"Yes, your grace." The young girl curtsied. Mindful of the sick pup left in her care, she turned and hurried off to find her mother.

Rhaella turned back to Sansa now that they were alone and said, "Perhaps you underestimate Jon," she brushed straw from her skirt. "But we must trust him for the time."

"Is that really what you are doing?" Sansa asked. "Ser Alwin told me the truth. You mean to wait, don't you?"

A soft whisp of white appeared as Rhaella exhaled, "Sworn to me and yet he shares with you," she shook her head. "What would you propose we do?"

• r •

How quick the days passed when Jon Snow was never around. She had forgotten how a week turned into a year... into many years. Though that had not been the case now. It had only been three weeks.

Still, Rhaella shifted uncomfortably in her chair. The same chair Jon sat in when he had been home. The very same chair Robb had sat in too, when he had been Lord of Winterfell.

Even as Queen in the North, she had refused to sit in it. This chair belonged not to a King or Queen, but to a Stark, and she was no Stark.

Beside her a Stark did sit. Sansa Stark, daughter of the late Ned Stark, and sister to her late husband, Robb Stark, the first King in the North after Aegon the Conquer. Her very presence gave Rhaella the courage she needed to sit there. Her very story inspired her to do what she had agreed was best for the realm.

Sansa felt eyes upon her. She turned her attention from the hall to the woman beside her. There had been a hint of fear in Rhaella's cold blue eyes.  It was something only Sansa had learned to detect. She could sympathize with Rhaella, she too would be scared if she was in her position. So she offered her hand and gave Rhaella's a gentle, reassuring squeeze, and smiled again.

"All will be well," she whispered, as the others settled. "These are your people, they will support you."

Silence fell over the hall. Eyes fell upon them. Eyes belonging to exhausted faces. Men, women, children, all who had recently experienced a great loss.

Sansa gave Rhaella's hand one last squeeze as Rhaella inhaled deeply. Slowly she rose to her feet, releasing her hand and clearing her throat.

"You are probably all wondering why we have called this meeting of council." She began, her eyes canvassing the room. Her hands trembled. She could feel her heart excellerating. Another deep breath was made in a final attempt to quell her nerves.

"I hope it's to discuss what's being done about the south!"

A few others roared in agreement, bringing life back into the hall. Rhaella glanced toward Sansa for guidance.

Sansa stood up, silencing the room immediately. "It is to discuss the South. To discuss the other six kingdoms." She announced.

"The North wishes to remain independent, does it not?" Rhaella asked them, her confidence returning with Sansa by her side for encouragement.

"Aye!" Cried another man. Many followed suit.

Rhaella nodded her head in agreement, "It is also said the North knows no King, or Queen, aside from the one who's name is Stark. Am I right?"

She had noticed a slight hesitation before a response arose. Beside her Sansa had turned toward her, a quizzical expression on her face.

"But you are a Stark," she said.

"Through marriage," Rhaella smiled. "I was not born a Stark."

"It doesn't make you any less a Stark." Sansa placed a hand on Rhaella's arm. "You are as much my sister as Arya is."

Rhaella smiled softly, "But the North wishes to remain independent." She reminded Sansa. "No longer a kingdom of seven. I can respect that. Those who have stayed behind, those who did not wish for Jon to be their King or to bend the knee to Daenerys, those are the people I leave to you, Sansa. You are a Stark. You are the North."

Sansa shook her head, "We did not agree to this." She declared. "We agreed you would lay claim to the Iron Throne."

"And the North agreed they no longer wish to be associated with the other kingdoms." Rhaella replied, beckoning to the room. "They spoke." She turned to the many confused faces. "My lords, my ladies. Today, on this very day, I step back from role as your Queen, and I pass all responsibility to you," she turned back to Sansa. "Without you I would have not come so far. You are as much my sister as well. So please, tell me I leave our people in safe hands."

She hesitated, her blue eyes brimming with tears. Sansa nodded her head slowly, "Our people are in safe hands, I swear it."

Rhaella smiled, "Thank the Gods," she breathed as she embraced Sansa.