Chapter Text
Sansa could not remember the last time she had a good nights sleep. After everything she had been through nothing in her life was as simple as it used to be, but sleep was one of those unseen consequences, well unseen to everyone but her. So the fact that the faint sound of footsteps woke her was no surprise, however as she began to take in her surrounding her suspicion and unease began to rear its ugly head.
It was to early in the morning for the maids to be coming to make a fire, as there is a gentle warmth still in the room and her guess was that it had only been an hour or so since it went out. It also couldn’t be a changing of the guards since Brienne knew she was a light sleeper and either had the same soldier stand guard all night or would do it herself.
Something was wrong, her entire body could sense it in the air. There was more muffled noise, now right outside her room. Slowly she reached under her pillow for the dagger hiding there. She didn’t think she needed it, and she certainly did not know how to use it, but Arya had insisted that weapons be kept in almost all the corners of Winterfell including Sansa room. Now she was glad it was there and only wish her sister would have spent time actually teaching her how to use it.
She could hear the door slowly open, the drumming of her heart and nothing else. Her mind swirled with every possibility; Cersei sending someone to kill or kidnap her, a Northern Lord sending one of their sons to dishonor her in hopes of a marriage alliance, Ramsay coming back from the dead seeking his revenge, or was it was simply her maid getting an early start on her day.
She remained in bed, covered by the layers of furs and blankets trying to keep out the cold, and pretended to be asleep with her hand firmly gripping the handle of the dagger, always prepared for the worst, as life had taught her to be.
In what seemed like an instant hands pulled at the furs above her and she swung the dagger violently hitting something hard but in the blur of flesh, furs, armor, and clothes she couldn’t tell if it had any effect on the attacker; not until she felt more hands grab her arm. She pulled away instinctually and went for another strike this time she knew she hit someone because she hears a yelp, but the mans words were not in a language that she is familiar with. Immediately after she hit one of her attackers, one of the men hit her back while another disarmed her. She kicked and tried in vain to pull her arm away again but they were better prepared this time and held on tight, so much so that her arm was starting to hurt, and the man she struck with the dagger was twisting her left arm painfully. Once they had her ripped out of bed they gaged her, stopping her from screaming for help.
Whoever was responsible wanted this done quickly and quietly. She was pulled toward her door and to her relief they were clearly not going to murder her; it gave her some comfort knowing that whatever was going to happen she could think of a plan and maybe get out of this situation mostly unscathed.
As soon as they pulled her past the threshold of her door she could feel the cold hit her body, she was still in her night clothes and even thought they were significantly warmer than the ones people in the south wear, but they were still not meant to be worn outside in the middle of winter.
All that left her mind when she saw the body laying near her door, blood already pooling around the corpse. In this moment she was grateful she had told Brienne to take the night to talk to Jaime, who had just yesterday arrived at Winterfell with out the army Cersei had promised Jon, not that she was at all surprised. Brienne was the only one she could trust to talk to Jaime and the only person Jaime trusted enough to talk to honestly; and so she was the natural choice to find out if he was really here for the reasons he claimed. Sansa felt sad for the man laying near her doorway but she had seen so many bodies that it no longer held the same effect it once had, she was glad it had not been Brienne and that was the extent of her feelings on the matter.
The halls held little light so it was still hard to make out exactly who these men were, but she could tell who they were not, they were not Westerosi. They were moving as quickly and quietly as possible with Sansa still struggling against their every move, she gave up quickly on that however. She was not her sister or Jon so there was little chance she was going to get out of this situation by force, she had to use her brain and saved her strength for a moment when she might have a chance of escaping.
Whoever these large foreign men were they eventually took her to the courtyard. Here it was brighter, even though it was still early morning, and she could finally make out the figures who had grabbed her. These men came with the Dragon Queen. She did not recognize their faces; however she could tell by their armor and it now made sense as to why she had never heard their language before.Daenerys and her soldiers had only been in Winterfell for a little while, but she had tried to keep her distance from both the woman and her men.
This does not make sense, why were these men doing this? Maybe Cersei had gotten to them when Jon and Daenerys went to King’s Landing. Maybe they are traitors and found Sansa appealing enough to take with them when they flea. They could not possibly be doing this under the orders of their Queen, Sansa could tell Daenerys did not like her but what reason does she have for kidnaping her.
No she must think about all the possibilities and Daenerys was mad just like her father she didn’t need a reason to kidnap Sansa. The man in front of her and the two men beside her halted. She was exhausted and scared but put on her mask of indifference and waited to be yanked or pushed again; instead the large man in front of her moved and standing on the platform on the far end of the court yard was Daenerys Targaryen.
It is her.