Sansa Stark | Alayne Stone (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dohaeris) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deercountry2022-04-07 11:20 pm
dohaeris) wrote in deercountry2022-04-07 11:20 pm
Entry tags:
you're not my homeland anymore
Who: sansa and her crs
What: catchall for non-event logs. mostly she wants to tell some friends her name. also for some prompts that are simply too long for the event post
When: early april, broadly. late april for sibling-based event prompts
Where: her house (or wherever windows into the world of ice and fire can be found)
Content Warnings: canon-typical violence. character warnings in her app. uhhhh spoilers for asoiaf as if her canonpoint wasn't enough
[starters in the comments I just really wanted to use the taylor swift lyrics for this]
What: catchall for non-event logs. mostly she wants to tell some friends her name. also for some prompts that are simply too long for the event post
When: early april, broadly. late april for sibling-based event prompts
Where: her house (or wherever windows into the world of ice and fire can be found)
Content Warnings: canon-typical violence. character warnings in her app. uhhhh spoilers for asoiaf as if her canonpoint wasn't enough
[starters in the comments I just really wanted to use the taylor swift lyrics for this]
no subject
That's your family, right? [She says, both to announce her presence and to state the obvious.] Also, hi, I'm here.
[Real smooth, Abernant.]
cw mention of teen menstruation ig
Oh! Yes, that's--not the king, obviously, or the man with the golden hair.
[she smiles, a little sadly.]
It didn't happen like this.
[in front of her, the household of winterfell has assembled once again. the wolves are grown, now, and the little sansa has gained a few inches. sansa's amused and pleased to see that rickon has also grown a little. this time the party on the kingsroad carries a lizard-lion banner. they soon reveal themselves to be a small group of crannogmen on foot, led by a boy and a girl. ned stark breaks out in a grin.
"Meera! Jojen! It's good to see you," he says.
sixteen year old sansa is delighted to see the reeds, but not-yet-fourteen year old sansa's face falls. sansa gets a sinking feeling in her stomach and turns towards adaine.]
You have to promise me that no matter what that little girl says, you won't think I'm too stupid to learn magic.
[she says it lightly, but she's not entirely joking. ned and the children embrace. robb and jon practically fall over themselves in their efforts to reach the girl, while arya and bran accost the boy with barking wolves. theon wanders off, and only sansa is left with lady. catelyn looks at her with fond amusement.
soon the whole group of them have filed into the castle, and sansa follows. she finds herself in her mother's solar, watching her mother and her younger self cut fabric.
"What kind of lady is she? She doesn't even wear dresses," says the younger sansa. the older sansa cannot help but groan.
"Perhaps she doesn't have any dresses," says catelyn gently. "You could make one for her, as a welcome present."
"But what if she hates me, like Arya?" says the younger sansa. her voice swells with tears. "I don't see why everyone should hate me, because I like dresses, and music, and not getting dirty riding horses and shooting arrows like Arya."
"Nobody hates you, sweet one," says Catelyn. "Arya is only trying to find her way, and I'm sure Lady Meera would be glad of any gift you had to give her."
the younger sansa nods and resumes cutting. the older sansa leaves the room, only to find her younger self, now in a high-backed collar pinned closed with seedpods, holding a similar dress in darker greens outside one of the doors from the guest wing of the castle. sansa distantly remembers that she'd started bleeding that year.
"Lady Meera? It's Sansa. I thought you might like to have this."
the door opens, and meera reed welcomes her with a big smile.
"Did you make that for me?" she asks, wide-eyed. "It's beautiful."
"I thought you might like to have a dress like we wear in Winterfell," says the younger sansa, very like her older counterpart. "I can show you how we make them, if you don't know."
"I would like that very much," says meera, accepting the dress and wondering at it. "Cloth comes very dear to us, in the Neck, and fine gowns would be ruined very quickly, but we do work all manner of hides and seal them against water. I could show you, if you'd like."
the younger sansa beams, again not unlike her older self.
"I would like that very much."
the older sansa walks down the hall and out another door, where meera, now in a northern gown hitched out of the way in one hand, walks arm-in-arm with robb in the godswood, grey wind trotting at their heels. sansa laughs aloud in delight. she can't make out what they're saying, and moves to get closer, before she catches herself--bran and rickon may yet be alive, but robb is not. better not to wound herself any more than she has to. she strides back to the castle, and pushes past another door into the great room, where her family and her parents' advisors all seem to be massed around bran and jojen. bran now stands over a head taller than him. there is a strange, fierce woman with rickon and catelyn, dressed in a mix of the men and women's clothes worn by the castlefolk of winterfell. jon snow is not among them, sansa realizes.
"Jojen's visions come from the Old Gods," says bran firmly. "He's never wrong."
"You can't know that," says maester luwin. "You can't know that they're anything but dreams."
there is a glance between the stark children that sansa immediately recognizes. they've begun to have wolf dreams, too.
"He dreamed we should come here," says meera.
"Lord Howland did write me of this," says ned.
"You can't be thinking of letting the two of them go off on their own," says catelyn.
"I can go with them!" says arya. "I have my sword, and I'm better with a bow."
"I have a sword too, and I'm still better than you," says bran.
"You are not!" says arya, indignant.
"It's too dangerous," says jojen.
"If it's dangerous, I should go," says robb. meera looks at him in a panic.
"I'm going too," she says.
"No one is going anywhere," says ned. "Not yet."
"Father, please," says bran. "Winter is coming."
"And you'll go in the spring," says ned firmly.
sansa turns around and there is a feast. it seems the entire north has come to celebrate the harvest. she watches her parents dance, and robb and meera; the fierce woman now pulls jon snow out of a sulk and into a dance--theon sneers at them and slinks off with one of the kitchen girls, arya swings rickon around while bran and jojen sit at the head table, deep in conversation. her younger self dances with a karstark boy, then a tallheart, magnificently outfitted in a sky blue dress thick with embroidered leaves and acorns. she cannot find roose bolton and determinedly stops herself from seeking him out. instead she winds her way closer to her parents, and catches her mother muttering something about writing highgarden. then the musicians start up with 'the night that ended,' and all hope of conversation is lost.]
no subject
They say something about you, but whether they're real or not... Well, she just hopes this isn't the spawn of Sansa's worst fears in the way that Cassandra's world was for Adaine.
She blinks when Sansa asks her to promise not to decide she's too stupid, both faintly amused, flabberghasted and somewhat concerned.]
Um. I promise? I don't think there's any risk of that, honestly. Neither of us are who we used to be. [A beat.] Plus, I think most people say and do dumb things at that age.
[Can it be worse than Adaine bludgeoning a woman to death on her first day of school? Or stealing a book that was keeping demons from being summoned into the school because her sister told her to and then promptly crying about it while giving it to the head of the conspiracy that wanted to unleash an ancient tyrant onto the world?
Probably not. Adaine watches the whole scene. While yes, the young Sansa was a bit rude and judgemental about her standards of femininity, it is none-the-less cute how earnest she is in presenting Meera with a dress.
She follows after Sansa through the whole vision, only sparing a quick glance toward Robb and Meera as Sansa walks away. There's something bittersweet there.
She watches the dance, and the siblings bantering in a playful manner and she starts to feel something bittersweet within her as well. Is this what a family looks like? Something looms over the horizon but they're happy, or they seem it. In Adaine's own house, dinners were silent, save for the empty conversations that Aelwyn would have with her parents, anything to keep the waters calm. Or sometimes she and Adaine would fight, using the gatherings as a battleground where Adaine would be punished no matter who was right or wrong, and they would hurt eachother and pretend to be glad for it.
She's not unfamiliar with the melancholy of watching parents that love their children. But it stings. She wonders, briefly, if this is what she'd have, if she had stayed in her own world with her new family.
She joins Sansa, glancing at her and gently laying a hand on her arm and leaning in to talk to her.] Doing okay...?
cw gore, rape mention, ramsay typical violence
Yes. It's good to see them like this.
[she reaches out to give adaine's arm an answering squeeze.]
I'm glad that you can know them, a little.
[sometimes she wants everyone to know what bright lights her enemies took from this world, so they'll hate them as much as she does. she turns from adaine and pushes open the heavy doors to find herself in her father's solar. he holds a piece of parchment in his hand, and her mother stands before him.
"Joffrey is marrying the Tyrell girl," says ned.
sansa's mouth twists fondly to hear about margaery.
"You're not thinking of going, are you?" asks cat.
ned sighs, heavy and familiar. he sets the parchment down and rubs his temples.
"Robert will never forgive me. But with what happened to Lady Hornwood, and now the miller's wife missing," says ned. "I can't leave you. We can't leave this."
sansa's brows draws together. what happened to lady hornwood? catelyn walks around the desk to squeeze ned's shoulders.
"Robert always forgives you," she says. "We have our own wedding to think about, now."
sansa's heart skips, and when she leaves the solar, it seems the entire north is gathered once again in the godswood. she can see her own family clustered near the heart tree. for once, she and arya have on silk instead of linen or wool; her dress is a bright grey-blue with a high double-collar, and arya's is a darker grey still knotted in the front. she's amused, and pleased, that arya's dress has been hemmed above her ankles. the younger sansa has reached her full height, now, and even arya looks a little taller, though bran seems almost twice her height. jon snow stands with jory and ser rodrik, just behind them, in shining black. closest to the heart tree is robb, beaming, in a fine blue tunic with a matching cloak, its clasps two finely wrought direwolves. on the other side of the tree stand a scattered few crannogmen, and jojen and lady reed, dressed in dark green winterfell finery. the crowd parts, and howland reed walks meera down the center. she wears a stiff ivory bodice smocked to look like lizard-lion scales over ivory silks, and a dark green maidencloak with matching scales. sansa watches the ceremony with shining eyes and a tight-lipped smile, breaking out in a grin when her younger self reaches behind her and hands robb the white-and-grey marriage cloak. she can recognize her own hand in the gowns and the cloaks, and even in jon's dashing black outfit.
soon the godswood erupts in cheering and singing, and the crowd makes their way back to the castle for the feast. sansa follows them, but she finds herself in her mother's solar, where she's pleased to see her younger self sewing a leather shirt while her mother reviews some accounts. robb bursts in with a piece of parchment.
"Theon's uncle has overtaken Pyke. He and his sister are stuck in with their mother at Harlaw," says robb, rather forcefully.
sansa wonders what her father could be doing, that robb hasn't gone to him, but catelyn only lifts her gaze, and her eyebrows.
"He should be writing the king," she says.
"He's asking us for help," says robb. "This Euron Greyjoy is a madman intent on sacking the Seven Kingdoms. The Harlaws all agree."
"My boy, we have no ships," says catelyn, sighing. "Lannisport was hit hard in the Pyke Rebellion. Tell him to write Kevan Lannister."
"The Lannisters have all gone mad with Tywin dead. You know that," says robb.
"I know that Cersei seems to be taking the deaths very poorly. I haven't heard a word said against Kevan," says catelyn.
"Why didn't Father build ships after Pyke? We have the timber," says robb.
"You sound like Lord Manderly. Write him; if you can get him to put up the cost himself, they'll call you Robb the Shipwright," says catelyn. "I'll write Tallheart Square and Bear Island."
robb nods and walks out of the room. the younger sansa looks up from her sewing.
"Father wanted to save the coin for winter, if we needed to buy in more food than we thought," she asks her mother. "Didn't he?"
Catelyn smiles.
"That's right, sweet girl," she says. "Winter is coming."
the older sansa smiles too. she turns around and finds the wolfswood on the other side of the door.
robb, meera, bran, and arya, all in riding leathers, are standing around a bloody mass. robb has put an arm out to stop bran and arya coming too close, but they peer over it, matching frowns on all their faces.
"Is it the miller's wife?" asks meera.
"We'll have to bring it home and show the miller the body," says robb grimly.
"But her skin is all gone," says bran. arya smacks him on the arm. "What?"
grey wind, summer, and nymeria come loping into view.
"The two of you, run back and get us something to wrap her in," says robb. "We can't just strap her to the back of a horse like a deer."
bran stops suddenly and sniffs the air.
"Dogs," he says. "Dogs bit her."
"Go!" says robb.
they scamper off with their wolves. meera crouches down next to the body, and grey wind sniffs at it.
"It's been skinned," she says, frowning. "Very neatly."
"Flayed," robb sighs. "A man's been with her, too. I didn't want them to smell it. My father was afraid of this, after they found Lady Hornwood."
"She wasn't flayed," says meera.
"No," says robb. "But my father's had to caution Lord Bolton in the past, and she married his son."
sansa frowns. she'd been told that roose bolton's son had died a long time ago. she walks back to the castle, and finds the children at breakfast. she smiles, then her father storms into the room with maester luwin.
"Castle Black has fallen," he says.
jon leaps to his feet. robb says "What?" at the same that the younger sansa says "How?" and arya says "To who?" rickon starts crying, ducking his head to hide behind his hair. sansa is gratified to see her younger self stand up and go to him. jeyne poole next to her seems less impressed, and sighs.
"A King-beyond-the-wall. Mance Rayder," he nods at jon. "Get your things."
"No!" cries arya.
"What about Uncle Benjen?" cries bran.
"I'm coming," says robb.
"I need you here with your mother," says ned. "It's poor timing, what with Lord Bolton and his son, and all the women."
He pauses, and his shoulders seem to sag.
"I don't know what's happened with Benjen." he says. "I'm sorry."
"I should have left with him," says jon, and storms off. arya runs after him, and meera looks at robb helplessly.
it occurs to sansa that her jon snow shouldn't have made lord commander before benjen stark. it had seemed so natural in light of everything else that happened that she hadn't even stopped to question it. one more person she has to mourn.
"Do we have enough to bring in Lord Bolton and his son?" robb asks ned.
"I don't know," says ned. "I doubt he'll say anything."
"The wolves," says rickon, wiping his eyes with the younger sansa's sleeve. "Grey Wind. He knows."
robb and meera look at him, astonished.
"Grey Wind smelled a man on the miller's wife," says robb slowly.
ned's face moves as if he has questions he doesn't know how to ask, and not enough time to ask them.
"It will have to do," he says. "We're riding through the night."]
cw for mentions of torture
Well, it's yet another reminder that they were disgusting people who deserved what they got.
There's a lot to digest here, really. First on her mind is...
1. Are they getting married?
2. Why?
3. They're her age? Who is that sure of themselves at 16?
What a bizarre world... Sansa might see her watch this whole ceremony incredulously with perhaps the slightest bit of judgement, despite herself.
She watches the rest with a solemn expression, and a displeased curl of her lip. She wants to protect these people she doesn't know from this cruel world she doesn't know. In her own world, she and her party would probably be fighting on one of these fronts.
But... which? She thinks she understands these Starks, and why they are rushing against Lord Bolton. It's the most immediately vile threat, and she would personally love to kill him. Or worse. Like they did with Biz, pleading for his life and whimpering as Riz took his fingers off one by one.]
If there's a civil war, and they fight Lord Bolton, then they'll be in an inopportune position if Euron attacks... or if King Rayder - [A bit on the nose in her opinion] - attacks. That's a war on three fronts.
Logically, the King should muster an army to fight King Rayder or his own subject. But I feel like this is all... [A bit more contrived than that?
Trench is a cruel place, huh.] I don't know. I guess we'll see.
cw ramsay violence, death, mention of asoiaf slavery
Lord Bolton is meant to be my father's bannerman. He was one of the traitors that killed my mother and brother. We have the power to deal with him on our own. He shouldn't have enough people to put up much of a fight.
[she turns to adaine, eyebrows raised.]
The war that happened had more than just three fronts, but nobody ever took the Wall. It is a little...[contrived is a good word for it. little do they know.] The Seven Kingdoms can hardly go ten years without a civil war. I suppose someone's trying to tell me it was inevitable, no matter what any of us did.
[this still seems preferable to what did happen. she turns, and the children are breaking their fast in the great hall. it's a glum scene, with bran and jojen whispering together and arya sulkily stabbing some eggs with a fork. rickon seems determined to tear a piece of fried bread into the smallest pieces possible. robb seems to be taking his father's role to heart, and breakfasting elsewhere, perhaps with their mother. her younger self walks in, now almost indistinguishable from her true self, except in dress. meera reed walks with her.
"Where's Jeyne?" asks the dream sansa.
"Who cares," mutters the dream arya.
both sansas' eyebrows knit together. the dream one takes her place at the table.
it's not long after that the pooles come rushing in with her mother. the girls and their mother are crying, and varon looks fit to explode. robb follows after them.
"My daughter is missing," shouts varon poole. "Where is Jeyne?"
the real sansa's eyes widen in horror.]
No!
["He couldn't have gotten in here without us knowing," robb frowns.
"He took Kyra," says arya, giving her eggs one last final stab before setting her fork down to watch the pooles.
"Lady knows her," says the dream sansa. "We should send the wolves."
"I'll go," says bran, leaping from the table. jojen follows him.
the dream sansa draws her hands behind her back, and looks down, frowning. then she looks at the pooles.
"Has Jeyne mentioned anyone to you? She's been so cross with me lately, for not spending time with her," she says. "I thought she was only jealous. I do spend time with her, I just spend time with Arya and Lady Meera too."
"Jeyne's not stupid," shouts varon poole. "She knows better than to talk to any bastard of Bolton!"
both sansas draw a breath.
"Perhaps he told her he was someone else," says the dream sansa, slowly. "A son of one of the forest houses, or a squire, or a merchant on the White Knife. Someone she might like to marry, someday."
the eldest of the remaining poole girl nods tearfully, clinging to her mother.
"She said she met a trader from the White Knife," she says. "She said he had his own boat, and a ship in White Harbor."
"Why would he go to the trouble?" asks robb. it's a thoughtful question, not an incredulous one.
"I don't know," says the dream sansa. "Why has he been murdering women here, and not around the Dreadfort?"
"Because they'd recognize him," says arya.
"Or Lord Bolton's been covering it up," robb sighs. "I can get some men together to search. Meera?"
"Let me have a little breakfast first," she says, a sort of deadpan twist to her words. "Besides, it would better to have two groups of us looking, to cover more ground."
"Bran will find her," mutters arya, poking at her eggs again.
sansa turns and finds herself deep in the wolfswood. robb, meera, and the strange fierce woman are standing around another bloody mass with a dozen or so winterfell men and three of the wolves; lady is among them, with grey and white ribbons around her neck. she whimpers and whines, grey wind and summer try to soothe her. immediately sansa grasps what has happened and steps back, shaking her head. is this what she's meant to see? her friend dying alone and in agony? she doesn't know that the guards in king's landing were any kinder. meera covers the body with a cloth.
she turns again to find herself in her mother's solar. the dream sansa, eyes red from crying, furiously stitches a black dress. robb and meera stand in front of the desk, catelyn sits behind it with a piece of parchment.
"The Hand of the King," she says, a bemused half-smile on her face. "It's Petyr."
the real sansa's eyes widen.]
No...
[it's more breathy and defeated than the last one.
robb's eyebrows knit together very much like sansa's do.
"What Petyr?" he asks.
"Petyr Baelish. He stayed with us at Riverrun," says catelyn. she glances at the letter again, frowning. "He says the king's been preoccupied with the Targaryen girl across the Narrow Sea. It seems she's managed to hatch some dragon eggs."
the dream sansa looks up sharply from her sewing. robb looks skeptical, meera looks astonished.
"What?" asks robb, incredulous.
"He says she's hatched three dragons and caused some disturbance in Qarth, and that she's toppled the cities of Slaver's Bay," says catelyn, eyebrows raised. "King Robert is bracing for some kind of invasion and will not send any troops. And the Small Council remains quite divided on the matter of the Iron Islands, with Cersei believing Euron Greyjoy means to show her favor by sparing Lannisport to go after the Shield Islands. Of course, the Tyrells feel quite differently."
"No one could be that stupid," says robb.
the real sansa scoffs.
"Stone dragon eggs?" asks meera, more thoughtful than anything.
"However, Petyr would be glad to escort what troops he has to Winterfell and on to the Wall," catelyn continues. "My brother's, I imagine, and Lysa's."
"Aye, well, that's something," robb says, and sighs.
the real sansa steps back again, shaking her head.]
He can't come here. He'll ruin everything.
[when she turns around this time, she's in the great hall once again. ser rodrik leads a short, pale man in chains, while one of the guards hauls roose bolton behind them. robb watches grimly from her father's chair with his arms folded, meera stands at his side in riding leathers. catelyn sits in her usual place at his other side, her face a steely mask. sansa is surprised to see her dream self standing behind her in a black, high collared gown.
"Ramsay Snow, you stand accused of several counts of murder, including that of your late wife the Lady Hornwood, and Jeyne of house Poole, daughter of Winterfell," says robb. "How do you plead?"
"I forgot I had a wife," says the short, pale man. "Oh, well, that was the trouble, wasn't it?"
roose bolton says nothing.
"Lady Hornwood was found starved to death, her own fingers in her throat," says robb coldly. "How do you plead?"
"Did she die of starvation, or suffocation?" asks ramsay snow mildly. "You were a bit unclear."
"You set your dogs on young women, raped them, and flayed them alive," says catelyn, in a voice like flint on steel. "How do you plead?"
"Oh, I shot them too. We had a proper hunt," says ramsay.
"You admit your guilt?" asks robb.
ramsay snow makes as if he's going to speak, hesitates, and then leaps on ser rodrik, looping his chains over his neck and yanking them back to choke him.
robb leaps to his feet immediately, and a dozen guards all draw their swords, but at the same time, arya comes in with her dancing teacher, dressed for lessons. sansa hadn't realized her father brought him all the way to winterfell.
robb shouts for her to get back, catelyn stands and cries 'Arya!" and ramsay turns his gleeful, malicious attention on her. syrio forel draws his sword, but it's arya who gets there first. her little sword pierces ramsay snow's wool tunic and drives straight through his heart. his grip slackens and ser rodrik stumbles out from under it, gasping. arya steps back and withdraws her sword, a look of fright on her face.
"I'm sorry," she says, glancing between her bloodied sword and her mother.
"Don't be," mutters the dream sansa.
ramsay falls to his knees and bleeds. catelyn rushes forward and wraps her arms around arya, who begins to cry. her little sword clatters to the ground.
"You're all right, sweet one," says catelyn.
the guards advance on ramsay. he looks genuinely frightened, and then he dies. robb turns his attention towards roose.
"Lord Bolton," he says.
roose bolton stares distantly and placidly at nothing.
"Domeric wanted to meet him. He wanted to know his brother. They spent the night laughing and feasting. The next day Domeric was dead," says roose flatly. sansa recalls that the lost bolton heir's name was domeric. "I did what I could."
"You taught him to flay," says robb. and then, to ser rodrik. "I'll need a greatsword."
when sansa turns again she sees her dream self enter the great hall with rickon. she seems surprised and concerned to find it empty of starks and reeds.
"Where is everyone?" the dream sansa asks a passing serving girl, and urges rickon on towards the table.
"I wouldn't know, milady," the girl answers before scurrying on.
but the dream sansa doesn't make it more than halfway across the room before the doors are flung open with surprising force, with arya racing forward ahead of her mother, meera, and robb. she clutches a piece of parchment in one hand.
"Bran's run off with Jojen!" arya cries. "Their stupid wolf dream mission beyond the Wall!"
"What?" asks the dream sansa sharply.
"Jojen's ill," says meera shakily. "He needs me to hunt for him, he won't survive."
"Bran can hunt," says robb, reaching for her. "They'll be all right."
"Robb Stark! You will search for your brother," snaps catelyn.
"I never said I wouldn't, mother," says robb.
"Summer is with them," offers rickon. "We'd know if they died."
"What?" asks catelyn, her voice strained with emotion and confusion.
the stark children all look at one another.
"He's right," says robb slowly.
meera's posture changes, becomes something conciliatory.
"The children are wargs," she says gently. "They can...enter the minds of the direwolves. And the direwolves share a connection with one another. They--communicate, in a way. Even when they aren't close."
"I don't understand," says catelyn faintly.
"It's old northern magic," says meera, placing careful hands at catelyn's arm and back. "Why don't you sit down, and we can tell you about it?"
warg, thinks the real sansa, and listens.]
no subject
Just... remember, it's an illusion, Sansa. Like a dream. [They're not in the Nightmare King's realm now, the dreams aren't real. Not yet. She grimaces slightly, she knows it's not easy all the same.
Even now she wants to reach through the illusion and kill Ramsay Snow and Petyr Baelish both.
Her eyes, however, dart open wide with surprise when they mention the warging power and Adaine gives Sansa a puzzled expression.] Did you know about that?
no subject
Oh! I wanted to tell you, I saw Bran in a bubble-window, and Arya. They got away! They're hiding too, and Rickon, if the bubble-windows are true. And--if I come from the same...bubble. He was in a cave beyond the Wall with the Children of the Forest! I think that's where he must be running off to, here. He told me my magic wasn't only my paleblood. [she smiles fondly.] He said he had the wolf dreams first, and he's learning to be a greenseer. That was the strange part, that he was learning from an old greenseer, some prince from a hundred years ago. I would never have dreamed that. And Arya's in Braavos, which looked much better than King's Landing. She's learning to be an assassin, a very good one. Perhaps Littlefinger will hire her by mistake and she can kill him.
[she says this lightly, and with humor. it's clear she thinks this outcome is too good to be true. her smile turns wistful.]
She was dressed as a fishwife, selling oysters for cover, but she seemed much more comfortable on the docks than she ever was as a lady, even a lady with a sword.
[she wonders if it were not only the sewing and the cumbersome gowns, or even the prospect of marrying some highborn idiot that arya misliked, but something deeper--perhaps the very thing that called sansa to her station. her mouth twists.]
And she kept her clothes much nicer, too.
[to be fair, they were nicer than any fishwife ever had in king's landing. sansa has been trying to copy the design of the little jacket onto a dress for herself.]