7

Chapter 7: Seven

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

SEVEN

Sansa was letting her mind drift again as Naruto slept, floating away to where she was small and furred, curled up with her packmates, when a large, furred face looked over her, golden eyes glowing like twin suns, long fangs like ivory blades set in a gaping, black-lipped maw. "Hello Dream-Walker," The Wolf rumbled, and oh, Sansa thought, before she was blinking, back in her own body, little gasps falling from her lips.

Beside her, Naruto made a sleepy noise, and she absentmindedly patted his shoulder with a tiny hand, soothing him enough that he shuffled his way back to sleep.

Oh, she thought again, staring up at the unchanging ceiling, because it all made sense now, didn't it? The strange not-dreams, the ones she thought were just waking dreams, like the ones she used to have when Ramsay raped her, when her mind went away from her body and she'd imagine she was a bird flying above Winterfell, or a horse sleeping the stables. But Bran– or rather, the godling who used to be Bran– had spoken of the dreams he'd once had, of warging into ravens and wolves and people. It was a Stark magic, he'd told her, and perhaps the dreams had never been dreams, perhaps the magic had always been hers to wield, as a Stark, and–

Arya, Sansa thought, sudden and breathless, she'd seen Arya!

She closed her eyes, imagining that moment again. Arya had been in the godswood at Winterfell, clad in a tight-fitted black doublet over a yellow silk shirt with matching black breeches and black leather boots. Argella, the future Lady of Storm's End once she came of age, had been at her side, wearing a woollen yellow dress, yellow silk ribbons in her black braids, her stormy blue eyes bright with laughter.

They were both alive, and Sansa could allow herself the comfort of that fact. She wasn't sure how she had glimpsed into another world– Dream Walking, the talking wolf had called it– and she was glad she had, she was more glad then words could possibly describe, but if she was to survive this then she couldn't dwell on the past. It was a lesson she had learned decades ago when she was forced to stare at her father's rotting head by the boy she knew she must one day marry, must one day share a marriage bed with, and bear the children of. She couldn't dwell on the past because that way lay madness. She had to focus on the present, she had to focus on Naruto, on a way to use this Dream Walking, this warging, to help him.

He was all that mattered.

Now that Sansa knew what she was doing it was easy to close her eyes and let her mind let herself drift away. She had been practicing without realising for far longer than she had ever realised, and now that she knew what she was doing it came naturally to her. She reached for closer, simpler minds, and suddenly she was fluttering about on swift wings, ducking and weaving over a village the likes of which she'd never seen before.

This must be Konoha, she realised. This was the village the Fox-Beast had been trying to destroy– and he'd done a good job of it too, if the mass destruction was anything to go by. She fluttered down to get a closer at one of the ruined houses, the architecture entirely foreign to her, only to be struck by something from behind, the long, thin weapon skewering her small body and knocking her from the sky. Sansa didn't even have time to feel more pain before she was hurled out of the sparrow's mind as its life blinked out.

The moment she was back in her own body, Sansa opened her mouth and screamed. She didn't even care that she woke Naruto in that moment, not when she could still feel the phantom sensation of sharpened metal speared through hollow bones, piercing her fluttering heart; a senseless death. Naruto started screaming too, not understanding why she was so distraught, but still so distraught for her. Sansa clutched desperately at him with needy hands, sobbing wretchedly and filled with so much rage that it burned. She hated feeling helpless, she hated feeling weak, but that had terrified her.

I will be stronger, she promised herself, as she held her sobbing brother and they cried together. I will be smarter. I will be better then them all. I am a Stark... and I am an Uzumaki. I WILL be stronger.

~

It took longer than Sansa would like to admit for her to try warging again. But weeks of being trapped in the same room, staring at a ceiling, her only interactions being with her infant brother who mainly slept or cried and the woman who changed their soiled small-clothes, fed them and bathed them without ever once saying a word to them, was enough to make her desperate.

She didn't try warging in Konoha again. This time, she let herself just drift, let her mind wander where it wished. And somehow, she wasn't even surprised when she ended up in the wolf den again, where she was just one furry little wolf pup amongst the rest. Sansa snuggled in with her litter-mates, wriggling around them to pile up, only to yip in surprise when a large nose knocked her off the puppy pile, nudging her so she was forced to stumble on clumsy paws to the entrance of the den, then out into the forest, under a moon that hung full and heavy in the dark, velvet sky.

The Wolf settled down in front of Sansa, crouching on her haunches, and in the light Sansa was able to see her properly. She was enormous, far bigger than even a direwolf, closer in size to the elephants of the Golden Company. Her fur was pale as the full moon and her gleaming eyes were as golden as the sun. She was beautiful, and so very wild.

The Wolf spoke first.

"Hello again Dream Walker," she said, gracefully dipping her head.

Sansa tried to speak, to introduce herself and explain why she was there, and was very disgruntled when only a squeaky-sounding yip came out. The Wolf laughed, a rumbling sound. "I'm afraid my pup is too young to speak, Dream Walker. Give her a few months yet." The Wolf crouched down then, so they were eye-level with each other, and her large golden eyes looked deep into Sansa's own. "I see now," she said. "There is a great bond between you and my Kita."

And Sansa... Sansa went very still. It was probably a coincidence, she told herself. It was probably a coincidence that this wolf pup that she kept warging into had been named North, like she had been named Winter Child. But– what if? Did she dare hope? Tremulously, she tentatively asked;

Lady?

Moments later, she was almost knocked out of the pup's mind by–

giddy/love/welcome/missed you sansa/finally together!

If Sansa could cry, she'd be sobbing. As it was, she whimpered and frantically licked her own paws in an effort to try and show Lady– Kita?– how much she loved and had missed her too.

"You're going to take good care of my Kita," the Wolf said suddenly, reminding Sansa of her presence. Sansa looked up to see the Wolf gazing down at her, at them, with something very much like approval in her large, golden eyes. "My name is Tsukiko, Dream Walker. One day, I expect to hear yours."

Sansa nodded solemnly and Tsukiko gave a wolfy grin. "They will sing songs of you," she said, and for a moment her voice had a strange after-beat that sounded as if many other voices, ancient and wild and howling, were speaking alongside her, echoing her words.

They have already sung songs of me, Sansa thought to herself, shaken by the strange occurrence. It hadn't done her much good in her first life... or perhaps that was the bitterness of her death talking. She had accomplished more than most. After all, she was the one who had, dare she say it, won the Game of Thrones. Her death was inconsequential in the face of her greatest of victories.

Tsukiko, apparently unconcerned by what had just taken place, leaned forwards and licked her. Sansa yipped in surprise before stumbling forwards when Tsukiko nudged her back in the direction of the den. "Sleep now, little one," she said, her voice a low rumble, and Sansa knew better then to argue with a wolf with teeth the size of a broadsword. Bounding clumsily back into the den, she happily burrowed into the puppy pile of Lady's litter-mates, who all nuzzled up against her as Tsukiko curled up around them.

Sansa could even feel Lady's presence curled around her.

safe/happy/my sansa/mama/pack/

I love you too Lady, Sansa cooed adoringly, unable to believe this wonderful second chance.

Now she had two precious pack-mates to protect in this new world, Naruto and Lady, and she would do everything in her power to keep them safe and happy, she swore to herself.

~

Over the next few moons, when Naruto sleeping, Sansa found herself returning to Lady. She was quick to learn the names of Lady's litter-mates– Gin, Haya, Katsu and Suki– and it didn't take long for her to become coordinated enough in Lady's body to play with the other pups, Tsukiko always lounging nearby, watching over them with an indulgent eye.

The exuberance of the pups amused Sansa and she couldn't stop herself from doting on them the best she could, always nuzzling them, grooming their ears, nudging them along when they dawdled after spotting something interesting.

"You were a mother, once, weren't you?" Tsukiko asked her one day, after Sansa had fussed over Gin for sneaking off; the silver-furred pup was sly as a fox and clearly unrepentant about giving Sansa the fright of her life when she realised she'd lost him. Tsukiko had managed to turn the entire frightful ordeal into a lesson for Sansa on tracking by scent and they'd found Gin eventually, but Sansa had been half out of her mind with worry by then, only keeping herself together in order to function enough so that she could find the pup.

Sansa flinched at Tsukiko's question, her hackles raising as she looked away from those knowing golden eyes.

hurts/poor sansa/misses her pups?

Tsukiko didn't ask again, and Sansa was relieved.

I do, Lady. I miss my pups.

Sansa wished she could bring Naruto with her to Tsukiko's den. If she could, then she'd never have to leave. He'd be so much happier with a pack and an entire forest to explore, not just one small room. They were hardly ever even moved out of their shared cradle and while Sansa was able to escape the discomfort by leaving her body behind, Naruto didn't have that option and as the moons continued to pass with no change to their routine, Sansa grew more and more concerned. There was only so much she could do to help Naruto and keep him entertained and happy.

She did her very best, of course. Her tiny, feeble body had finally grown and matured enough that she could form clumsy sentences to babble at him– well, she was sure it sounded like babbling; in truth, she was speaking to her brother in the Old Tongue. She had no intention of letting any watchers become aware that she was capable of true speech, so only spoke to him in what would appear to be a 'nonsense' language just in case she ever missed their presence. She didn't think she would, she could usually feel them, but she was still careful.

Admittedly, nobody in Konoha would know Common Tongue either, and it was a simpler dialect then the Old Tongue, but she hadn't wanted all those countless hours of hard work learning the Old Tongue gone to waste, not after having to ask Tormund and the Free Folk to help her learn it, interested in knowing more of her Northern heritage after accepting her crown. She also knew Valyrian, as considering just who had ruled the neighbouring Six Kingdoms it would have been foolish not to, but she'd rather swallow glass then willingly speak that language.

As well as "babbling" to her brother (in truth; sing to him, recite stories to him, tell him of her life before this one), she also played basic games that she thought she could get away with. These were basically just letting him grab her hand or arm and wave it around– they didn't have any toys or pillows, nothing that she could even try to make a plaything out of, so she let herself be his doll.

Their entire situation was unforgivable, in Sansa's opinion, but she didn't start to think it a danger to their lives until Naruto figured out how to stand up in their cradle by holding the edges of the bars. She didn't even dare go visit Lady and Tsukiko after the first time she saw him do it because she was so terrified he'd climb out and fall to the ground while she was gone.

Sansa found herself a sickening combination of terrified and furious. Being furious wasn't unusual for her. She was often furious about their situation. She and Naruto had been left in this room, in this single shared cradle, with only a silent caretaker who never spoke to them and did the very bare minimum in caring for them. They didn't even wear proper clothing, just their frequently soiled small-clothes, and the only other people they saw were the occasional masked watchers, who were completely silent and mostly lingered out of sight– she only ever knew they were there because she could feel their presence.

This fury, however, was different. It was an icy fury, so cold that it burned. It was this fury that had led to a massacre during her reign that the bards of Westeros had memorialised with the ballad "The Ice Queen of the North", which had become just as infamous as "The Rains of Castemere". Sansa hated Konoha and everyone in it. All of them. It burned through her like ice and as she clenched her sharp, pointed teeth so hard they cut into her own gums, filling her mouth with the hot, iron tang of blood, she could swear she heard an eerie, distant sound; dark, hateful, pained (lonely).

It almost sounded like a voice.

When Sansa pushed herself up to a sitting position, though, something that had gotten easier in the last turn of the moon, and looked around the small room, she could see no evidence of any life other than her or Naruto. The small space was as bland, boring, and lifeless as usual, and with a sigh Sansa flopped back down next to Naruto.

Her brother whimpered and turned pleading blue eyes to her, his lower lip trembling. Sansa, unable to resist such a look, immediately broke and started singing to him, an old Northern lullaby that Old Nan had sung to her and her brothers and sister, many decades ago. She'd always thought it was creepy. In hindsight, she wished she'd paid better attention to it.

"Hair like snow, eyes that gleam, things aren't always what they seem. Teeth too long, hands too thin– always look beneath the skin!"*

Lullabies wouldn't work forever to keep Naruto distracted though, Sansa knew, her heart sinking. And she was right. Four days after Naruto learned how to pull himself up to standing, during which Sansa had slept maybe three hours total in her fear, the inevitable happened; Sansa dozed off, exhausted, and Naruto climbed over the edge of the cradle and fell, head first, to the ground.

His scream woke her, and her scream was quick to join his. He'd clearly landed head first and while Sansa might not be a maester, she knew enough to know that wasn't a good thing, especially not for such a young child. Heart pounding in her chest, Sansa shrieked at the top of her lungs, despite knowing it was useless. There were no watchers nearby that she could feel and the lady that looked after them never paid attention to their screams. She wouldn't know that something out of the ordinary had happened. She wouldn't come to see what was wrong.

To Sansa's horror, Naruto had stopped screaming, instead he just looked up at her, dazed, eyes half-lidded. Considering the steadily seeping blood she could see, Sansa knew that her brother going quiet was not a good sign. Her panic soared as she seized the sides of the cradle, yanking herself upright to a standing position, desperately wracking her brain. What could she do? How could she help her brother?

The answer came to her in a flash. That horrible night when she'd almost lost Naruto, almost twelve turns of the moon ago now, that masked woman, Tori, had said the reason she'd known something was wrong was because she'd felt the Fox-Beast's– the Kyuubi's– chakra.

Sansa tried not to think about the Fox-Beast– it made her feel ill and horribly violated to think of the Beast trapped beneath her and her brother's skin, like she wanted to scrub and scrub her body until her flesh was red and raw and hers, but she couldn't think about that now– Naruto was what was important. She wasn't sure what chakra was, but she remembered the night she'd almost died a second time only too well. She had felt such rage, such hatred and fury towards Adachi for– she had assumed at the time, considering he had slit her brother's throat– killing Naruto that she had wished to deliver such torture unto him that he would have begged for Ramsay's fate and called it a kindness once she was done with him.

Was that what she needed to feel, then, to create the 'flare' that Tori had described? She was certainly feeling the same fear she had felt that night; the stink of her and her brother's fear had filled the room. And her rage– her rage was a vicious, frozen thing, so cold that it burned inside her veins. Hatred, though… that night, all her hatred had been focused on one man. But not tonight. Tonight was different. Baring her small fangs, Sansa gripped the edge of the cradle and hated Konoha with every raging-fearful-burning-loving part of herself.

Sansa saw red, and when she blinked, she wasn't in the small room any longer. She wasn't Dream Walking either, she knew, because this was different. This was different, because she was standing in the godswood of Winterfell; or at least, somewhere similar to the godswood of Winterfell, except this heart-tree towered over her, taller even then Winterfell's highest tower, and the weirwood trees surrounding the heart-tree were arranged in a perfect circle, their branches stretching across, intertwined with each other, making an impenetrable cage.

And within that cage, standing under the canopy of the arching branches of the heart-tree, nine blood-red, fiery tails swishing lazily, tongue lolling from fanged jaws in a gaping grin, red slit eyes gleaming, was the Kyuubi.

Notes:

*"Snow Beast," by Mercedes Lackey, performed by Cecilia Eng, Sarah Hayes, and Meg Heydt

A/N: This chapter shows a lot of narrator bias. It seems cruel to keep Naruto and Sansa hidden away in the room, and it definitely is, but the Hokage doesn't actually realise Sansa is an adult and bored to pieces. Their lives are in danger from the Konoha populace and as baby Jinchuriki they're in danger because every spy in the Konoha would have let their village know that Konoha has two baby Jinchuriki. He has to keep them hidden away, out of sight, while doing damage control. The caretaker could definitely be nicer, but as a retired ANBU (that's my head-canon for this fic, anyway) she's mostly just apathetic and doesn't know or care about children. Again, it doesn't excuse her behaviour at all, it just is.