18

Chapter 18: EighteenChapter Text

EIGHTEEN:

On the eve of Sansa and Naruto's fourth nameday, she, Kanna and Naruto were once again collected by the ANBU and taken to the Hokage Tower, though at least this time they were prepared– Sansa had even taken the time to pack the nameday presents she'd prepared for Naruto and Kanna.

At the start of the previous month she'd requested of the orphanage matron Kazumi that, in place of her usual allowance, she be given thread, ribbons and beads. She had then spent what little spare time she had sewing her gifts for Naruto and Kanna– it may not have been Kanna's nameday but Sansa couldn't help but be acutely aware that it was the anniversary of the death of Kanna's mother. While Kanna had never let that stop her celebrating the twins' birthday, Sansa wanted to make some sort of gesture to show Kanna that her efforts were acknowledged, that they were appreciated. She wanted to show Kanna that she was loved.

For Naruto, Sansa had selected a much larger grey t-shirt she'd found amongst the clothes donated to the orphanage which were sent to be mended before being redistributed amongst the orphans. She bleached the shirt white, washed it in sweet-smelling herbs then neatly cut the fabric and stitched it into a child-sized tunic. On the front of the tunic she stitched a howling grey direwolf poised in mid-leap, using gleaming pale-blue beads as eyes. The direwolf's back paws and tail were halfway-merged into a finely stitched Uzushio swirl, making it appear both as if the wolf and swirl were one and that the wolf was leaping from the swirl.

For Kanna, Sansa had found a knee-length white dress and deep red skirt made of a velvety material amongst the donated clothes. She took the white dress in at the waist, trimming the neckline to a more flattering cut and tightening the bodice, before cutting the skirt up and using the fabric to sew red velvet roses which she attached along the neckline of the white dress. With a green thread, she then embroidered curling vines across the bodice and hems of the dress. And if some of those vines discretely curled in a way that resembled an Uzushio swirl, well, Sansa never claimed she wasn't possessive of those she loved.

Kazumi, the only one to see the finished projects before Sansa had carefully wrapped them in brown paper that the matron generously provided, had been very impressed by Sansa's handiwork. She'd asked if she could borrow them for a day, to show a friend, and Sansa had hesitantly agreed, nervous but trusting that Kazumi would do no harm to the tunic and dress– and she hadn't, though she had returned with a very thoughtful look upon her face.

The looks of delight on Kanna and Naruto's faces when they opened their presents was well worth the effort she had placed into the projects. "Oh, Ko-chan!" Kanna gasped, holding up the rose dress against her body and looking down at herself in delight. "Didja make this?"

Meanwhile, Naruto pointed excitedly at the wolf on his tunic and exclaimed, "Lady!"

"Try them on," Sansa urged, and Kanna, with an ease that came from sharing a small room for three years, shed her t-shirt and skirt, standing in just her smallclothes before carefully slipping into the dress as Sansa helped Naruto into his tunic.

Naruto looked adorable, much to Sansa's delight. His faded green shorts didn't really match and she made note to sew him a pair of plain brown or black breeches, but the tunic fit well and she was pleased that she hadn't lost her touch with taking measurements by sight alone. Naruto kept touching the leaping wolf on his belly with a soft, amazed look on his face, and Sansa felt a warm, glowing feeling in her stomach at seeing how well her gift had been received.

Likewise, Kanna was almost in tears. The rose dress clung delicately to her, revealing the slim curves of her blossoming figure. Kanna was six and ten now, a young woman of marriageable age by Westerosi standards, and the dress made that clearer than the old, loose t-shirts and skirts Kanna usually wore ever did. She didn't look like a child, she looked like a young woman of good standing.

"Let me do your hair," Sansa coaxed, forcing Kanna to sit down and fetching her comb from the bag she had brought. Naruto sat and watched as she brushed through Kanna's long, green hair before expertly twisting the strands into a coronet braid, crowning her even as soft waves flowed loose around her neck and shoulders, framing her face.

"There," Sansa said, satisfied. "You look beautiful. You always do, of course, your heart is too beautiful for you to not shine, but a little bit of polish does not go amiss."

"Yer amazin'," Kanna said with a wet laugh, "I don' think I ever wore somethin' this nice ever."

"A dress may be a creation of cloths and textiles and all manner of frills and frippery," Sansa told her primly, "but a dress is also a Lady's armour."

Kanna looked at her with thoughtful eyes and Sansa couldn't help but wonder what she saw when the older in body-but not in mind girl looked down at her. She wondered if Kanna saw the age in Sansa's eyes, the decades she'd lived and the horrors she'd survived, and what she made of it. Kanna and Naruto were the only two she didn't hide from; the ANBU watchers must have some idea, by now, that her speech was far more advanced than a regular child of four namedays, Kazumi too, but it was only Kanna who was aware of just how intelligent Sansa truly was.

But she had never said anything. She had never even hinted it, not to anyone. Sansa loved Naruto and Lady more than any other in this new world, but if there was another who came close, it was Kanna. Kanna, their sister in all but blood. Kanna, their pack.

"Ko-ane, do my hair too?" Naruto piped up suddenly, breaking the steady, contemplative gaze between the girl and the woman in a child's body. Sansa couldn't help her fond smile as she turned to Naruto

"Of course, my little storm," she said, always willing to oblige her brother. Naruto's hair brushed against his shoulders as he hated getting it cut and kicked up enough of a fuss that Kazumi rarely bothered to go through the ordeal of forcing him, so there was more enough hair for Sansa to weave a few tiny braids into his golden locks to make him happy.

"Now tha' we're all pretty," Kanna announced once she'd finished, with a big grin on her face, "I reckon it's time fer th' party!"

"Party!" Naruto cheered, bouncing up and down and clapping and Sansa let herself be swept up in their excitement.

They'd been left out food again; there was inari which they made sure to set some aside, bowls of broth and noodles called 'ramen' that Naruto couldn't get enough of, skewers with colourful balls called 'dango' that Kanna apparently adored, and these delightful rose-shaped confections called 'nerikiri' that melted in Sansa's mouth.

"Ya both gettin' so big," Kanna said nostalgically as Naruto licked salty broth off his fingers. "Three years now I've 'ad ya now! Can hardly believe it, yeah?"

"Believe it!" Naruto crowed and Kanna laughed, swooping forwards to scoop him into her arms. Naruto shrieked in delight as she stood and spun him around, and Sansa giggled at the sight they made together.

Eventually, they ended up in their usual curled up position on the sleeping mats, changed into their sleep-clothes. They were getting too big to both fit comfortably in Kanna's arms, so Kanna would curl around Naruto, who would curl around Sansa, ensuring Naruto was in the most protected position.

"Dunno wot I'd do without ya both," Kanna murmured.

"You're not planning on going anywhere, are you?" Sansa asked, unable to help the sudden jolt of concern she felt.

"Nah," Kanna said. "Jus'… I only got two years left, yeah? Then I age out."

Sansa swallowed. That was right. Kanna was turning eighteen in two years, which meant she would no longer be eligible to stay at the orphanage.

"I'm seein' some'un," Kanna said suddenly, "'E's th' son of a baker. 'E can get me a job, a proper, 'onest, good payin' one in Konoha…" she trailed off. "It was never my plan, ya know. Stayin'. When I aged out, I was always gonna leave. Git outta this shitty village. But then I got the pair of ya, an' now… now I wanna leave, but I ain't about to leave yeh both. So I'mma git this job, an' in two years, I'll have saved enough tha' I can adopt ya. We'll rent some place, it'll be a shit heap, but we'll be together, yeah?"

"You wanna adopt us?" Naruto asked, and Sansa could hear the tender hope in his voice. She didn't even correct his diction, because her own heart was so full of love.

"I love my li'l pups," Kanna said fiercely, hugging them both, and Sansa couldn't help her tears, turning around so she could cling to Naruto and reach for Kanna and cling to her too.

"Yes," she said, "yes. Please."

Kanna smiled, wet-eyed and tremulous and so, so warm.

"Sing, Ko-ane?" Naruto asked with big, pleading blue eyes and a wobbly lip. Sansa smiled, leaning to kiss his forehead.

"Of course, little prince," she murmured, before leaning back in Kanna's warm arms and singing in her high, piping voice;

"This is the price of commanding–

You always stand alone,

Let no one near

To see the fear

Behind the mask, you've grown

This is the price of commanding–

That you watch your dearest die,

Sending women and men

To fight again,

And never tell them why

This is the price of commanding–

That mistakes are signed in red–

And you won't pay

But others may,

And your best may wind up dead

This is the price of commanding–

All the dead that haunt your sleep

You hope they forgive

And so you live

With their memories buried deep.

This is the price of commanding–

That if you won't, others will.

So take your post,

Salute each ghost–

You've a debt to them to fill

This is the price of commanding."*

"Tha's... tha's deep, imouto," Kanna said quietly.

"Heavy lies the head that wears the crown," Sansa said quietly. "Great power requires great sacrifice."

Naruto was a Prince of the Whirlpools; it was her duty to teach him, to train him as to what being a Prince meant. What being a leader meant. She'd been taught since she was a young child what it meant to be a noble lady, what her future duties would be– and yet, those who taught her had failed to teach her the most important lesson of all; there was a price of commanding. A cost to power. Sansa had paid dearly; she'd sent men to their deaths in battle, she'd ordered executions, and she'd used her body, her womb, as a way to gain blackmail and alliances. None of that had come freely; it had scarred her conscience, stained her soul, and all the suffering, all the deaths, that occurred due to her decisions, her own included, haunted her sleep still.

Yet, she did not regret them.

She made her choices and the consequences were hers to accept. She did not regret what she had done, despite how she knew some must view her actions. How traitorous, how power-hungry, they must have seen them.

One by one, Sansa had stolen the loyalty of the Kingdoms from Daenerys. The North, through her own rule. The Crownlands, through Torrhen. The Riverlands, through Uncle Edmure. The Vale, through her cousin Robin Arryn, who quite adored her. Dorne, through her marriage to Olyvar and birth to Raya. The Stormlands, through Arya and Gendry. The Westerlands, through Galladon, Brienne and Jaime's son who had been raised in her court and was loyal to her. The Free Folk, through Tormund and her son, Robb.

Oh, and dear Yara, she could not forget dear Yara and her Iron Islands. It had taken a far more delicate touch to win her over then any of the men, but win her over Sansa had. Daenerys was raised to conquer, but Sansa? She had been raised to rule. She knew the Iron Islands, she had grown alongside its heir. The key to gaining Yara's loyalty did not lie in men, or in armies, for what use were armies when bellies were empty and aching? When the islands yielded such scarce offerings to their people, with their barren soil and harsh lands?

Sansa had opened trade between the North and the Iron Islands and gently coaxed the Riverlands into doing the same, fostering an amicable relationship between them that Daenerys couldn't hope to match, not when the Crownlands had no such goods they could offer the Iron Islands of such worth. Sending her Robb to spend a handful of wild, merry years on its sea-and-salt soaked stony shores in the name of the friendship Sansa's brother had once shared with Theon only served to cement the prospering friendship between her and Yara's people.

She hadn't sent him there with the intention of his seducing Alannys Greyjoy, Yara's fatherless daughter, but Robb was Sansa's son to his bones, he knew how to play the game of thrones, had learned it as he'd learned to walk.

Lanny was as wild and fiercely independent as her mother, as any Iron Islander. Robb, the son of the Free Folk as much as he was a Prince of the North, never denied her strength or her right to inherit her mother's position as Lady Reaper. Their marriage wasn't unlike Sansa's to Olyvar, in a way, except with a depth of friendship involved that came with spending years of their lives together before Lanny had stolen Robb away to be her 'wife', in Iron Island and Free Folk tradition both, their little Asha born less then five moons later. Sansa's first grandchild.

Robb hadn't remained on the Iron Islands; he didn't demand to bring Asha back to the mainland with him, or that Lanny accompany him as his wife. Rather, he occasionally 'stole' Lanny, taking her and Asha to visit the North and the True North both, coaxing her to share her expertise in seafaring with the newly-created Northern Navy, before letting her 'steal' him back to the Islands.

Sansa had been delighted by their match, both for the affection they shared and for the ties to the Iron Islands it gave. Yara had toasted her, one visit, an amused if accepting look on her face. "Well played, my Queen." She'd said. And Sansa could only smile.

Sansa had even had the potential support of the Reach; Daenerys, upon Tyrion's advice, had gifted Ser Bronn of the Blackwater with Highgarden in return for his services to Tyrion. Ser Bronn was despised by the good people of the Reach and Sansa was well aware how their eyes strayed to other eligible Lords– Lords such as the line of Samwell Tarly who had an unfortunate fondness for Jon, but who had loved his brother and despised Daenerys, Jon's queenly wife, for what she had done which strained that fondness over the decades.

Not to mention, Sansa had been careful to cultivate a gentle friendship with Gilly over the years the couple had spent living at Winterfell, with not-so-little Sam offered a fair position in her household, and the son Gilly later bore Sam, Lord Herndon Tarly, squiring under Ser Brienne, Commander of Sansa's Queensguard, at Sansa's behest– a fact all involved were well-aware of.

And if, perhaps, Herndon joined Torrhen, Robb, Raya, Galladon and Jainne in their lessons, where the next generation learned how to rule keeps and kingdoms alike, well, Herndon had been born and raised in her court; he was no fool. He knew her aspirations for him and he rose to meet them gladly. Herndon may have been a Tarly in name, but he had Gilly's blood, Northern blood, in his veins; he was loyal to her children, to the North, to her.

Sansa wondered if Daenerys had even noticed the net Sansa had cast, like the Ironborn legend of Sanna** that Theon had once told her; a rebellious young girl thrown into the sea to drown by her father, sinking below the waves only to be born again in a fury of violent storms and seas, snaring the oceans with a net of her hair to trap the catch so her father's people starved for his sins. Men and women had starved for Daenerys' sins. They had starved for Sansa's sins too.

She wished she could protect Naruto from such horrors that a leader, a commander, a prince, must face. She would protect Naruto's childhood innocence, she had long since made herself that vow, but she would not allow him to grow up naïve either. She could not. It would be an injustice to her brother. This world, all worlds, were cruel; better to understand and strive to make it a better place than to see it through the eyes of a summer child, blind to the harsh reality of winter.

This was her vow to her brother, before the old gods and the new.

*"The Price of Command" – Mercedes Lackey

**Based of the mythology of Sanna, also known as Sedna, the Inuit goddess of the sea and marine animals. Sanna/Sedna rules over the underworld that is located beneath the land and the sea. There are a number of versions of her myth, but in each her father takes her to sea in his kayak and cuts off her fingers when she tries clinging to side, so she sinks to the bottom of the sea. She is generally considered a vengeful goddess.