This is inspired of an old prompt by kimberlite8. I wrote the draft almost two years ago, reread it last weekend and decided to resume writing it. I hope you enjoy.

The weather was changing, getting unexpectedly clement. About a moon before, the thick clouds which had hung above the forest for so long had dissipated and given place to the bluest of skies. Shortly after, the ice on the nearby lake had thinned so much that it was no longer safe to cross it neither by dogsled or foot and one had to walk many extra miles to get to the other side and hunt the deer which thrived in the forest there. Winter was coming to its end, had decreed the clan's Elders before reuniting in the council's longhouse earlier this morning.

Winter had been long and harsh , yet as Sansa had never known anything other - the season having lasted almost a decade and a half and she having only recently turned four and ten - it had never seemed so bad to her. Her people lived in lands where snow never melted completely and some ice always remained in the sea even at the high of summer. Amongst the Free Folk, they were of those who lived the furthest from the Kneelers. Their village was so far from that colossal wall which was said to divide the south from the north that only a handful of those of her clan had ever seen it of their own two eyes. As many, Sansa often wondered if its existence had not simply been made up by those who came back in a will to impress. Even those Kneelers that were said to live south of it seemed the stuff of legend. It was hard to believe people could live in houses built from stones and wear clothes of metal to battlefield. And the point of having but one ruler for thousands and thousands of people was impossible to grasp when it was common knowledge wise decisions could only be taken by the deliberation of a community's oldest members.

With the arrival of this new, beautiful weather, Sansa could hardly stay inside. She was sitting by her family's longhouse, enjoying the sun. Never had she known such strong sunbeams. Installed over a high pile of snow, she was mending some of her brothers' tunics, as her mother had asked of her earlier this morning. She was so warm in her fur and hide garbs that she had had no choice but to lower her cowl, loosen her scarf and remove her mittens in order to stop sweating. Yet even with all of that, she was still very comfortable. How hot will summer be if this is just a glimpse of it, as Father and Mother have told us? she wondered, bewildered at the thought that this might indeed be just the beginning of it. It was hard for her to imagine the air could get even warmer, it seemed impossible! What would she be wearing then? None of her dresses would be appropriate anymore very soon and she'd have no choice but to sew herself a whole set of new clothes. Oh! That was an exciting prospect!

"Hello to you, Sansa. Are your parents home?" a voice took Sansa out of her reverie. She jerked her head sideway to see it was that of an old woman from the Elder Council. Her name was Argath and she was walking toward the longhouse with another council member, this one a man called Orog. Both were very old, with white hair and wrinkled faces.

Sansa made to stand - the Elders deserved everyone's respect after all – yet it was hard with the pile of tunic she had over her lap, and Argath gestured for her to remain seated.

"Good afternoon to you both," Sansa said, bowing her head deferentially. "Yes, they are home. Would you like me to tell them you wish to speak to them?"

"No, it's all right, my child. Stay where you are," Orog answered, smiling kindly at her.

Sansa smiled back at them nervously and followed with her gaze as they entered her family's longhouse.

The Elder Council meeting had ended, apparently. And now, two of them wanted to speak to her parents. That made Sansa anxious, quite a lot to be honest, yet she tried not to think about what that might imply and to continue with her needlework. Her attempt was not very successful: she was too distracted and kept making mistakes. At one point, she even sewed two tunics together, something Arya often did, but that she had not in years! How very shameful! Thankfully, there was no witness to her clumsiness.

The two Elders spent a long time in her family's longhouse - it seemed like hours to Sansa before she saw them again. Despite pricking up her ears as much as she could for the first few minutes of their visit, she barely managed to make out more than a few word of their conversation. It was highly frustrating, but also, very nerve-racking, thereby at one point, she stopped trying to understand altogether and resigned herself to stay in the dark for now.

When the two Elders finally exited her family's longhouse, they smiled at Sansa and the look of respect they had in their eyes as they gazed down at her froze her to the bone. Oh gods, have they… no, it's not possible, she mused. Her whole body shivering despite the warmth, she watched them as they headed back to the Elder Council's longhouse. She was imagining things. This all couldn't be because…

"Sansa!" Mother called, her voice somewhat strained. "Come in, please. Your father and I need to speak to you."

Mother was standing in the entranceway, gazing at her, and when Sansa turned to meet her stare, she saw her eyes were teary, though her bearing was even prouder than usual. Calm down, Sansa, you're probably just imagining things, she tried to reassure herself. Taking a deep breath, she gathered the tunics she had in her lap in her arms and stood up.

She entered the longhouse, her knees weak under her and heart racing like a wild horse. The place seemed very dark after the brightness of the sunny day, and it took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust. Soon though, Sansa could discern the wood posts and bark walls adorned with pelts and colourful woven wall hangings. As always, the room's air was thick with smoke and smelled of beasts and food. By the table, her father was sitting, looking very grave and somewhat… moved?

Oh, no, please no…

"Sansa sit down," he told her gently, gesturing for her to take place before him.

Sansa did as he asked even as Mother pulled herself a chair by Father's side. They both wordlessly gazed at her for what appeared like an eternity, clearly uncomfortable. Yet eventually, Father sighed and broke the silence.

"Sansa. You've been chosen," he announced quietly. He winced, as if saying so had cost him.

At hearing the dreaded words, Sansa gasped, the colour draining from her face. She laid a hand on the table to clutch at it, feeling the room spin around her.

"Chosen?" she asked in a weak murmur, though the truth was, she knew very well what he'd meant by that. It had been the talk of the village for the last week. Everyone had guessed that was the reason why the Elders had gathered this morning. They needed to designate the virgin flowered girl who'd become the Summer Maid. And she was the one. Oh by the sacred Children…

"You've been chosen for the ceremonial sacrifice," Father told her, each of his word slow, as if they were painful to utter. "It's a great honour to be bestowed on our family, one many dream of for their daughter. Yet I won't lie: it's a bit of shock to your mother and me and we'd have rather it not be you. You're still so very young..."

Shaking his head, he exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumped in something like defeat. "But our reticence doesn't matter," he continued with the same heaviness in his speech. "This is not something one can refuse. The Elder's decision cannot be denied, they know best out of all of us in this clan how to appease the gods and ensure we get the long and fruitful summer we've been praying for for the last few years. This ceremony is most important. If the Elder Council elected you, then we must trust in them, bow to their demand and be grateful." While there was a deep sadness to Father's voice, Sansa could also glimpse a spark of pride shining in his eyes. Very few families could boast to have had one of its members having served for the spring ritual sacrifice. It was a great honour indeed.

For many long minutes, Sansa was too overwhelmed to speak. Silence stretched, disturbed only by the cackle of hens just outside the longhouse and the laughter of children playing further away.

Both of Sansa's parents had tears in their eyes. Mother was smiling at her in spite of this, but Father, he was staring out the small window, blinking, his face twitching as if he were in pain. The sight was too much for her. Sansa had very rarely seen her mother weep and never even imagined her father could do as much, and thus she averted her eyes to stare down at her lap. Her own vision was blurry with tears and a heavy drop fell down on the embroidered hide of her skirt.

"I am happy and honoured," Sansa whispered, distractedly watching the water stain her tear had left on her skirt slowly fade away. It was hard for her to speak, her throat was closed with repressed sobs, however, she wouldn't allow herself to cry just now. Her words had been genuine. The notion that she would serve as the Summer Maid may be exceedingly daunting, she was still very honoured to have been chosen. As a child, it had been a dream of hers to be named for the spring ritual sacrifice, though she had not understood the implications back then. So very few women ever got the chance to become the Summer Maid - one every spring – and in her youth, Sansa had prayed the gods, the heart trees and all the Children of the forest that one day, she'd be chosen. Yet now that it had happened in truth, she was scared to death.

"Another moon will pass before the ritual sacrifice. You'll have time to prepare for it," Sansa's mother assured her, laying a hand on hers. "We'll need to talk, Sansa... about what will occur. I'd have rather wait until the day you'll find a good man and leave our longhouse to explain all these things to you, but now..."

"I know more that you believe mother. I'm less innocent than you may fear," Sansa hurried to answer, blushing deeply. "And I won't give any reason to you or to the Elder Council to regret that I've been chosen."

"We know it, Sansa. You've never been anything but a dutiful and obedient daughter," Father said softly, glancing at her with a tight smile on his face.

And dutiful she would be once again. To be the maiden whose purity would be sacrificed for the sake of a long summer was a very frightening prospect indeed. And yet, Sansa couldn't deny how special it made her feel to have been picked among all the hundreds of young girls of her village. Only the most pious, pure and deserving maiden of a clan could be selected to play this most important role, a young girl who would be regarded highly by the old gods of the forest. The ritual sacrifice of her maidenhead would appease their anger and convince them to grant the forest, land and sea, as well as all the beasts, men and women which inhabited them, the plentiful summer they had long yearned for. If the Elders had seen Sansa fit, who was she to doubt them? They knew best than anyone after all, Father had said as much.

And now in the weeks that would follow, the gods themselves would choose the man most apt to serve as their tool in the sacrifice of her purity. They would elect him the only way gods knew, through the shedding of men blood. A long series of combats would thus be organised and the last man standing would be their tool.