Jon was telling her that they ought to remain united in front of the lords of Winterfell, but Sansa Stark was not listening. She had to make her brother see sense.
“You are one of the bravest men I will ever know,” she said, changing track. “You have fought monsters people did not believe existed. But war is more than painting your friends in white, your enemies in black and facing them with swords. We cannot know if we can trust Targaryens, Lannisters and Greyjoys. Even our father broke fealty to Aerys Targaryen when he had to.”
“That was different,” Jon said. “If Daenerys were to kidnap you, Winterfell would raise its banners in equal fury. Yes, we need to make this alliance for a better chance at survival, but I do not mean to betray it the moment the war is over. It is not the Stark way-”
“And what is the Stark way?” Sansa snapped suddenly, hot tears reaching her eyes. “Doing your duty to a monarch who has no interest in being one, like our father did? Keeping trust in Roose Bolton like Robb? We do not even know where his body lays!”
There was silence. Sansa regretted yelling at her brother, but at least Jon was listening now. “I loved my father,” she said, voice lowering, “and I loved my brother, but they made stupid mistakes and paid the price. I will not see that happen to you nor me.”
*
Comments