Chapter Text
The wind was a gentle brush through the tall grass and flowers around her, no longer holding the cutting chill from the winter that had just past. Having always enjoyed her hair to blow around with the air, Sansa had not braided it yet this morning, letting the long curls billow this way and that. The head band that Fawn had made her last year was tucked tightly around her forehead, and she had tied a magpie feather to a tiny little braid behind her ear that one of the children had done last night.
Sighing softly, Sansa tilted her head upwards, basking in the warm spring sunshine, a smile cracking. Peace was still a strange thing to feel, but in that moment, Sansa felt it taking root into her bones. The guilt was still present, but Sansa knew there wasn't much she could do to help her family, or what remained of it anyway. Jon was safe at the Wall. Arya...made her chest ache, but her sister was always the cunning and quick one of the two. If anyone could survive out in the wild, it was Arya. Sansa had to believe all this to keep her sanity.
A call of her name tore her from her thoughts and the peace of the moment, Sansa peeked over the wildflowers, being tucked low into the grass, to see Fox looking around for her. The older girl had her hands on her hips, surveying the field with a frown of confusion. For a short moment, Sansa was about ready to stand up and make her way over, but mischief welled up in it's place. She was starting to enjoy that returned feeling. Keeping low, Sansa did a quick crawl-crouch, towards the other girl, whose back was now turning to her.
The wind was on her side, creating a rustle that disguised her own movements, so she was able to get directly behind the older girl without being noticed. Biting her lip, forcing down a laugh but not a smile, Sansa jumped up and tackled the other to the ground with a war-cry, Fox flailing and letting out a sharp yelp in shock.
It soon turned to giggles as they rolled about in the field, tickling one another breathlessly. However, even though Sansa had the element of surprise, Fox was the stronger of the two and managed to roll them over so as to pin Sansa to the ground. Grinning at one another, trying to catch their breath, neither were prepared for the second battle cry as Fawn decided to join into the fray, tackling them into a pile of limbs and hair. 'When did she get here!?' Sansa's thoughts cried incredulously.
Laughing joyously though, Sansa stared up at the clear blue sky, so big and stretching wide above them, she knew peace once more.
Running back to the village, a bundle of wildflowers in their hands, the girls dodged around members of their tribe, parting ways with Fox as Sansa and Fawn hurried back to their home. Ducking into the hut, they were greeted with an exasperated Quick With Water, who chided them, “Really, you two? We have a spring ceremony to prepare for and you come barreling in like you've just gone rolling about in the grass?”
And at their sheepish faces and mildly guilty silence, she sighed, “Let me guess. That's exactly what you two have been doing.”
“Fox was there too! It wasn't just us!” Fawn protested, and Sansa quickly nodded in agreement.
“Of course she was with you two. It's like you three were born from the same womb at once.” And though she seemed irritated, there was still a smile on her face. And it grew more affectionate when they presented their flowers in apology.
Taking them gently, before giving them both a soft swat with the flowers at the girls' legs, Quick With Water commanded, “Now go get washed up. There is grass practically growing out of your hair.”
Giggling once more, they grabbed clothes and soaps, and ran off towards the river.
Moving about the village, helping out when called to, Sansa almost bumped into Arrowhead. With one glance at his unimpressed expression, Sansa recalled exactly what placed such a look on his face. Wincing, Sansa, ducked her head as he offered a too-light greeting, “Little Trout.”
Pulling on an innocent face, Sansa greeted in response, “Good afternoon, Arrowhead.”
“Yes, I suppose it is a good afternoon. The wind was not bad this morning either. Perfect for archery, in fact,” Sansa, wincing, could practically feel the sarcasm thick in his voice as he spoke, “I was just there this morning, and thought to myself, 'It's quite lonely right now. If only a little trout swam past to keep me company'.”
Sighing, Sansa earnestly apologized, “I didn't mean to forget, Arrowhead. I got distracted this morning and really wanted to enjoy all the freshly sprouted flowers.”
“Enjoying nature is good, but learning to shoot an arrow is a good skill to know. A skill that you, in fact, asked me to teach you.” Truly apologetic, Sansa nodded at his reprimand, murmuring another apology.
“Now,” He continued after Sansa showed honest contrition, “I think we have plenty of time before the feast to practice, hm?”
“Yes, Arrowhead.”
Being taught archery was a discussion she had had with Running Crane during the winter. She wanted to know other ways to help the tribe and provide for it. The older woman suggested learning to use a bow, and after some thought, Sansa decided it was a good way to remember Arya by. Everyday, she tried to do something in her time that would honor her family. Braiding her hair back with the same deftness and patience as her mother would. Playing around with Fox and Fawn when they were not busy with chores was how she remembered little Rickon. Storytelling to the younger ones had her thoughts always on Bran, and being diligent in her tasks made her think of Jon and Robb, always she dutiful when something needed to be done.
For her father, she honored the promise she made to herself on raising White Claw well. This time, she would not have her companion needlessly executed.
So learning to shoot an arrow straight was the best way to honor her little sister, Sansa decided resolutely.
But that didn't mean her shoulders and arms did not ache something fierce. And Arrowhead, most likely where he got his name from, was a strict and merciless teacher, uncaring if her arms were near trembling from pain. Just as long as she pushed herself to shoot the amount of shots he determined she should make each practise, then he did not care. Sometimes, when she passed him by after practise, Walking Crow would give her sympathetic glances. Seemed she was not the only one that had been under his brother's harsh tutelage. But she was firm in her resolve to carry on. She did not wish to be a burden on this new family she was in, never wanting to bring anyone down and be useless.
They had a spring harvest ceremony that late afternoon, food prepared and handed out as dancers in their regalia thanked the Great Spirits for the kind winter they had. No one had passed from sickness or starvation, so it was a good season. Sat in between Fox and Fawn, Sansa clapped along to the drum beat and singing, happy to understand the words they called up to the sky.
And when the sun dipped down, sky orange like the bonfire, Sansa tugged the girls up into the space for dancing, laughing and twisting about the circle.
“Come on, Sansa! You're so much more better than me at this!” Fawn pouted.
The red head clucked her tongue, not evening glancing at the older girl's direction as she continued with her neat stitches. “You wouldn't be so bad if you actually practised- Don't even think about shoving your work into my basket!”
Her head had snapped around to the other girl, shooting a glare where Fawn quickly snatched her hand back, the bundle included. “Please!” Fawn continued to wheedle as Walking Crow approached them. They were gathered off to the side of the village, under a willow tree. Sansa had suggested it, a breath of fresh air whilst the girls did their sewing. Fawn disliked it as much as Arya had.
The young man smirked down at Fawn, “I thought you declared yourself the best sewer in the tribe when we were younger?”
“I was foolish then! I know better.”
Sansa kept a keen eye on Fawn's hand as she snarked at the older girl, “I think you know less then you did when you were younger.”
Walking Crow chuckled and Sansa was momentarily taken by the sound of it, how his laughter brightened his usually severe expressions. And in her moment of weakness, Fawn struck.
“NO!”
Lashing out, Sansa grappled for the other girl's wrist, Fawn letting out a squeal as they tumbled to the side, wrestling.
“Gods damnit, Fawn! Do your own work!”
As she managed to get the other into a headlock, Fawn kicked her legs about, flailing and wiggling like a caught fish, “Never! I want to be a lazy bear forever!”
The arm strength she had gained from archery had Sansa in succeeding in wrapping her arms around Fawn's chest, legs coming up to lock around her body. The trapped girl wiggled about feebly before resigning to her capture. Panting, she dramatically wailed, “Forsaken! My sister has forsaken me!”
From the corner of her eyes, Sansa could see Walking Crow's hands covering his face, shaking his head in exasperation. Spitting some of Fawn's hair from her mouth, Sansa grumbled, “You are the worst, Fawn. I'm telling Running Crane.”
“Forsaken!”
With the blooming of spring, Sansa had began to notice a...childishness about herself coming into being. Perhaps it was Fawn's own playful behaviour rubbing off onto her, their close proximity making it hard to avoid. Not to mention, Sansa was not being held to a higher standard as a highborn lady. Here, in this tribe, she was just Sansa. Red Stranger. Little Trout. She was free to run about and play like her younger sibling had done, rolling in the grass and having stupid fights. As long as it didn't cause too much distraction from their tasks and chores, then many just watched them with an amused resignation. And Fox was always eager to join in on the play as well, making them a horrible trio, getting into mischief.
And where they started to run about and get into trouble, Walking Crow seemed to have designated himself as the one to make sure no one got injured or nothing was broken. Sansa amused herself privately at him seeming to be like a mixture of a guard and chaperon. But at least he appeared to be having fun trailing after them, chuckling at their antics.
Like today. About two weeks after the spring ceremony, Sansa was in the process of being taught how to climb a tree by Fox and Fawn. They had appeared aghast at learning she had never been allowed to climb during one of their many conversations about her land. After a hurry of finishing their chores, the two of them dragged Sansa off to the nearby woods, White Claw happily trotting after them. Which was how she found herself high up in a tree. The girls stood on the ground, calling up encouragements as Sansa firmly kept her eyes off the ground, sight fixed on where her hands would grasp, and making sure each foot was stable.
Ignoring each tremble of her knees and the scratching bark under her bare feet, Sansa steeled herself with every inch she went up. It was a different kind of exhausting, compared to running about or archery. It worked her arms, the heaving pull of her body up the branches, as well as centering her balance so as not to fall down.
Once their cheers seemed so distant to her ears, Sansa found a branch near her legs to take a seat, catching her breath. Breath that soon disappeared as she looked up, brushing away branches to stare out above the village. They were only on the outskirts of the forest, so nothing obstructed her view of the smoking huts, the fields where some where working in, as well as the distant herd of sheep and goats. It was a magnificent view, seeing the mountains surrounding her new home and people. She wanted to capture this forever in her mind.
“Sansa!”
At the call of her name, said girl looked down, and the lightness of seeing the world from a different angle swooped into her stomach. The ground was...very far away. Her resting heart leapt into her throat. How was she going to get down? It was a dizzying sight, and the ground appeared to get further away the longer she stared down. Her body was locked.
Sansa's words wavered when she finally found her voice to yell down, “I'm stuck!”
The girls went silent, then shared a glance. At the same time, Sansa noticed the figure of Walking Crow joining them. Too far up, Sansa couldn't hear what was discussed, but when Fox pointed up at her, the older boy turned his gaze to her. Sansa gave a sheepish wave before hastily holding onto a branch again, not wishing to upset her balance. Though she could barely make out their faces, Sansa knew the exact expression of bewilderment and exasperation Walking Crow was making.
“Face the trunk and lower your feet slowly!” Fawn instructed.
“Don't look down, only to where you're stepping!” Fox then added.
It was both helpful but not. Easier said than done. Shaking all over, Sansa glanced at a branch not a foot away from her dangling legs. Holding tight to the branches overhead, she began to slowly lower herself. Her stomach swooped into her chest at the sensation of no footing, before she managed to find it.
Closing her eyes, Sansa took deep breaths. How Bran was able to climb Winterfell, Sansa would never be able to understand.
Following their calls of comfort, encouraging her to keep going and that she was almost there – she wasn't, she knew exactly how high she was up, but it was the thought that counted – Sansa kept lowering herself down. Like climbing up, she needed to make sure her feet were balanced and stable on branches before continuing down. If a branch seemed to bow too much, it was not a good one to stand on.
“I hate you both!” Sansa called down to them. Their laughter was uncalled for, but closer, which had her tense shoulders relaxing. She was nearly there. In her sudden rush to get down quicker than the slow, steady crawl from before, Sansa stepped on a weak branch. She felt the give first before hearing the snap -
A short scream left her as she fell, the world spinning, a branch hitting her side as she tumbled down jarred the breath from her lungs, cutting off the cry. Small impacts from the other branches landed on her arms and legs, pain flaring and dying in short sudden bursts. Though she scrambled to find a hold, soon Sansa was falling in empty air, squeezing her eyes shut to brace for hitting the floor.
Arms then locked around her, forcing air from her lungs at their tight hold over her stomach, her falling halting for a brief second before continuing to the ground. Only, instead of landing on the hard forest earth, she was cushioned by a body. Said body let out a grunt at the drop of her weight onto him.
A tongue then licked at Sansa's face, making her face screw up, shoving away an excited or worried White Claw as she tried to catch her breath.
“Look out!” One of the girls suddenly called, Sansa's eyes snapping open to see a branch fall towards them. Arms around her waist once more, her world span again as they rolled across the floor, dodging the large branch that thumped the ground where she just was. There was a moment of still silence, the sudden rush of the situation settling into everyone's minds.
“You three,” Walking Crow then panted from under her, “Are the worst.”
She couldn't help the wheeze of laughter that escaped her burning lungs, the excitement of that last few seconds making her almost hysterical. Rolling off him to lay by his side, Sansa glanced up and noticed the slight tilt of his lips as he looked down at her. Fond and amused. Now without the fear of falling or being impaled by a piece of tree, Sansa noticed just how close she was to him, recalling how he had caught her. She knew he was a strong young man, he walked around shirtless most of the time, so Sansa knew he had muscles from everyday use in the fields, hunting, or fighting practise. Still, to have them used on her was...
Shaking her head of such thoughts, Sansa sat up, stumbling to her feet where Fawn caught her by the elbow, looking close to tears as she cried, “Sansa! I'm so sorry! I'll never make you climb a tree again.”
Rolling her eyes at her dramatics, though her body was trembling from all the adrenalin, Sansa pulled the older girl into her arms. Fawn hugged her tightly, Sansa breathing out a shaking breath, relaxing into the hold. She was never climbing a tree ever again.
When a groan sounded behind her, Sansa broke free of the hug to step back to Walking Crow, holding out a hand. Her body twinged with pain, the injuries gathered finally coming to light. And he must be aching something fierce from softening her fall. Dark eyes stared up at her for a short second when he noticed her helping hand, before he reached out, hand clasping her arm. His touch was warm. Bracing her feet, Sansa tugged him up, Fox and Fawn surrounding him, looking with worry at his back. They muttered at the scratches and forming bruises, and guilt hit Sansa hard. He got those because of her foolishness.
Twisting around to look at himself, Sansa saw him grimace, before shrugging. “Had worse when wrestling with my brother.” Looking back at her, Walking Crow gave her a once over, before reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear, “Glad you're alright, Sansa.” Her ears felt hot.
Noticing then that he had some twigs in his hair, and she couldn't help stepping closer, starting to pluck them from his hair. It was so long, not braided currently. Some stupid part of her mind wanted to brush it. Once more shoving such thoughts away, Sansa said with heavy gratitude, “Thank you for catching me, Walking Crow. I'm sorry that you got hurt-” She then tired to say, only for him to cut her off with a firm, “I said would always save you, Sansa. I keep my word.”
Sansa's heart fluttered, stomach swooping again. Though this time, it was not from falling out of a tree.
“You'll still need some balm on those scratches, idiot man.” Fawn then remarked, cutting through the private moment. Stepping back, Sansa cleared her throat and nodded at the young man, “I can get you some.” Before fleeing the scene, face burning. Limbs cried out, Sansa knew she was in for a painful day tomorrow, but she would not stop her hasty retreat. She didn't need such feelings ruining the good thing she had here with the tribe.
Romance was not in Sansa's future anymore.