
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8701267.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Game_of_Thrones_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Jon_Snow/Sansa_Stark
  Character:
      Jon_Snow, Sansa_Stark, Robb_Stark, Arya_Stark, Bran_Stark, Rickon_Stark,
      Ned_Stark, Catelyn_Tully_Stark, Benjen_Stark, Theon_Greyjoy, Jory_Cassel,
      Maester_Luwin, Rodrik_Cassel, Jeyne_Poole, Vayon_Poole, Wyman_Manderly,
      Rickard_Karstark, Maege_Mormont, Septa_Mordane, Yoren_(ASoIaF), Jeor
      Mormont, Alliser_Thorne, Maester_Aemon, Samwell_Tarly, Grenn_(ASoIaF),
      Pypar_(ASoIaF)
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon, Angst_with_a_Happy_Ending, Incest, Half-
      Sibling_Incest, Cousin_Incest, Arranged_Marriage, Dubious_Morality,
      Mildly_Dubious_Consent
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-30 Updated: 2017-08-27 Chapters: 15/? Words: 60043
****** It's Not a Fairytale ******
by purple_angel
Summary
     Jon Snow's true parentage is revealed during a time of chaos and
     while Robert Baratheon is still alive, forcing Ned Stark to come up
     with a plan in order to keep Jon and the rest of his family safe from
     the King's wrath.
***** The Agreement *****
                                     Sansa
Sansa was staring uncertainly at Jon as he kept pacing the room like a
possessed man. She knew this wasn’t ideal. In fact it was far from ideal and if
she was honest with herself, it was something that under any different
circumstances, she never would have agreed to. The very idea of her and Jon
made her skin crawl. Or at least it used to a lot more before she actually knew
about who he really was. She had spent years thinking of Jon as her half-
brother and keeping him at a distance and one would think that she’d still feel
the same way. Jon Snow for his part certainly thought so. However, putting
feelings aside, Sansa was willing to do what had been asked of her because she
knew her father was right and this was the best way to keep her family safe.
And yes, perhaps this concerned more Jon than it did the rest of them, but she
was not that naive to believe they would be spared. Besides, she would never
forgive herself, if she knew she could have done something to help him and just
stood by and watched.
Even though she didn’t share the bond her other siblings shared with Jon, she
still cared for him. Maybe not as deeply as she cared for Robb, Bran, Rickon or
even Arya, but still; she had always wanted what was best for him. Before she
learned the truth about his parentage, of course, that had meant something
entirely different for her. Jon had never had a place in her future and they
had been both aware of the fact and somehow that had made her feel a little
less guilty about not trying to form a real connection with him. She had always
known that their paths would eventually be completely different and that once
she got betrothed, she would never see him again.
All she had ever dreamed of in the past had been to marry a noble lord in the
South and become a lady in her own castle and for a while, after King Robert
had sent ravens to all the important houses, informing them that he was looking
for a bride for Prince Joffrey to be betrothed to, she had even dreamed of
being Queen one day, standing by her handsome King’s side. Her dreams, however,
had soon been replaced with disappointment when the King had chosen a Tyrell
for his son to marry and then, as fate would have it, with utter relief when
Jon Arryn, who was the Hand of the King, had revealed that both Princes, along
with Princess Myrcella, were nothing but the product of the incestuous
relationship between Cersei Lannister and her twin brother, Jaimie.
It was really funny how fate worked and Sansa did not fail to see the irony in
the fact that the prince she had once been dreaming of marrying was a bastard
and Jon Snow, whom she had always associated the word bastard with, was the
real prince she would marry. Because not only was Jon not a bastard, but if the
Targaryens hadn’t fallen, he would have grown up as a potential heir to the
Iron Throne and a prince, with him being the trueborn son of Prince Rhaegar and
Lyanna Stark, her lord father’s sister and her aunt.
The truth about Jon had been revealed soon after the scandal about the
Lannisters had seen the light and after both Stags and Lions had raised their
banners for war. Besides her father’s best efforts to keep Jon’s parentage a
secret all these years, someone had somehow figured out the truth and had
decided to immerse the Kingdoms into more chaos by revealing it, forcing her
father to finally admit it to the family and confess of the promise he had made
to his sister to protect her son and of his decision to pass him as his own.
Which had proven to be a wise one, if Robert Baratheon’s fury was anything to
go by. Now, all of Westeros seemed to be at war and everyone had turned against
one another with no exceptions. Not even that of the North.
The Northerners had hated the Targaryens for a long time to take the truth
about Jon well. In their minds Prince Rhaegar had been a monster just like his
father the Mad King, who had killed both her uncle and grandfather in the most
gruesome way. They had always shared the belief with the rest of Westeros that
Lyanna had been taken against her will and had been raped and now they were
seeing Jon to be worse than just a bastard and considered her father a traitor
to his family and the North and a Targaryen sympathizer. As a result, they
weren’t willing to risk their lives and join the Starks in the fight against
Robert Baratheon’s army. They were claiming that King Robert had every right to
demand Jon’s head and that if her father wanted to truly prove himself loyal to
the North, he would have to hand over the Targaryen bastard. The North had no
need of another war because of a Targaryen.
So, their stance had left her father with no choice. He would never break his
promise and let Jon die, but he understood that they also needed the other
northern houses’ army, if they were to survive an attack. And the only way he
could think of how to do that was to explain the whole truth about Jon and his
parentage and to prove his nephew’s loyalty to the North. Consequently, he had
taken it upon himself to send ravens, informing the other Northern lords about
the true events concerning Jon. In his letters he was writing about the love
between Rhaegar and Lyanna and their secret wedding, which made Jon a trueborn
instead of a bastard and a product of true love instead of rape. He was
reminding them of how highly everyone thought of Lyanna and he was telling them
of how Jon was just like her and a true son of the North, who had nothing to do
with the side of his real father’s family. Jon had been raised as a Stark and
had never known another family. He was a boy innocent of Rhaegar’s crimes and
he most certainly did not deserve Robert Baratheon’s wrath.
But still, even after they had received the ravens and although their stance
had considerably relaxed, it was obvious that they were not convinced and felt
uncertain about Jon. They didn’t like having someone bearing the Targaryen name
in their midst and so, her father had come up with a final plan. To give Jon
his mother’s name and legitimize him as a Stark instead of a Targaryen and then
to marry him off to Sansa in order to strengthen his Stark legacy and remove
any doubt from the Northern lords that Jon’s sympathies could lie with anyone
but the Starks and the North. He wanted to show them that Jon was a Stark and a
Northerner through and through; one that needed to be protected. And with that
Sansa couldn’t agree more.
Thus, when the time had come and Ned had asked for Jon and Sansa to visit him
in his solar and had revealed his plan, Sansa as a dutiful daughter and a Stark
had agreed to both Jon’s disbelief and her father’s relief. It had been
apparent that her lord father had thought that she would be the one to oppose
the union a lot more than Jon and her former half-brother had been simply
rendered speechless by her response. He had always thought of her as this silly
little girl that never cared about anyone but herself and even though it had
been nice for once to prove him wrong, deep inside she knew that he wasn’t
entirely wrong and her agreement to her father’s proposal wasn’t exactly a
selfless act.
If she was completely honest with herself, one of the main reasons she had
agreed, besides saving his life, was because of what she thought Jon could give
her in the future and given who his real father had been and what the outcome
of the war might be, he could give her more than most of the other lords in the
Seven Kingdoms ever could. Suddenly her dream of becoming a Queen wasn't so
far-fetched anymore.
“Have you completely lost your mind? Why did you agree when Father asked? I
know how you feel about me, Sansa. You never fail to make me aware of your
feelings. So, please explain to me why would you ever want to marry me?” Jon
yelled at her as he suddenly came to a halt in front of her, pulling her from
her thoughts. Sansa found it hard not to roll her eyes at him, but refrained
from doing so.
“Feelings don’t matter. It is my duty as a Stark to protect our family. Jon,
don’t you see? Everyone is in danger and even though you never asked for this,
it is all because of you. So, one would think that you would be a little more
thankful for the fact that all of us care about you so much to come up with a
plan like this and agree to do it instead of acting out. Would being married to
me really be that terrible for you? Up until yesterday you were a bastard with
no future and now you get to be a Stark and marry a real lady,” she told him as
Jon kept glaring at her.
“Yeah, a lady who happens to be my sister. Are you really in such a hurry to
follow in the Queen’s footsteps and make us the next Lannisters?” This time
Sansa couldn’t help rolling her eyes.
“Jon, don’t be so dramatic. We’re cousins, not siblings, and everyone is aware
of it. No one would accuse us of being like the Lannisters. Father said as
much. Besides, being a Targaryen yourself, I thought you wouldn’t find it that
big of a deal. It is me who should have a problem with this, not you.” Before
she even finished talking, Sansa realized the line she had crossed as she
watched Jon close his eyes, like he was trying to compose himself and not do
something he would regret.
“I’m a Stark, not a Targaryen and I can assure you that I would never fancy my
sisters. This whole conversation is meaningless. I’ve already made up my mind
about what I should do. I’ll join the Night’s Watch and rid you all of this
problem,” Jon said with finality, making Sansa start panicking. Something like
this would never work. He would never be safe, if he did this.
“You are a fool, if you think Robert Baratheon would let you live the rest of
your days on the Wall. The man is furious and he’s out for blood. The war he’s
in with the Lannisters isn’t doing any favors on his temper either. If you go
to the Wall, he’ll just send an assassin or order someone there to kill you.
Father will never let you go and take that chance. I won’t let you go. In fact
I forbid you to bring this up ever again,” she yelled at him and Jon sighed
deeply. She knew he knew she was right. It was written all over his face.
“And so what? You prefer we marry? You prefer to give up your freedom for me? I
know you, Sansa, and you’ve never acted this selfless and especially with
something like this that would impact and change your life so radically.”
“So, you think saving my cousin’s life and helping my family isn’t enough? Do
you really think that little of me?” she asked and she felt hurt by his
implication.
“Of course not, but-” Jon looked so conflicted, as he tried to find the words
to explain himself.
“I just don’t understand how you can possibly want this. You agreed so fast
like it was so easy for you to accept. You know, you were right when you said
that this is something I never thought I’d get to have. But what about you? Why
are you suddenly so accepting of marrying a bastard? It’s all I’ve ever been to
you and you never failed to remind me of my place. I just don’t understand your
change of heart. If anything, you should hate me even more now with everything
that’s happening.”
“I never hated you and I’m not going to start doing it now,” Sansa said and
then took a deep breath as she stared into his eyes.
“Jon, you must know why I was always so distant. It wasn’t because I didn’t
care for you, but because it hurt Mother. You know how she always felt about
you, before Father told us the truth, and I’m sure it’s not going to be easy
for her to shake off those feelings. I, however, never shared them. I was just
trying to please her and now there is no reason for that. I want to help you
and help our family get through this. It’s not easy for me as you say, but
perhaps it is a bit easier for me than it is for you because I never allowed
myself to feel towards you the same way I felt about our other siblings. Maybe
this isn’t the case for you and you’ve always seen me as your sister -even
though, I’m sure I’ve always been your least favorite sibling- but your role in
this house was never that clear for me.” Jon let out a humorless laugh as she
finished. Here she was opening her heart to him and he was laughing at her.
“And what is my role now? Am I supposed to just live here as your husband? With
Father, our siblings and your mother?”
“Nothing has to change in your relationship with them. You’ll be who you’ve
always been to them. It’s only our relationship that will have to change.”
“Sansa, come on. You know I have nothing to offer you. You’ve always dreamed of
having a castle of your own and of going south and I can’t give you any of
that. I don’t own any lands and the best case scenario is for us to stay
forever at Winterfell, while Robb rules it. If he lets us of course. Why would
you want that? One thing you always disliked more than me was the possibility
of spending the rest of your life in the North. You hate it here,” he told her
exasperated.
“It doesn’t have to be like this. I’m sure the chance will arise and we’ll have
a far more promising life than what you just described.” Sansa was confident in
what she was saying in her attempt to convince him, but as she watched him
looking at her skeptically, absorbing everything she had just said to him, she
quickly realized her mistake, the moment his eyes turned cold.  
“Oh, I see what this is about. Arya told me an interesting story the other day
about how you were crying for days when the King chose the Tyrell girl for his
son. You were hoping that because King Robert was Father’s friend he would ask
for your betrothal with the prince and your dreams shattered when he didn’t.
And now that my parentage was revealed you suddenly got your hopes up again.
This is all about you becoming a Queen, isn’t it?” he accused her and Sansa
flinched at the harshness of his tone.
“Jon, it’s not-”
“If this is why you agreed, go and tell Father right now that you made a
mistake and you don’t want this. I can’t believe you. We’re at the brink of war
and all you can think about are bloody songs and fairy tales,” Jon seethed and
Sansa felt tears filling her eyes. His words shouldn’t hurt as much as they
did. She knew he was right about most of it. How stupid her dreams always were
and why she was now doing everything that she was doing. She had never really
cared about Jon’s opinion of her before, but somehow now it was different. She
felt embarrassed that he was calling out on her like that and that he had such
a low opinion of her.
“I don’t think about songs and fairy tales. I know what’s at stake. But so what
if I wanted something more for us? We’re not the ones starting the war and if
we were to demand more at the end of it, our cause would be just. If we were
victorious, you would be the best candidate for the Throne. You would be the
rightful heir. You’re a Targaryen and it’s your birthright. Especially since
King Robert’s children proved to be nothing more than Lannister bastards. I
just want what’s best for you and for all of us,” Sansa defended herself as she
kept crying. Her tears were now running freely down her face, making Jon sigh
at the sight of her and kneel before her, taking her hands in his.
Good, Sansa thought to herself.
He should feel bad for making me cry.
“Sansa, war is never just. It’s war. It’s bloody and it’s terrible and a crown
or a throne isn’t something I would ever risk other people’s lives to get. I
don’t want the stupid throne. I just want us to be safe again. I don’t want to
be a Targaryen. All I ever wanted was to be our Father’s son. Ned Stark’s
trueborn son, like Robb and Bran and Rickon. All I ever wanted was to be a
brother that you would be proud of and that you would love like you do the rest
of them. But all I ever got from you in return were snarky remarks because I
was a bastard. Did you even stop to think how this makes me feel? My world is
crushed. I found out that in the end I never had a father either. My real
father is dead and so is my mother. I never met them. And all the jealousy and
resentment I felt all these years were for nothing. Because none of this was
ever mine to begin with,” Jon finished and Sansa, forgetting about her own
tears, suddenly felt the need to comfort him instead and so she squeezed his
hands back gently with hers.
“I know that you’re sad that Father is not really yours, but you’re still a
Stark. You’re Aunt Lyanna’s son and Father promised to give you the Stark name,
regardless of who your father was. Just because you’re not our Father’s son, it
doesn’t make you any less of a Stark. You’re just as much a Stark as the rest
of us. And perhaps he didn’t sire you but he was your father all the same,
because he raised you as his own. And if we marry, in a way he’ll become your
father even more so than before.”
“Sansa, I know that we were never close but still… I can’t see you as anything
but my sister. This marriage will never be fruitful and it will make us both
miserable.”
“I know it might feel like this in the beginning, but with time we can learn to
see each other differently,” Sansa said as Jon lowered his gaze to the ground.
“All I want is for us to be safe too, Jon. I don’t really care about the rest.
There is no time for us to find another way. You know this is our best hope to
unite everyone, while we still can, now that the Baratheons are dealing with
the Lannisters. Please, just say yes,” Sansa begged and kept holding on Jon’s
hands like her life was depending on it. And in a way it was.
“You know that Robb and the rest of our siblings are going to be furious when
they find out about this. They’re not going to accept it. And your mother. Oh,
your mother-”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not their place to tell us what to do. And I’m sure
they’ll be relieved when Father explains the reason. The North needs to see you
for who you really are. A Northerner and a Stark and this is the easiest and
most certain way to make that happen. Please, Jon. Just say yes, please…” Sansa
begged once more, staring in his brown eyes with her blue ones, and when she
was ready to give up, she saw Jon finally nodding his head reluctantly in
agreement.
“Yes,” he whispered to her and then they hugged and Sansa felt an unprecedented
relief flooding her.
***** The Betrothal *****
                                      Jon
“What were you and Sansa doing in Father’s solar?” Arya asked, appearing out of
nowhere, right after Jon and Sansa had parted ways outside the room. Jon
watched as his little sister kept looking suspiciously at Sansa while talking
to him, even though Sansa was walking down the hall and away from them, without
even sparing them a glance.
“Father needed us for something,” he answered, avoiding meeting her gaze. He
couldn’t help the way his heart started beating faster.
“Well, and why weren’t you with Father then? I saw him with Mother like a while
ago. Were you in there with Sansa this whole time?” Arya wondered, gawking at
him, as if it was preposterous for Jon to be spending any time with her big
sister. Well, in her defense Jon and Sansa hardly ever spent any time together
and when they did, their siblings were always with them.
“Uh...” Jon felt his mouth go dry as he tried to come up with a believable lie,
but he couldn’t find any words to speak. There was no way he was ready to tell
Arya the truth yet.
“Please don’t tell me she was sucking up to you, because of what Father told
us.”
“No, of course not. Father just wanted to make sure everything was alright
between us. You know our relationship hasn’t always been the best and it’s
important that we stay united during this difficult time,” he said and hoped
Arya wouldn’t ask any more questions.
“Oh. I guess that makes sense,” Jon was relieved to hear her say as they
started walking towards the yard. He was supposed to be sword fighting with
Robb and Theon before his father had called for him and Sansa. So, they would
probably still be there.
“You know, I’ve been thinking. Now that you’re a trueborn Targaryen, it means
you’re more important than any of us. Do you think that you could ride a dragon
like Aegon the Conqueror, if they still existed?” Arya asked and sounded really
excited about it.
“I sincerely doubt it,” he replied and then saw the way Arya’s face fell.
“I always wanted to be like Visenya,” she confessed and sighed deeply. It was
weird for Jon to hear her say that. If he had a choice, he wouldn’t be a
Targaryen at all. But Arya, just like Sansa, was always fascinated by the
Targaryens. For completely different reasons of course. Arya had always loved
the war stories about the dragons and the dragonriders and Sansa had always
loved the romantic stories, like the one about Queen Naerys and Aemon the
Dragonknight.
“You know that the fact I’m a Targaryen also means I’m not really your brother,
right?” Jon asked. He was confused as to why something like this would make
Arya happy. The two of them had always shared a deep bond and Jon for his part
had actually been crestfallen to learn that they weren’t siblings. Especially
when it came to her and Robb.
“Don’t be silly, Jon. You’ll always be my brother and I know for a fact that
Robb and the others agree with me. For us nothing has changed and I hope you
feel the same way. Now, I can’t swear for Sansa, but you know how she is,” Arya
said and Jon almost missed his step at the mention of his wife to be. He knew
exactly how Sansa felt about it, but at least he could count on the rest of his
siblings for support. He only hoped that his marriage with Sansa wouldn’t ruin
his relationship with them.
“I know you were too shocked to pay any attention to anything else that was
happening while Father was talking to us, but you should have seen her face. I
thought she was going to explode. I’m so happy she’ll never get to insult you
again. And if she ever makes fun of either of us, you’ll be able to just put
her in her place,” Arya told him gleefully and suddenly Jon for the first time
in forever felt the need to defend Sansa.
“Come on. Sansa has never been that mean to me or you,” he said lamely, knowing
exactly what a lie that was and causing a deep frown to appear on Arya’s face,
just as they were reaching the yard.
“Yes, she has. Why are you defending her? She’s always been mean to both of us
and especially you. Even Robb knows that, although he’s always defending her
himself. Isn’t that right, big brother?” Arya asked, looking expectantly at the
oldest of the Stark children.
“What are we talking about?” Robb asked, walking towards them with Theon in
tow, after having just stopped their sword practice.
“Sansa and how she’s always horrible to Jon,” Arya clarified.
“Can you really blame her?” Theon murmured and immediately shut up, when he
received a glare from all three of them.
“Why? Did she say something to you?” Robb asked with a worried look on his face
as he turned his attention to Jon.
“No, of course not,” Jon replied quickly, lowering his eyes to the ground and
finding a sudden interest in his boots.
“She didn’t say something now, but we were speaking generally,” Arya explained.
 “She was just taking Mother’s side. You know she loves you, though, right?”
Jon could feel Robb’s intense gaze on his person as he said that and he knew
his face and ears had already turned a shade darker while he kept staring at
his feet.
“Now that both her and Mother know the truth, it will be easier for her to show
that affection, I’m sure of it,” Robb reassured him then and Jon, knowing his
brother did that only because he had sensed his uneasiness, nodded. If only he
knew the real reason behind his reaction, Robb wouldn’t be trying to comfort
him.
“And you, little lady, stop complaining about our sister all the time. You know
she loves you as well,” his brother finally turned his attention to Arya and
Jon could breathe air again. He was sure that when Robb found out, he would
kill him.
“Whatever… Can I practice with you guys?”
“Absolutely not. Jon, you coming?” Robb asked and Jon nodded again reluctantly,
while he heard Arya whining next to him.
                                      ˜*˜
At dinner, everyone was surprised to see Sansa take the free seat next to Jon
instead of her usual one next to Robb or Jeyne Poole, after she entered the
Great Hall. Jon knew why she was doing it and as he felt her hand squeeze his
under the table, he could almost ignore all the strange gazes coming their way.
He desperately needed to believe that what she had told him was true and
everything would be okay, but he had trouble trusting her. Her very motives
when it came to their union were still worrisome to him. He could only hope she
wouldn’t try anything stupid to fulfill them in the future.
Tonight was the night his father would announce their betrothal and it was
going to be hell. Luckily for him, uncle Benjen, who had always been on his
side, was also here and if the smile he was trying to hide behind his wine cup,
when their eyes had met, was anything to go by, he already knew of what was
going to unfold and he seemed to have no problem with it. In fact, Jon was
willing to bet his uncle was also excitedly waiting for all the fainting and
yelling to start. The drama in their family had always amused him. As a Night’s
Watch Ranger, Benjen Stark had seen some serious stuff and he was always
reserved and solemn, except for when he was surrounded by all of them. The
children’s innocence and Arya’s mischief had always brought a smile on his
face. They all loved their uncle Ben and he loved all of them back just as
deeply, and his presence during this dinner was something that definitely gave
Jon courage. At least until his eyes met Lady Stark’s.
Her icy glare told him all he needed to know. The moment her blue eyes that
were so much like Sansa’s locked onto his, he could tell she already knew as
well and he felt all his courage escaping his body, causing him to withdraw his
hand from Sansa’s like it was on fire. Although he felt his sister’s hurt gaze
on him, he didn’t dare to look back at her or explain, but instead, taking a
nearby pitcher, he filled his wine cup and then drank it all down, like he was
a man dying of thirst.
The evening continued in pretty much the same way. Jon kept drinking like there
was no tomorrow, without ever opening his mouth to speak to anyone and Sansa
kept sulking next to him, avoiding all contact as well. His eyes had caught
Robb’s worried gaze a few times, while his brother was talking to Theon, but he
always just gave him a shrug in response and went back to drinking. Arya,
although she was mostly engrossed in conversation with their two little
brothers, did the same as Robb, but every time her eyes drifted towards their
sister and turned hard, making Jon aware of what his little sister was probably
thinking. That he was brooding because he was stuck sitting alone next to
Sansa. Fortunately, his father didn’t pay him any mind, and if he did, he
already knew the reason behind Jon’s odd behavior and let it go, being too busy
discussing about the Lannisters and the Baratheons with uncle Benjen, Ser
Rodrik Cassel and his nephew Jory, as well as the rest of the guests. Jon was
certain that the reason all of them were here was because of what his lord
father meant to announce later.
The strangest of the looks he got all night, however, didn’t belong to a member
of his family. They belonged to none other than Jeyne Poole. Jeyne was Sansa’s
best friend and never while he had been growing up had she paid any attention
to him. But of course, why would she have? He had been no one but a bastard and
she was too much like Sansa to see past that and so she had only ever looked
like that at Robb or even Theon. However, now that she knew of his parentage,
she seemed to have changed her ways. Every time he had caught her looking at
him, there was always a warm smile on her lips, while she playfully stared at
him, sometimes hiding behind her drink or other times playing absently with her
curls.
If only things were so simple and he had to marry Jeyne instead of Sansa. Even
though Jeyne was just as stuck-up as Sansa, at least she wasn’t his sister and
Jon would marry her in a heartbeat, if it meant he could avoid marrying someone
whom he grew up thinking of as his sibling. So, in his drunken state, he had no
problem returning some of those smiles and glances and if Sansa noticed, he
couldn’t tell, because he purposefully kept his eyes away from her face. He
already knew she was disappointed in his behavior, he didn’t need to see how
angry she really was.
After a long time had passed and the table had been cleared of almost all the
food, Jon chanced a glance towards his father, who was sitting at the head of
the table and Ned, meeting his gaze, gave him a reassuring smile, before he got
up and demanded everyone’s attention.
“I know some of you are still struggling with what I revealed to you a few days
ago and I also know you’re aware of what this revelation has caused. When he’s
done with the Lannisters, King Robert’s wrath will follow the North and our
family. You must be sure of that. He’s always been obsessed with what happened
to Lyanna and he’s not going to forgive me. He thinks I betrayed him. He wants
Jon dead and he’ll try everything to get his way,” his father said and looked
at everyone’s worried faces. Lady Stark was the only one who didn’t match their
expressions and Jon knew it was not because she wasn’t worried, but because she
knew where this speech was going.
His father had told him that she was having a hard time forgiving him for not
trusting her in the first place and keeping it a secret from her for all these
years. And Jon knew that the truth hadn’t really changed the way she looked at
him. He could only imagine how she was feeling now that his father was planning
on marrying her daughter with Jon. He could see it every time their eyes would
meet, how terrified she was of what this might mean for her family. She was
worried for Robb’s place and the rest of her trueborn children’s place. She
knew that in the end, Jon was more highborn than any of them. If Rhaegar
Targaryen hadn’t lost and died at the battle of the Trident, Jon would have
grown up as a prince, because just like his real father he was the blood of the
dragon, even though Jon felt nothing like it. Nevertheless, he could tell that
Lady Stark had no desire to see her daughter wedded to him. Well, that made two
of them.
“This is why it is necessary that when the time comes and Robert does turn on
us, we, the North, are united. Most of the lords have expressed doubt,
regarding Jon and his loyalties. They don’t trust to have a Targaryen among
them. Because, even though many years ago I claimed Jon as my own and made him
a Snow, the truth is that he is indeed a trueborn Targaryen,” Ned confessed and
without realizing it, Jon was the one to reach for Sansa’s hand under the table
now, surprising her. He knew what was coming and it wasn’t winter they needed
to worry about.
“So, I plan to remove any doubt in their minds by giving Jon the Stark name,”
his father announced and Jon could hear people gasp around the table. Suddenly,
Lady Stark’s icy stare returned to him, making Jon wish he could vanish. The
good thing was that when he looked at the faces of his siblings and the rest of
the people attending dinner, he only saw approval but also confusion at what
Ned was saying.
“This is great, my Lord. But how do you plan to do this? You need the King’s
approval to legitimize Jon as a Stark, even if we all know he’s not a Snow. And
I’m sure Robert Baratheon isn’t going to be willing,” came Ser Rodrik Cassel’s
voice from where he was sitting near his father, turning everyone’s attention
to him.  
“No, I cannot do this without the King’s approval, but there are other ways for
someone to change their name. Marriage has always been one of the best ways to
make alliances and Jon is old enough to wed. However, the same way the other
Northern lords don’t trust Jon, I don’t trust them with his life either. I’m
not going to betroth him to a girl from another house and risk them turning on
us and handing him over to Robert. This is why I’ve decided that Jon must marry
within our own house and therefore take the Stark name,” his father said, and
if they had been surprised before, now they all looked shocked.
“What do you mean, Father?” Robb asked as he got up from his seat, expressing
everyone’s confusion who kept whispering around the table. All except for Lady
Stark, who was just looking between Jon and Sansa, unable to hide her
disapproval and Theon Greyjoy who seemed to know exactly where his lord father
was going with this. Theon had always prided himself for being the last living
son of Balon Greyjoy, lord of the Iron Islands, and had always made fun of Jon
for being a Snow. But in reality, Theon had always wished of being a Stark and
Robb’s real brother. And Jon knew by the way Theon kept glaring daggers at him
that the reason he picked up on his father’s meaning so fast was because in the
past, he had considered the possibility of marrying Sansa himself. Strangely,
the realization made Jon want to hold onto Sansa’s hand even tighter.
“How can Jon possibly marry within our own house? We don’t have any cousins for
him to marry. Uncle Benjen has no children and we have no other relatives
bearing the Stark name.”
 “No, Benjen has no daughters for Jon to marry, but I do. I have two daughters
and they’re both Jon’s cousins. And one of them is old enough to be betrothed
to him,” his father said and the moment he did all eyes turned to look at him
and Sansa and if Jon had thought Lady Stark’s hateful glare was bad, it was the
look of betrayal and disgust he saw on Robb and Arya’s faces that hurt him the
most.
“WHAT?! Father, you can’t be serious! Jon and Sansa? No way!” Arya screamed as
she got up as well.
“Arya, please sit down,” Ned tried to calm her down, but before anyone had a
chance to react, Arya was out of her seat and was attacking Sansa, grabbing her
from her hair and dragging her out of Jon’s grasp as well as her seat at the
table.
“You manipulative bitch! Now that you know how important Jon is, you want to
take him for yourself, when you always hated him. You did this! You did this,”
Arya accused and kept pulling Sansa’s hair, while Sansa was crying and
screaming. Jon and Robb were both on them immediately, trying to separate them,
but Arya had a strong grip on her sister’s hair and was unwilling to let go.
“Arya, stop right now!” his father yelled from the other side of the table, but
still Arya did not listen. Jory Cassel joined then in the attempt to separate
the sisters, while the rest stared at the scene frozen in place and it was only
when Arya managed to pull out a large lock of Sansa’s hair and the redhead
screamed in pain that Robb and Jory managed to pull Arya back. Arya, who was
left staring at the hair in her hand, only now realizing what she had done,
while Sansa crumbled in Jon’s arms, crying and holding her head, which was now
bleeding from the spot her sister had violently pulled her hair from.
“Robb, take Arya to her room. Now!” his father ordered, losing his patience and
Robb following his order, took Arya -who had now gone slack in his arms, still
staring at the red hair in her hand- out of the Great Hall, giving one last
glare towards Jon, who stood frozen with his arms around Sansa, while she kept
crying silently with her face buried in his chest. From pain, from
embarrassment, Jon didn’t know. Maybe a little bit of both.
“Someone check on Sansa,” his father commanded and fell back on his chair,
sighing deeply, only to receive a glare from Lady Stark, as she stood up to get
to her daughter.
“I think you’ve done enough,” she told Jon angrily, pulling Sansa away from
him, just in time for Maester Luwin to come to their aid and inspect Sansa’s
head. Sansa, who had now taken refuge in her lady mother’s arms.
“It’s not that bad. We will clean the blood from the wound and it will be fine.
The bleeding is already stopping,” the Maester said and Jon let out a breath he
didn’t know he was holding.
“Well, to Jon and Sansa’s betrothal! I hope the wedding is half as eventful,”
came Benjen Stark’s amused voice then, raising his cup in the air before
winking at Jon and drinking down a long swallow. Jon could do nothing but stand
there in defeat.
                                        
***** A Marriage Only In Name *****
Chapter Notes
     Happy New Year, everyone!!!
     Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos! I really appreciate
     it!
     I'd love to read your thoughts on this chapter as well! :)
                                     Sansa
Sansa could still feel her scalp burning at the spot where Arya had pulled her
hair from earlier and she kept trembling, while she lay on top of the furs of
her bed. She was angry with her sister and with everyone else who hadn’t
defended her. Yes, they had pulled Arya off of her, but only after she had
managed to rip her hair out of her head. And then no one had said anything in
her defense about the cruel things Arya had said to her. Not even Jon. Jon had
just stood there like an idiot and had seemed to care more about Arya and how
she was reacting and feeling than protecting and defending Sansa.
Is that what they all think of me? How they all see me? As a manipulative
bitch, who’s always hated Jon and only turned to him when it suited her?
Isn’t that exactly what you did though? A little voice wondered inside her
head, but Sansa immediately denied it. Arya could be right about a lot of
things, but she was wrong about this. Sansa had never hated Jon and she would
never let anyone accuse her of that. The reason she had agreed to this match
was first and foremost to protect him and that was the only truth. No one had
the right to tell her that she didn’t care about Jon.
Even if Jon himself doesn’t believe me, she thought to herself and it made her
shudder, feeling fresh tears coming to her eyes.
The night had been nothing but terrible. When she had entered the Great Hall,
she had been hopeful, despite also feeling a little insecure. She had
anticipated that her siblings wouldn’t take the news kindly, but she had never
thought she would get attacked for it and most importantly, she had never
expected Jon would simply stand by and let it happen.
Jon had been awful to her during the entire evening. She had come to him,
thinking they were together in this, but it hadn’t been long before he had
proved her wrong. From the moment she had first seen him sitting by himself,
away from their other siblings, she had known how terrified he must have been
feeling and so -ignoring Jeyne Poole’s wave, inviting her to sit beside her
like usual- she had chosen the empty seat next to Jon, getting disbelieving
looks from everyone around her for her trouble and especially that of her
friend’s, who had looked at her like she had suddenly grown two heads.
Sansa hadn’t minded, however, because Jon’s well-being was far more important
than any look Jeyne Poole could give her. Soon, they were going to be married
and Jon would become the most important person in her life and she had wanted
him to know that she could be that person for him too, when she had taken his
hand in hers. But before she even had had a chance to speak to him and see how
he was doing, he had pulled his hand from hers like she had offended him by
merely trying to be supportive. Instead of comforting him, she had managed to
somehow anger him even more and then he had started drinking, like he had had
no other way of coping and had ignored her for the rest of dinner. During said
dinner -as if all of that hadn’t been enough already- he had kept exchanging
flirty smiles and glances with Jeyne, leaving Sansa feeling utterly humiliated.
Sansa knew Jeyne had only been doing it to punish her for ignoring her by
proving her that Jon had more interest in her than he had in Sansa, who had
been sitting right next to him, and although she thought it was cruel and she
didn’t deserve it, she could find it in her heart to forgive her, because her
friend had had no idea about the betrothal yet. Jon, however, had knowingly
flirted with her, even though Sansa had been right there and she could see
everything.
Is this what it’s going to be like? she asked herself, but then her mind
provided her with the image of Jon holding her hand under the table, right when
their lord father had been about to announce their betrothal.
Maybe it doesn’t have to. Maybe there’s still hope. I can make him learn to
love me and only me, she decided, wiping her tears off her face, as a knock was
suddenly heard upon her door.
“Who is it?” she asked, trying to make herself presentable. She had already
embarrassed herself enough for one night. She wouldn’t give anyone the
satisfaction to see her still upset and in tears.
“It’s me. Robb. May I come in?” came her brother’s voice from the other side of
her chamber’s door, making her heart race.
“Come in,” she replied after a moment of hesitation, as she sat upright at the
edge of her bed.
She was scared to look at him, when Robb opened the door and stepped inside,
but after a while of no talk or movement, she finally found the courage to look
at him and was met with a pair of sad blue eyes, instead of the angry ones she
expected. Robb, sighing deeply, closed the door behind him then and walked
slowly to her bed, sitting next to her, as they both stared at the floor
instead of each other.
“Are you alright?” he asked after another moment of silence.
“Sure,” she answered and Robb sighed again, burying his face in his hands. She
didn’t mean to sound sarcastic, but it was a stupid question considering
everything that had happened that night.
“I’m sorry about what Arya did. She shouldn’t have-”
“Shouldn’t she be the one apologizing right now instead of you?” Sansa asked
exasperated, interrupting him and Robb, letting his hands drop in his lap,
turned to look at her.
“You have to understand how difficult this is for all of us to stomach. I
can’t… Sansa, how could you and Jon possibly agree to this? It’s insane. I
just… I can’t wrap my head around this. How would you feel, if I were to tell
you that Arya and I were getting married?”
“Robb, don’t be ridiculous. It’s not the same thing. Arya and you are
siblings.”
“And you and Jon aren’t?” he asked and this time he sounded angry.
“No, we’re not. We’re cousins and cousins get married all the time.”
“Sansa, please don’t try to sell me the same story Father sold us earlier. You
and Jon are not cousins. You are his sister, the same way you are mine and he
is your brother, the same way I am yours. I don’t care, if he’s a fucking
Targaryen. This changes nothing.”
“Yes, it does. It changes the fact he’s no longer safe. It changes the fact
that the North’s allegiance to our House is hanging by a thread. Our own lives
are at stake,” she yelled, meeting his eyes that were full of anger just like
hers.
“And you somehow think that you marrying our brother will change that? Sansa
you don’t have to sacrifice yourself for this shit. We’ll find another way,”
Robb pleaded and took her hands in his own.
“I’m not sacrificing myself. I want this,” she said then, but couldn’t meet his
eyes. Robb would never let them go through with it, if he knew how they both
really felt. How he already knew they felt. He had always been overprotective
of her and he loved Jon dearly to let them end up in a loveless and fruitless
marriage with each other. So, she was going to have to convince him that what
he knew was not the truth. Even if that made him feel sicker than he already
felt. Because even if Robb didn’t want to admit it, this was their best hope to
survive.
“Please, I know you are not the person Arya claimed you to be earlier. You are
far too kind and romantic to be this manipulative. You can’t possibly want to
marry him just because he’s a Targaryen. That name is more a curse than a
blessing. You know it is.”
“Maybe you’re right and it is. Although, I won’t say it didn’t cross my mind,
especially because I’m such a romantic as you say. I always loved the songs and
love stories around the Targaryens. But that’s not the reason I agreed to marry
him. I did it, because I love him.”
“Of course you do. He’s our brother. But I already told you, we’ll find another
way. You don’t need to marry him to protect him and our family.”
“No, you don’t understand. It’s not what I meant.”
“And what did you mean then?” Robb asked exasperated, letting go of her hands.
“I love him the way a woman loves a man. I think I’ve been falling for him for
some time now,” she said and then chanced a look at Robb, who was just staring
at her blankly, without uttering a word. She could barely hear him breathe.
“I… I think I might have started having these feelings even before Father told
us the truth of his parentage. I just didn’t know how to interpret them then,
because he was my brother, even if only half. He was always so infuriating and
I was always trying to keep my distance from him and I think deep inside I
always knew why, but didn’t want to admit it. I know you thought it was only
because of Mother, but there was more to it than that. When Father told us the
truth, I felt such relief and immediately I knew the reason.”
“Sansa, you can’t mean that,” Robb said in a low voice and looked as if he was
going to throw up any moment now.
“I do mean it. I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the
truth.”
“And what about Jon? How does he feel?”
“All I know is that Jon agreed to it, so you’d better not interfere. It’s a
done deal. We both wish to wed, so you have to let us. It won’t feel this odd
forever, I promise.”
“So, you want what happened tonight with Arya to keep happening for the rest of
your days then?”
“Honestly, I couldn’t care less about how Arya feels. She has always despised
me and now she’s just jealous that she’s gonna have to share Jon with me.
She’ll get over it. What I care about is you. I need you to understand and to
support me,” Sansa said as she turned to look at him with pleading eyes.
Robb sighed deeply then and once more buried his face in his hands, which were
shaking.
“Why are you doing this to me? Do you know what you’re asking?”
“Yes. I’m asking you to be my brother and help me. Be there for me and not turn
against me. Gods know everyone else is. Please, Robb. I have to marry Jon. It’s
the only way I know I can protect him.”
“Sansa, I could barely accept the idea of you two having a marriage just in
name, but that is a hell lot different than what you want. Being in love with
him means you want a real marriage.”
“What I want and what I’ll get are two completely different things. Jon, even
though he agreed, doesn’t feel the same way. So, if all I can get is him safe
by my side, I’ll take it. Even if it’s a marriage in name only. I will know
that I did everything to protect my beloved and the rest of my family. Please,
don’t resent me and don’t be angry at Jon. Help me, Robb. You’re the only one I
can count on,” Sansa said and her sad eyes met Robb’s conflicted ones.
“All I can promise is that I will try. Right now the thought is unbearable to
me,” he told her after a few moments of silence.
“It’s all I ask,” Sansa said back, placing her hand on his shoulder. Robb
patted her hand with his own and smiled sadly at her.
“Whatever happens, know that I will always have your back, even if I never wrap
my head around this.”
“I love you, Robb.”
“I love you, too,” Robb said and hugged her, as Sansa let a couple of silent
tears fall from her eyes. Before he said it, she had no idea how much she had
needed to hear it. Robb had always been her biggest ally and now that she knew
he would support her, even if he didn’t agree, she could breathe air again and
somehow she knew that everything would be alright.
                                      ˜*˜
                                      Jon
“Arya?” Jon called his little sister’s name for the fifth time, knocking
tiredly on her chamber’s door, while resting his forehead on the wood. The
events of the night had been enough to sober him up, but had also drained him
both physically and mentally, as had being on edge all day, waiting for the
time of the announcement to come.
“GO AWAY!” Arya yelled from inside her room, acknowledging him for the first
time and making Jon sigh in frustration.
“I won’t leave until you open this door. I need to talk to you. Please-” Jon
started pleading, when suddenly the door flew open and he was met with Arya’s
furious gaze as he attempted to regain his balance, which he was thrown off.
“What do you want, traitor?” she asked with a venomous look on her face. Jon
had never seen this side of Arya and he had never thought he would ever be on
the receiving end of his little sister’s glaring eyes. He had always been her
favorite brother and she his favorite sister and watching the anger and
disappointment in her eyes hurt him deeply.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re angry with me, but I need to explain. It wasn’t an
easy decision, Arya, but Father thinks it’s the best way. Sansa and I-”
“So now it’s Sansa and you,” she said and Jon felt heat rising to his face, as
he looked at both sides of the corridor. If they stayed here anyone could hear
them.
“May I come inside? Please…” he asked, looking at her with pleading eyes, until
she moved aside, letting out an irritated huff of breath and let him enter,
closing the door behind them.
“How could you, Jon? She’s our sister and even if she wasn’t, she’s Sansa. I
think that’s enough reason for you to never want anything to do with her.”
“You’re being too hard on her. She’s only trying to help and do as Father says
and so do I. It’s not something we want, Arya, but something we must do to
protect our family. I’ve put you all in danger and Father gave me a way to make
it better and I took it. As for Sansa, she’s only doing her duty. You shouldn’t
have attacked her like that. You hurt her and I’m not just talking about the
hair you pulled out,” Jon said and at his words Arya looked guiltily at the
floor.
“I didn’t mean to hurt her like that, but I was so enraged. Robb said I
shouldn’t blame her for everything and that you’re just as responsible for this
as she is. And he’s right. I’m so mad at both of you, but I’m used to being
angry at her and it was all I could think in that moment.”
“You should apologize to her. She didn’t deserve your reaction.”
“Fine, tell her I’m sorry then.”
“No, you must do it, yourself.”
“Whatever,” Arya said and paused, before she chanced a look at Jon again.
“Is she alright?” she asked, biting her lip anxiously.
“I don’t know. Her head is fine, but I haven’t seen her since the incident.
Lady Stark took her away and I didn’t dare look for her. I know I should have,
but I didn’t want to anger your lady mother more than I already had,” Jon
answered and he looked defeated. He still didn’t know how to handle the whole
thing with Lady Stark. Even if he and Sansa could find a way to coexist as a
couple, he was certain that her mother would never accept him as her daughter’s
husband.
“Robb said that he would check on her. I’m sure he’ll calm her down. And even
though I really don’t want to, I promise to apologize to her tomorrow,” Arya
said hurriedly, as if she sensed his turmoil.
“Is Mother giving you a hard time?” she asked then and looked sorry for him.
“Well, the same way you blamed Sansa, Lady Stark blames me… only worse. I don’t
think she has it in her heart to forgive me. She thinks I’m responsible for
everything that’s happening and I don’t blame her. She’s right.”
“No, Jon. You did nothing wrong… Well, except for agreeing to marry Sansa,”
Arya said, annoyance returning to her face, but before long her expression
changed again back to worry.
“Do you think Father is right? Is this really the best way to protect you?” she
asked and as much as Jon wanted to deny it, after thinking it over and over
again in his head and trying to come up with a different plan ever since he had
agreed to it, he had no choice but to nod his head in agreement, as Arya let a
frustrated sigh escape her lips.
“What is it going to be like from now on? I can’t believe I will have to share
you with Sansa of all people. I was always your favorite the same way Sansa was
Robb’s and I was okay with that. But now she gets to have you both. It’s not
fair,” Arya whined and Jon, trying to comfort her, moved forward and took her
in his arms.
“You’ll always be my favorite. Marriage or no marriage that will never change.
Sansa can barely tolerate me and I her. This will be a marriage in name only.
Nothing will change. I promise,” he said and kissed the top of her head,
feeling Arya’s body relax in his embrace.
“Are you sure? Have you talked about this with Sansa? Did she agree? I mean,
getting married is all she’s ever dreamed of,” Arya asked, searching the lie in
his eyes.
“I’m sure. We both feel the same way. We’re only doing it for the family. This
marriage is a farce, so you don’t need to worry your pretty little head
anymore,” Jon assured her and he meant every word, because he couldn’t even
begin to comprehend the situation being any different from that.
“I’m sorry I doubted you. I never should have acted like this. I love you,
Jon,” Arya said and a contented smile was formed on her face.
“I love you too, sis,” Jon said back, hugging her tighter to his body and just
for one moment, everything was right again in the world.
***** The Old Gods *****
Chapter Notes
     Thank you all for your kind comments and the kudos! You're all
     awesome! :)
                                     Sansa
It was still dark, when Sansa finally decided to get out of bed and start her
day. She knew that it was too early for anyone to be awake, since the sun
hadn’t even risen yet, but she couldn’t stand another moment of shifting and
turning in her bed. The events of the previous day, even though they had left
her drained, they had also made her restless and so after Robb’s visit, she had
spent the rest of the night, lying awake under her furs and contemplating
everything that had happened.
Jon had naturally been the main reason for her restlessness, as his behavior
and her lie to Robb about him had kept circling her mind. While she had been
with her brother and after she had told him about her feelings for Jon, they
had both heard him calling Arya’s name and probably pounding on her little
sister’s door. At the sound of Jon’s voice, an awkward silence had spread
between her and Robb and soon after, her brother had wished her good night and
had left her chambers.
It had been obvious that both she and Robb had thought that if Jon was looking
for Arya, he would soon come looking for Sansa as well. And even though Robb
had been itching to have a fight with Jon before -since he had thought Jon was
the one mainly responsible for what was happening- after her revelation,
avoiding him had been all he seemed to have wanted. Robb had looked pale at the
prospect of facing his brother in his sister’s chambers, after everything she
had told him and even though Sansa understood his discomfort and sympathized
with him, she couldn’t help but hope that one day, her and Jon could learn to
care for one another, even if it wasn’t as man and wife.
But Jon had never come and that had only served to make her angrier.
Of course Jon would look to comfort sweet little Arya, but apparently showing
any kind of interest in his future wife is at the bottom of his list of
priorities, thought Sansa bitterly as she started putting her cloak over her
night rail.
She wasn’t in the mood to get properly dressed yet, since no one would be awake
to see her anyway. So, she decided to just put on her cloak and shoes and head
for the Godswood. If sleep didn’t want to come and rid her of her uneasiness,
perhaps praying to the Gods would. Then she would return to her chambers to
bathe and change and afterwards she would seek her family in the Great Hall to
break her fast with them. Surely they would be all awake by then.
It was only later when she finally reached the heart tree that she wondered why
she had chosen to come here to pray instead of the Sept. Perhaps she was
subconsciously trying to get closer to Jon, who had never shown any love for
the New Gods, but only ever prayed to the Gods the children of the forest of
Old Nan’s stories had once worshiped, just like her lord father. Sansa knew Jon
came daily to pray under the heart tree and she thought the Old Gods would be
the best to answer her prayers, since they already knew all of Jon’s secrets.
If they could see Sansa’s pure intentions towards Jon, perhaps they would help
her gain his affections.
Please, let him see I truly care about him, was all she kept thinking as she
knelt at the bottom of the tree between the large white roots that were
spreading on the ground.
I’ll be a good wife to him. I know we’ve never been close and that I have even
been mean to him in the past, but all I want is for him to be safe. Help me
save our family, save him. Please, protect him from the King’s wrath. He is not
responsible for anything he’s being accused of. He’s just a boy that was born
out of love. His parents’ crimes are not his fault. Help the rest of the North
see that and how kind and loyal he really is. If he gives us a chance I know we
can be happy together. This doesn’t have to be a farce. I do want to have a
real marriage with him. To give him children. I know I lied to Robb when I told
him I was in love with Jon, but one day I really want to be.  Please, bless us
both. Bless our union, she prayed and as she did, a cold wind blew and it was
only then she felt the tears that were quickly drying on her face, making her
skin get even colder. However, she didn’t try to wipe them away. Instead, she
let herself welcome the wind on her face and her hair and felt as if it was the
Gods who were answering her prayers through the rustling of the heart tree’s
red leaves.
She was entranced by the sounds of the Godswood around her and the feeling of
the wind through her hair and on her body. Although she was so close to the
base of the tree and was mostly covered by its roots and its trunk, the wind
was so strong that it almost uncloaked her, making her body shiver and her
nipples harden beneath her thin night rail, but Sansa was hardly bothered. On
the contrary, she felt bliss at that moment. A bliss that she hadn’t felt in a
long time, if she had ever even felt it at all. So, as the wind kept blowing,
she found herself lying even closer to the tree, right under the long and
melancholic carved face of one of the Old Gods and before she knew it, her eyes
shut and sweet sleep claimed her tired body.
                                      ˜*˜
                                      Jon
Jon had no idea what it was that had made him wake up, but he decided it was
probably for the best. His sleep had been full of strange dreams that did
nothing to help him forget his thoughts and dull his fears, but had left him
feeling even more tired and drained than before. It was still very early in the
morning, the sun only now rising on the horizon, and his headache was coming
back with a vengeance, making him regret every single drop of wine he had had
at dinner.
As he sat upright on his bed, dragging his feet lazily from under the covers to
the ground and trying hard and failing to ignore the stabbing pains inside his
head, he felt a cool breeze on his naked torso and his face, moving his curls
out of his eyes, and for the first time since he had come to his chambers the
previous night to sleep, he noticed that his window was wide open.
That made him pause for a moment, because he clearly remembered the window
being closed, but then again he couldn’t really trust his last night’s
inebriated brain to provide him with the truth and so he stopped thinking too
much about it, as the hair on his body stood on end from the cold and moved to
shut the window, as fast as his tired body allowed.
Right when he was about to, however, a howling wolf caught his attention. It
sounded as if it was in pain and Jon listening carefully, realized that the
sounds were coming from the Godswood. But that was impossible. How had a wolf
entered the Godswood, when there were walls all around? It was insane and yet
there was no mistaking that the howling was indeed coming from there. On the
spur of the moment and without knowing what possessed him, Jon started putting
on his clothes, forgetting all about his aching head, and before long he was
out of his chambers and on his way to the Godswood.
                                      ˜*˜
The wolf had stopped howling, but Jon could feel he was getting closer, because
even though the last of the wolf’s howls had sounded weak, they had also
sounded like they were coming from somewhere very near him and when he finally
reached the heart tree, he knew he had been right to believe so.
A large direwolf, the first Jon had ever seen, was sprawled across the ground
in front of Winterfell’s weirwood heart tree, right next to the pool, with its
gray fur dripping with red blood from where a stag’s antler was coming out of
its body. He didn’t have to get closer to know that the wolf was already dead,
but he knelt down carefully all the same next to the beast and ran his hand
through its thick fur.
It was only when a whining sound was heard that Jon dragged his eyes away from
the direwolf and looked behind him and from the sight alone, his heart almost
stopped beating. Fear gripped him as he watched Sansa lying pale under the
heart tree, between the roots, with small direwolf pups surrounding her
unresponsive body.
For a moment, he just stood there watching in horror, but quickly he came back
to his senses and ran to her, taking her body in his arms.
“Sansa… Sansa, wake up! Talk to me! Come on, open your eyes, sweetling!” he
kept saying, as he touched her face and then checked her body for any traumas.
Her skin was freezing cold, but thankfully there were not any obvious injuries
on her person and Jon soon felt her heart beating slowly but surely inside her
chest as she shallowly breathed through her nose.
“Sansa, come back to me! Wake up!” Jon urged her, after he took off his cloak
and covered her with it, trying his best to warm her up and stay calm enough to
help her. But the longer she remained unresponsive the more afraid he became,
until suddenly, he saw Sansa’s eyes slowly fluttering open and meeting his own.
Jon could cry from joy at that moment, but he only gripped her tighter to his
body, burying her face in his chest, as the little direwolves around them
looked at them curiously, while they kept making what sounded like distressed
noises.
“Jon,” Sansa murmured then, moving her face upwards, nuzzling his neck with her
cold nose, but warming him with her breath.
“I’m right here. It’s alright. You’re alright,” he reassured her, while he kept
running his hands up and down her back to help her get warm, but it felt as if
he was trying to convince himself more than he did her.
“What happened?” she asked, almost whispering, and she sounded confused.
“You tell me. What in seven hells were you doing out here so early with so
little clothing on? Were you trying to freeze yourself to death?” he asked her
in return and without meaning to do it, his voice came out a little harsh.
“No... I… I just wanted to pray, but I must have fallen asleep,” she answered
and although he couldn’t see her face, Jon could still hear her teeth
chattering from the cold. She was definitely going to be sick after this. He
couldn’t wrap his mind around why she had come here to pray so early in the
morning. The sun had only just risen when he had come here himself and she had
been in the Godswood long before he had. And what was she doing praying in the
Godswood anyway? He had never seen her praying anywhere but the Sept and now
she had just happened to start praying in front of the heart tree at this
ungodly hour?
“Do you feel any pain?” he asked her then bringing his lips to her forehead to
check her temperature, despite being already aware of her cold skin all over.
“I’m so cold,” she replied and just buried her face even deeper in his neck.
“Can you hold onto me? I’ll take you back to the castle.”
Sansa did not reply but only wrapped her arms around his neck, after Jon felt
her nodding against him, and so, after placing one arm on her back and the
other under her knees, he picked her up. As he stood on his legs, her weight
was light on his arms and quickly, with steady steps, he started moving through
the Godswood.
To his amazement, the little direwolf pups started following them back to the
castle, leaving their dead mother behind and before long, one of them, an
albino, with fur white as snow and eyes red as blood, came to his front and
started leading the way, as the rest kept running beside him from each side.
Right then, Jon knew that these direwolves were a blessing from the Gods and
bringing him to Sansa was the only reason they had made it to the Godswood. If
it wasn’t for them, he never would have found her in time and things could have
been a lot worse for her. He couldn’t even bear to imagine how much worse. So,
he swore to anyone that was listening that he would personally see to all the
pups’ care and that he would not let them have the fate of their mother. But as
he kept walking behind the silent white one, while the rest of them kept
whining on each side, he already knew which would be his favorite.
                                      ˜*˜
                                     Sansa
Sansa woke up slowly to the blurry image of her bed’s familiar canopy. She
tried to bring her hand to her face and rub the sleep from her eyes, but she
felt her arms being confined by heavy furs that were tucked carefully at her
sides.
Without looking to see if there was anyone around, she found herself calling
for Jon, since he was the last person she had seen before she had fallen asleep
again. The last thing she could remember was him carrying her through the
Godswood back to the castle and then nothing more.
However, it wasn’t Jon’s voice that came as an answer to her call, but Arya’s.
“Sorry to disappoint, but it’s just me,” her little sister said from her seat
next to her bed and Sansa tried to sit upright, fighting off the dizziness that
was clouding her senses.
“Don’t get up. You’re still very weak,” Arya told her as she rushed to her side
and pushed her gently back down.
“Where is Jon? Is it noon already? How long have I been asleep?” she asked in a
voice hoarse from disuse as she focused her gaze on Arya, only now noticing
that she had been embroidering by her bed. Which was even stranger than her
little sister being in her chambers, watching over her while she slept and that
was saying something, since Arya never seemed to want to spend any time with
her, but always favored the company of their brothers. But even so, it was
embroidering she hated the most and for good reason. She had always been
terrible at it. If anyone asked Sansa, she would say Arya’s embroidering skills
were a lost cause.
“It depends. What’s the last thing you remember?” Arya asked her in return
instead of answering, annoying Sansa.
“Why are you here? Did you finally come to apologize?” She asked back, leaving
Arya’s question unanswered as well. She was expecting her sister to throw a fit
at her words, like usual, but Arya only gave her a questioning look.
“No, seriously, what’s the last thing you remember?” Arya asked for a second
time, making Sansa start feeling uneasy. Why was that so important? How long
had she slept for?
“I was at the Godswood praying and then Jon found me and brought me back here,
the morning after you attacked me like a wild animal, which you still haven’t
apologized for. That’s the last thing I remember.”
“I didn’t know it was possible, but getting your moonblood has made you even
crankier than before. Theon was right about something for once,” Arya said and
it did nothing to help with the uneasiness Sansa was feeling. Slowly she was
starting to panic.
“What are you talking about?” she asked in a shaky voice and for the first time
Arya looked sorry for her.
“You’ve been sick for almost eight days now with high fever. You’ve been
delirious, falling in and out of sleep for days, until Maester Luwin managed to
bring your fever down late last night. Everyone has been really worried about
you. Mother never left your side and she was the one feeding and bathing you.
Three days ago, she found blood on your smallclothes and your sheets and she
told me you flowered in your sleep. She left not too long ago and only because
your fever was down and she was exhausted herself. I told her I would keep an
eye on you and call her, if anything happened,” Arya explained and Sansa looked
at her with what she thought was probably a terrified expression on her face.
As Arya’s words started to sink in, she found herself searching for proof that
everything her sister had just told her wasn’t another one of Arya’s elaborate
pranks and surely enough she felt first the wetness between her legs and then
the soft pain in her lower belly. But before she could react to any of it, Arya
started talking again.
“Jon has been dying to see how you’re doing, but Mother forbade him from coming
to your chambers. She said it wouldn’t be proper, before you two are married,
but we all know it’s because she’s holding a grudge. So, Jon has been broodier
than usual. She was really distraught over your sickness, so Father let it
slide, but imagine Mother’s irritation, when all you kept asking for in your
delirious state was Jon,” her sister said and she looked amused.
“I did?” Sansa asked, taken aback, as she felt her face heating up from
embarrassment.
“Oh, yeah. You must have taken this whole marriage thing a lot more seriously
than I thought,” Arya said snickering, but then paused, her expression quickly
changing into a serious one.
“Look, Jon explained that you’re just trying to protect him and that’s why you
agreed. He told me about your deal to have a marriage just in name for the sake
of the family. So, I guess what I’m trying to tell you is thank you for helping
our brother, even if you’ve never been close to him. I deeply apologize for my
behavior the other night. You’re giving up all your dreams of having a family
of your own for this and I know it’s not fair or easy, but it’s also the right
thing to do. So, thank you. I never thought you cared much about Jon, but
listening to you worrying about him even in your sleep and through your fever
has left me no doubt that you do. All joking aside, you’re a really good
person, Sansa,” Arya finished and smiled kindly at her.
Sansa had no idea how she was supposed to feel about Arya’s apology. She was
certainly pleased that Arya had said such sweet words and looked so sincere
while apologizing, but she couldn’t help but also feel a little pained at the
mention of her giving up her dreams and having a fruitless and loveless
marriage with Jon. She had never agreed to that, but it was obviously how Jon
had taken it and perhaps it was the only reason he had agreed to it in the
first place. Sansa knew it would be hard, but she had expressed her hope to him
that one day they could be more to each other and learn to love each other as
husband and wife. But this was obviously something Jon was not interested in
pursuing and this outright rejection of his of even the possibility of their
future together left her feeling a little heartbroken.
“Thank you for your apology. It means a lot to me that you believe in me,”
Sansa said and tried to hide the bitterness from her voice and her smile.
“Would you mind getting Mother? She’ll want to know that I’m awake. I don’t
want her worrying more than she already has.”
“Of course, but first I need to give you something,” Arya told her and then
reached for the piece she had been working on earlier, while she had been
waiting for her to wake up.
As she brought it forward, Sansa’s eyes widened at what she saw. It was
definitely Arya’s best work and the fact that her little sister had made it for
her made it even more special. A beautiful winter rose was embroidered on a
light blue handkerchief with her name Sansawritten on the bottom with carefully
embroidered white letters.
“Thank you, Arya! It’s beautiful!” she said and she meant it.
“You’re welcome and by the way it’s my gift for your wedding, so don’t expect
anything else,” Arya said and smiled as her cheeks started getting a shade of
red. Sansa could see right through her and she knew that with her comment Arya
was only trying to hide her embarrassment. Her little sister wasn’t used to
compliments and the realization made Sansa feel bad about all the times she had
made fun of her with Jeyne Poole.
“Well, I love it! I promise to keep it always with me!” she promised and Arya’s
smile grew.
“I’ll go get Mother,” she said and right when she was about to open the door,
she turned around to look at her.
“I should probably tell Jon too, so he can stop brooding already,” she added
and then with one last smile, she was out of the room.
***** Direwolves *****
Chapter Notes
     This is the second part of the previous chapter with some missing
     scenes! I hope it clears some things up for those of you who
     commented and I really hope you enjoy it! ;)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                      Jon
“Jon, I’m so cold,” Sansa moaned, tightening her grip around his neck.
“We’re almost there, sweetling. Just hold on,” Jon reassured her, bringing her
as close to his body as he could, without missing his step, while he carried
her back to her chambers.
The sun was high enough in the sky that people had started going about their
day in the courtyard and inside the castle, and Jon could not help but feel
irritated by the questioning looks and whispers coming their way, the moment he
was seen holding Sansa in his arms so early in the morning.
Everyone knew about the betrothal by now and they all seemed too interested in
gossiping about them to actually do anything to help them. On the whole way
back, the small direwolves kept whining around him, but he only kept his eyes
on the one he was planning to claim as his own, which was walking in a fast
pace in front of him, until finally they reached the entrance.
There he was met by Vayon Poole’s shocked face, staring from him to Sansa and
back again, without ever noticing the wolves, before the older man spoke.
“My… my lord! What happened? Is your betrothed well?” he asked, as if he didn’t
know who Sansa was besides his betrothed. He hadn’t even called her a lady like
she deserved, just his betrothed, and that only helped to worsen Jon’s mood.
“No, she’s very cold and I need to get her back to her chambers immediately.
Send someone to help her change in warmer clothes. I’ll handle lighting a fire
myself,” Jon said and made a move to step inside, but was still blocked by
Winterfell’s steward, who kept staring at him with his mouth hanging open.
“That will be all. Now move aside,” Jon said, glaring at him, until the other
man finally moved, stuttering an apology, and Jon started for Sansa’s chambers,
all direwolves in tow.
When he reached her bedchambers, he slowly opened the door with the hand he had
on Sansa’s back, carefully balancing her weight on his other arm and then
entered. He had never been in Sansa’s chambers before and he wasn’t really
surprised to find that it was three times the size of his own bedchambers,
decorated with beautiful furniture. Her bed looked huge in the center of the
room, covered in fine linens and furs, its headboard touching the eastern wall,
while the bed’s floral canopy in different shades of light grey and blue that
was matching her eyes hung over its entirety, following the bedposts to the
floor.
He hadn’t realized he had paused, taking everything in, while he stood between
the door and the bed, until the white pup brought him back to the present with
a high pitched howl, staring at him with its red eyes, as if it was commanding
him to snap out of it and take care of Sansa already, who had meanwhile fallen
asleep in his arms.
Giving a nod to the little direwolf he moved to the bed and tried to place her
on it and cover her with the furs without waking her, in order to go to the
hearth and start a fire to warm the room. Before he had a chance to move,
however, Sansa opened her eyes and grabbed his arm with her right hand.
“Don’t leave me, Jon. I’m so cold,” she muttered and Jon felt his face going as
red as her hair, his gaze moving from Sansa to the door, which had been left
wide open.
“I’m going to light a fire,” he said, turning his gaze back to her, and hoped
it would be enough explanation for her to let him go.
“No, please. Stay with me,” she whined, looking up at him with pleading eyes
and Jon, sparing one last glance towards the door, climbed on the bed with her,
fully dressed, boots and all, only now realizing he hadn’t even removed hers.
Bringing the furs up to her chin, he let her curl up to him, her body flush
against his side and started moving his hand once more up and down her back to
warm her up. To his surprise, the white wolf along with a light grey one tried
and managed to climb onto the bed as well, moving and lying over the furs on
Sansa’s feet, as if they were also trying to keep her warm.
“You’re so kind. I never knew how much. I only knew what I saw from your
interactions with Arya. You’re always kind and sweet with her,” she said in a
low voice, bringing his attention back to her after a few moments of deafening
silence. Her face was now buried in his neck and the only thing Jon could do
was lie stiffly next to her.
“I could have been that way with you too. But you never let me anywhere near
you,” he replied and he knew he sounded bitter.
“I was so stupid,” Sansa agreed and let a humorless laugh escape her lips.
“I want to change that, Jon. I want us to be happy together,” she went on and
Jon finally moved to look at her.
“I think you have a fever,” he told her, only half joking because of the things
she was saying, and once again placed his lips on her forehead, which was sure
enough burning up.
“I mean it. I want to love you and for you to love me. I want to have a family
with you,” she said and pressed her forehead more firmly against his lips and
placed her delicate hand over his heart on his chest.
“Sansa…” Jon said and his voice sounded like he wanted to protest.
“Jon…” Sansa said back, mimicking the tone of his voice and moved to look up at
him.
For just a moment, their eyes met and their breaths mingled. Jon felt as if the
world stopped moving around him and as if he wasn’t really there, but was only
watching the scene play out in front of him, unable to do anything himself. And
then, Sansa moved her gaze to his lips and, without another word, pressed her
own lips against his and kissed him.
                                      ˜*˜
Jon snapped himself out of the memory, moving his eyes back to Ghost’s, who was
looking at him like he already knew what Jon had been thinking about, a moment
ago. For the few days the direwolves had been with them, they had proved
themselves to be very intelligent.
His lord father had been against keeping them at first, but after Jon’s
explanation of how he had come upon them and how they had led him to find
Sansa, he had convinced him they were a gift from the Gods –with the direwolf
being the Starks’ sigil and all- and Ned Stark had finally caved in, agreeing
that his children were meant to have them and thinking that they could be used
for their protection.
The white one, Ghost –as Jon had named him, because of the way he looked and
carried himself silently about Winterfell- had taken a liking to Jon the same
way Jon had taken a liking to him and they had been inseparable ever since.
Likewise, the rest of the direwolves had done the same thing, choosing a master
of their own among the rest of the Stark children -who had all been excited to
meet them and have them- following them around everywhere they went.
Robb had named his Grey Wind, due to the color of his fur and the way he looked
when he ran. Arya’s was Nymeria –named after a warrior-queen from Dorne who had
lived a thousand years ago- Bran’s was Summer and Rickon’s was Shaggydog. There
was only one wolf left unnamed, currently lying asleep in his lap and this one
was meant for Sansa.
Arya and Sansa’s wolves were the only ones that were female, which was fitting,
and while Arya’s was playful and was always running around in the mud with her
litter mates -much like Arya herself and their brothers- Sansa’s wolf, with her
light grey fur, was always proper and looked too delicate to run in the mud
with the rest. Instead, she was always standing by Jon’s side or lying on his
lap, much like now.
Jon didn’t mind taking care of her along with Ghost. In fact, he was glad that
the little pup had showed a preference to him. Arya had argued and had wanted
to keep her for herself, until Sansa was well enough to have her, but the wolf
had had a mind of her own.
During the first few days, the wolf had looked depressed and the times hadn’t
been few when Jon had found her whining outside Sansa’s chambers, scratching on
the door, asking to be let inside. But Lady Stark had forbidden it. She didn’t
want the wolf anywhere near her sick daughter and so Jon had taken it upon
himself to take care of her and keep her company, since much like the wolf, he
was the only one who wasn’t welcome in Sansa’s bedchambers.
Thankfully, Arya and the rest were always telling him how she was doing after
their visits, but Jon was always left feeling helpless, as if it was his
responsibility to be taking care of her and he wasn’t even allowed to see her.
So, instead of taking care of Sansa, he was taking care of her wolf for her and
every night when he lay awake in his bed with Sansa’s wolf and Ghost, he
thought of that day he had been lying in bed with her, while the same two
wolves had been warming her feet.
                                      ˜*˜
“What is this? Get out of my daughter’s bed, you bastard!” came Lady Stark’s
furious voice, making Jon pull his lips away from Sansa’s to look terrified at
her lady mother.
Sansa was too feverish to care about what was happening or to feel any shame,
but Jon had gone from red to completely white, looking for words, but coming up
blank.
“What in seven hells are you waiting for? GET OUT!” she screamed and before Jon
had a chance to react, she was forcibly dragging him out of the bed and away
from her daughter, until he finally landed on the floor.
“What is the meaning of this? Why are you yelling?” Jon heard his father say,
the moment he appeared at the entrance, Vayon Poole and Maester Luwin at his
side, taking in the scene in front of them. Jon was just looking at his father
helplessly from his spot on the floor.
“Our daughter is sick and your bastard nephew was having his way with her,”
Lady Stark yelled again, looking venomously at Jon, who at the sound of her
words wished to crawl under a rock and die.
“No, I wasn’t. I-”
“I found him in her bed, under the covers, kissing her. He couldn’t even wait
for their wedding night. He decided to defile her while she is sick, unable to
react.”
Sansa had fallen asleep again, due to her high fever, so Jon was left by
himself, and for the life of him, couldn’t find the right words to explain the
situation and defend himself, until finally his father took pity on him and
told him to follow him to his solar.
Jon got up and like a wet dog followed Ned outside, when Lady Stark’s angry
voice was heard again.
“What are these creatures? Take them out of here! Take them out of my sight!”
she yelled and soon enough the little direwolves were running to him.
“I can explain,” Jon said, after his father raised a brow at him, only just now
noticing the pups.
“You’d better,” Ned said and without another word, nodded his head in the
direction of his solar for Jon to follow.
                                      ˜*˜
“JON! JON!” Arya yelled, running towards him, this time pulling him out of a
horrible memory. The way she yelled his name made his heart start racing. Had
something happened to Sansa?
“Is Sansa alright?” were the first words out of his mouth, getting up from his
seat and placing Sansa’s direwolf on the ground, next to Ghost, the moment Arya
reached him.
“Yeah! She just woke up and for the first time in days she’s acting like
herself. Her fever is down and we even talked for a while,” Arya said excited
and Jon felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest.
“Can I see her?” he asked and immediately chastised himself for his stupidity.
Sansa was awake, but she wasn’t well enough to leave her bedchambers yet, which
could only mean that there was still no way for him to see her.
“Sorry… Mother is with her,” his little sister explained and looked at him
apologetically.
“Look, Jon. I know you feel responsible because you’re the one who found her,
but there’s no need for you to worry anymore. She’s alright. You need to start
taking care of yourself. Those dark circles under your eyes are huge. The pups
aren’t the only ones that need care and attention,” Arya said, looking at him
concerned and pointing at the two direwolves by his feet.
“I’m fine. I just haven’t been sleeping very well,” Jon assured her, as he
brought his hand to his face to rub his tired eyes.
“Are you worried about what Father said? About the pressure he’s getting from
the other lords?” she asked and to Jon’s surprise she didn’t seem to have a
problem with what she was insinuating.
“He might change his mind,” was the only thing he said.
“That’s unlikely. Robert Baratheon is winning the war against the Lannisters
and Father says we need to secure our alliances. They’re not convinced by the
betrothal. They’re pressuring him for the wedding and for you to take the Stark
name like he explained was going to happen.”
“I don’t understand what the big deal is. Surely they can understand that Sansa
is too young to marry anyone. The betrothal will have to be enough for now.”
“That’s what Mother said. I heard her fighting with Father the other day, after
Maester Luwin said Sansa was out of danger and that her fever would break.
Mother thought that given the announcement of the betrothal, the wedding could
wait for a few years. But Father said Sansa is a woman flowered and there’s no
reason for that. And now that she is awake and well, he will want to speed it
up,” Arya said and paused, before she looked at him uncertainly.
“Did you mean it when you said that nothing was going to change after the
wedding?”
Jon just looked at her blankly.
“Why are you asking me this?” he asked instead of answering.
“Well, let me see. You’ve been worried sick about Sansa, even more so than
Robb, Sansa has been calling your name in her sleep and Mother is unusually
hostile towards you. Has something happened between you two?”
                                      ˜*˜
“We’ll talk about the pups later. What I want to know now is what happened
between you and Sansa,” his father said, staring at him, his hands fidgeting
where they rested on his knees, after he took a seat next to the hearth of his
solar, with Jon sitting opposite him.
“Father, I-”
“Was Catelyn telling the truth, when she said you and Sansa were kissing in her
bed?” he asked, interrupting him and Jon felt his cheeks grow hot.
“It wasn’t like that. I mean… yes, we did kiss and I guess I was in her bed
with her, but it’s really not what it sounds like.”
“And what was it like, then?”
“I found Sansa in the Godswood, following the sound of a howling wolf. That’s
where I found the pups too,” Jon said and paused, trying to get the events in
order.
“Go on…”
“Sansa was sleeping under the heart tree and as I got to her and tried to wake
her up, I realized she was freezing. When she came to her senses, she said she
had come to the Godswood to pray and that she had fallen asleep. From that very
moment I knew she was going to get sick. She was really weak to walk, so I
carried her back to the castle and told the steward to send someone to help
Sansa change into warmer clothes, while I lit up a fire for her in the room’s
hearth.”
“And what happened next? How did you get into bed with her?” Ned asked, raising
a brow, but he didn’t seem or sound angry.
“I put her on the bed and covered her with the furs, but when I was about to
leave and start the fire, she grabbed my arm and complained about being cold. I
told her about the fire, but she didn’t want me to go. She asked me to hold her
to keep her warm,” Jon said and paused again, unable to meet his father’s eyes.
“I know I shouldn’t have, but I panicked, I wasn’t thinking. She was cold and
she was pleading me to stay, so I got under the furs with her and tried to warm
her up. She was delirious and she kept saying about how she wanted for us to be
happy and have a real marriage. I knew she had a fever, so I didn’t really pay
any mind in her words, but then she leaned in and kissed me and caught me off
guard. I didn’t even have time to reciprocate the kiss or pull away, before
Lady Stark barged into her chambers and started yelling at me,” he finished and
then finally raised his gaze to look into Ned’s eyes that were giving nothing
away.
“I’m so sorry, Father. I know it was wrong of me to get into bed with her, but
I really didn’t mean to dishonor her or do anything that Lady Stark accused me
of. She’s my sister and I love her.”
“My sweet Jon, I never thought the accusations were true. But to be honest, I
am a little disappointed.”
“I understand, Father,” Jon said and lowered his eyes to the ground.
“No, you really don’t,” Ned said, smiling sadly at him, as Jon looked at him
again confused.
“It’s been nothing but an honor for me to be your father all these years and
you can’t even begin to imagine how happy it makes me that you still think me
and call me as such, but sometimes I wish you didn’t have to. I wish that you
could have grown up knowing who your parents were, knowing who your mother was.
I wish you could have had her by your side all these years, because I know it
in my heart that Lyanna would have been an amazing mother to you. I know how
much it always hurt you that you didn’t have a mother. She was someone I loved
deeply and every time I look at you, I see her in your eyes and your face and
your heart,” his father told him and Jon noticed that he had tears in his eyes.
He had never seen him crying before.
“Even though Robb is my real son and I couldn’t be prouder of him than I am,
it’ s you I mostly see myself in. Robb often reminds me of my older brother,
Brandon, strong headed and reckless at times, but you are so much like me. You
are honorable and kind to a fault, but also strong and smart. You’re everything
a father would wish for his daughter to find in a husband. I wish you could
have grown up as cousins and that you could see her the way she wants you to
see her. I know I forced you two to wed, but I wish you could learn to love
each other differently in the future. To give my Sansa a babe, the way she
always dreamed of. I don’t want you to pull yourself away from her, because
you’re afraid of how we’ll react. If you want to really be with her, there’s
nothing that would make me happier, but maybe not just yet. I don’t want to
upset Catelyn more. But when she gets better, go talk to her. Ask her how she
really feels and what she wants and if it is something that you want too, then
go for it. I want my children to be happy. I don’t want you to end up miserable
together. If you can find love, under these horrible circumstances, then please
follow your hearts.”
“Thank you, Father. Your words mean the world to me. But I don’t know if I can
be that for Sansa. She deserves someone much better than me. Someone who can
give her everything you just said. I love her. I really do, but I don’t know if
I’ll ever be able to see her as something more than my sister. All I can
promise though is that I’ll try to keep her safe and happy as much as I can,”
Jon finished and shared another sad smile with Ned. Now he understood that the
only reason his father was disappointed was because he knew Jon and Sansa would
never find the love they deserved.
“This is exactly why there will never be anyone better for her than you,” Ned
said and Jon averted his eyes to look at the ground again.
“Now, about the pups…”
                                      ˜*˜
“I meant it, Arya. Nothing has happened and nothing will change,” Jon reassured
his little sister, as the talk with his lord father came to his mind. Arya just
smiled at him then, looking relieved at his words.
“Come on then. Let’s tell the others about Sansa,” she said and grabbed his
hand, dragging him towards the Great Hall, where she knew they’d find the rest
of their siblings.
Chapter End Notes
     Thank you all very much for your support! And for those of you who
     have subscribed, I want, after thanking you again, to also tell you
     that I don't really have an updating schedule. I just write when I'm
     inspired and have time. Which means I might sometimes update pretty
     regularly (even two or three times within a week) and some other
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     Thank you all for reading!
***** Theon *****
Chapter Notes
     Thank you all for reading! Let me know of your thoughts in the
     comments below! :)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                     Sansa
The sun of the early afternoon felt welcome on her face as Sansa, with Jeyne
Poole at her side, stepped outside of the castle for the first time in days.
Her friend was chatting excitedly about some new gossip she had heard in the
kitchens that very morning, walking beside her with her arm linked through hers
and making sure never to let Sansa out of her sight, per her mother’s command.
Although not too long ago, Sansa would have jumped in the conversation, all she
did now was listen uninterested as Jeyne kept talking, letting her thoughts
wander to the only thing that plagued her mind these days. Jon and their
impending union.
Two days ago, her lord father had announced to the whole family that the
wedding would take place in a fortnight and all Sansa had wanted ever since was
to spend some time alone with her betrothed and talk about it, but so far it
had been impossible to even thank him for taking care of her after finding her
in the Godswood. From the moment she had opened her eyes and Arya had gone to
fetch their mother, Catelyn had been fussing over her, never letting her out of
her sight, and so the only times she had seen Jon had been during their meals,
in everyone’s presence -where her mother hadn’t even let her sit beside him,
forcing them to only exchange glances- and during Jon’s sparring sessions with
Robb and Theon.
Every afternoon Sansa would watch them from her window as they sparred,
admiring Jon’s skills while he practiced against her brother and Theon. Often
enough, one of the other two would notice her watching them and they would try
to impress her. But Jon never had to try. He was always the best and every time
he would catch her looking at him, he would just give her a soft smile and
return back to fighting, while Sansa went back to sulking, due to her boredom.
Her mother had not let her go outside for ten days now, afraid that she would
get sick again and Sansa, not wanting to worry her more than she already had,
had regretfully obeyed, staying mostly in her chambers, until finally, that
morning, Maester Luwin had deemed it safe for her to leave the warmth of the
castle. And unbeknownst to her friend, Sansa had every intention to seize this
opportunity to seek out Jon, away from Catelyn’s watchful eyes.
“… So what do you think?” Sansa was startled by her friend’s question, having
missed everything else Jeyne had just said. Sensing Sansa’s confusion, the
steward’s daughter gave her a bizarre look, as she stopped walking, bringing
Sansa to a halt as well.
“About what?” Sansa asked, avoiding her friend’s eyes.
“About Theon,” Jeyne said as if that was supposed to clear things up for her.
Well, it probably should, if Sansa had spent a moment to listen to anything
Jeyne had just told her, instead of thinking where she would find Jon the whole
time.
“What about Theon?”
“Do you think he likes me?” Jeyne asked, as Sansa stared blankly at her.
“I… I don’t know. What makes you think he likes you? Has he shown any
interest?”
“Haven’t you been listening? Where is your mind?” Jeyne asked, but then,
noticing Sansa’s reddening face, let the matter go.
“Well, as I was saying, Theon has been talking to me more so than usual. In the
past, he would only wave at me or say hello to me, but the last few days he’s
been more talkative.”
“And what do you talk about?”
“Well, mostly he’s been asking me about you and how you are doing, but I think
he’s just doing it, because he wants to get close to me. I mean the normal
thing would have been for him to ask Robb or the rest of your siblings about
your health, not me. He’s much closer to them than he is to me and even though
I’m your best friend, your siblings know about your health as much as I do. I
have the feeling that he’s trying to find reasons to talk to me and I think
it’s kind of sweet,” Jeyne said and the only thing Sansa could think was how
not sweet Theon always seemed to her. The brothel stories she had heard from
Robb alone were enough to destroy any positive thoughts she might have had for
the Ironborn.
“I don’t know what to tell you. Just be careful. You know how Theon usually is.
He’s always after some girl. I don’t want you to get hurt,” Sansa told her
sincerely, but regretted it as she watched her friend’s face fall.
“Well, you could at least be a little more supportive,” Jeyne said angrily.
“I didn’t mean to sound unsupportive. It’s just I’ve never thought Theon to be
the romantic type. I didn’t even know you liked Theon. Honestly, I just always
thought you liked Robb,” Sansa defended herself.
“Robb isn’t going to ever marry the steward’s daughter, Sansa. You know it and
I know it. So whatever crush I might have had on Robb is unimportant. Not
everyone is like you. We don’t all get to marry princes.”
“Neither of us chose this, Jeyne. You know we’re doing it out of necessity. And
besides, Jon is not a prince.”
“He might as well be. Targaryen blood runs through his veins and he’s the
trueborn son of prince Rhaegar.”
“Jon is a Stark.”
“Please, Sansa. It’s me you’re talking to. I know the only reason you want to
marry Jon is because of who his father was. You never liked Jon. You never even
acknowledged his presence until his parentage was revealed and then as soon as
you were able, you tried to seduce him and get him into your bed.”
“What are you talking about?” Sansa asked and looked scandalized.
“The maids in the kitchens gossip about more than just themselves,” Jeyne said
smirking and Sansa could do nothing but gape at her.
“What have they been saying?” she asked with a trembling voice.
“Oh nothing, just that you got naked for him in the Godswood to seduce him and
that’s why you got sick. Everyone saw you when you got back. They said you were
clinging to him and then Father said that your mother caught you two in bed and
that’s why Jon was forbidden from seeing you. The girls in the kitchens say
that the reason Lord Eddard wants you two to marry so soon is because Jon has
already taken your maidenhead and has dishonored you.”
“What? None of this is true,” Sansa yelled angrily at her.
“Jon and I never-”
“Oh, I know. Although, I do trust what Father said. But you know you’re going
to have to do more than that to get Jon to want you. I heard him talking to
Robb and Theon the other day about how he only sees you as his sister and I
believe him. He even flirted with me on the day of your betrothal. Perhaps Jon
isn’t the romantic type either. Well, at least when it comes to you.”
“Leave. I’ll continue the walk on my own,” Sansa told her furiously, as she
tried not to cry.
“Lady Catelyn said I shouldn’t let you-”
“I don’t care what Mother said. I told you to leave me alone. Go find someone
to gossip in the kitchens. It seems it’s the only thing you’re good at,” Sansa
finally said and turned her back to what she thought of as her former friend
and then headed towards the stables, hoping that she would find Jon there.
                                      ˜*˜
Sansa had been right to think Jon would be at the stables and the moment she
saw him, she let a sigh of relief escape her lips. Jon was brushing his horse’s
coat with his back turned to her, while Hodor and another stable boy were
cleaning the stalls in the back. She would have preferred for them to be alone
for this, but she knew that this was as good as it was going to get and after
her talk with Jeyne, she was in dire need to speak with him.
After she gathered the courage to approach him, she started walking towards
Jon, feeling her heart beating wildly inside her chest from nervousness, when
suddenly and before she had a chance to announce her presence, two pups came
running to her, jumping on her dress and making her shout in surprise.
Immediately, Jon turned and looked at her in alarm, but as soon as he took in
the scene, he just laughed in relief and ran to her side.
“Hey hey, calm down you two,” he said as he knelt down before her, trying to
keep the two pups away from her dress.
“Sorry about that. They’re just excited to see you,” Jon told her then with a
smile that lit up his whole face and Sansa, taking her eyes from Jon’s, looked
at the two little pups that were squirming in his arms, trying to get to her.
At once she realized that those were two of the direwolves she had been told
appeared when she had gotten sick. She hadn’t had any time yet to meet them and
play with them, since she spent most of her time inside her bedchambers, but
she knew that one of the two wolves that were with Jon was supposed to be hers.
“That’s alright. They’re really cute,” she found herself saying and smiling
back at Jon, for a moment forgetting about all the horrible things Jeyne had
told her.
“Are you feeling alright? They finally let you out of your chambers?” he asked,
as he smiled softly at her. He seemed happy to be talking to her and that kept
a smile firmly on her face as well.
“Yes, Maester Luwin said it was safe for me to come outside.”
“I’m glad you’re well. I would have come to see you, but-”
“I know. Mother,” she interrupted him and Jon gave her a nod.
“Would you like to finally meet your wolf?” he asked her then, changing the
subject, as his smile grew bigger. The light grey wolf had left his arms and
was now trying to get her attention, rubbing its fur against her dress and her
boots.
“Is this one mine?” she asked, kneeling to pet the pup.
“Aye… It’s a female, but we haven’t given her a name yet. We thought the
appropriate thing would be for you to name her, given we all named ours.”
“She’s so beautiful,” she said as she continued petting the wolf.
“What is she like?” she asked then, turning her gaze back to Jon, who was still
kneeling next to her, petting his own wolf.
“She’s the sweetest of them all, always looking for someone -mostly me- to pet
her. She’s not as playful as the rest, but she’s very loving. She mostly likes
to lie down, stay clean and look pretty. That much I’m certain of. She’s much
like you in that regard, to be honest,” he told her and Sansa noticed his
cheeks blushing.
“Oh, she’s pretty alright. Aren’t you? Are you a sweet little lady? I think
that’s what I’ll call you. Lady,” she concluded and petted the direwolf’s head
once more.
“What’s the name of your direwolf?” she asked then, turning her attention back
to Jon and the albino wolf in his arms.
“Ghost,” he answered, looking proudly at the wolf.
“I think it suits him,” she said and smiled at him again.
“Thank you for taking care of Lady, while I was sick.”
“It’s the least I could do, since your lady mother wouldn’t let me anywhere
near you. I want you to know that I wanted to be there for you. I really did,”
he told her and his expression got serious again, as did Sansa’s.
“I know, it’s alright,” the redhead reassured him and paused, while she kept
petting Lady.
“Jon, can I ask you a question?” Sansa needed to know how the rumors about her
and Jon had started. She didn’t remember anything herself, but she didn’t take
Vayon Poole for one to gossip lies either and if any of the things Jeyne had
claimed had happened was true, she needed to know it.
“Sure,” Jon answered, but sounded uncertain, as they both stood up and let the
wolves go and play with each other.
“It’s about the day you found me in the Godswood,” she clarified and at the
sound of her words Jon looked uneasy.
“What about it?”
“What happened after you found me and took me to my chambers? I’ve been trying
to remember, but everything is still fuzzy.”
“Why do you ask? Do you really not remember?” Jon asked and Jeyne’s words
invaded her mind once more.
“Did something happen between us?” she asked him back instead of answering,
determined to find out the truth, and if Jon’s furious blush was anything to go
by, she was certain that something definitely had.
“There was a misunderstanding,” Jon started explaining, while he rubbed
uncomfortably the back of his neck.
“Alright?”
“You were sick and you were really cold, so I got into your bed with you to
help you get warm and then… you kissed me and Lady Stark saw us,” he admitted
and Sansa let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.
“Is that all?” she asked and she could not help how relieved she sounded, as
she noticed Jon’s annoyance at her reaction.
“Isn’t that enough?” he asked and Sansa smirked at him.
“Trust me, it could be worse.”
“Sansa, ever since that happened Lady Stark has been glaring daggers at me. I
haven’t stopped feeling humiliated by how she dragged me out of your bed in
front of everyone.”
“Everyone?”
“Well, not everyone, but there were people who witnessed it.”
“Jon, we’ll be married in less than a fortnight. You’re going to be my husband
and share my bed every night. I’m sorry about what Mother did. She was out of
line, but you need to let this unfortunate moment go,” Sansa said in an attempt
to make him relax, but somehow she felt that her words had made him panic even
more and the pleasant atmosphere from before was now gone.
“It’s not just Lady Stark, Sansa. This whole thing between us is really
confusing for me,” he said and closed his eyes at his admission.
“It’s confusing for me too, but with time I know we’ll get over how odd this
feels.”
“I don’t know, if I ever will,” Jon told her, looking at the ground and Sansa
didn’t know what to say to that.
“Did you kiss me back?” she found herself asking then and Jon turned his gaze
back to her.
“What?”
“You said I kissed you. Did you kiss me back? Did you enjoy our kiss?” she
asked and looked at him with a hopeful expression on her face.
“No, I did not. I didn’t like it either,” he answered and Sansa felt like he
had just punched her in the face.
“Why not?” she whispered and her voice trembled.
“You were delirious and you didn’t know what you were doing. If you were in
your right mind, you wouldn’t have tried to kiss me and I wouldn’t have been
yelled at because of it.”
“So you didn’t like it because of what Mother did afterwards?”
“No, it’s not that. Look, I know we’ll be married in a few days, but I’m not
ready to be that intimate with you.”
“It was just a kiss.”
“I know that, but still… I told you, this whole thing feels too strange to me,”
Jon said as he struggled to make her see things from his perspective.
“I understand. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Like you said I was
delirious and didn’t know what I was doing. I’d probably kiss Theon in that
state,” she said, choosing to jest, so that he wouldn’t see that her heart had
dropped to her feet at his words. At that moment she knew that Jeyne had been
right. Jon would never see her the way she hoped he would.
“Theon? What does Theon have to do with any of this?” Jon asked and Sansa was
surprised by how irritated he sounded.
“Nothing. I was just jesting.”
“Has he tried anything with you?”
“What? Jon, no,” she answered, but Jon didn’t look convinced and clenched his
jaw.
“Then why did you say his name of all people?”
“Who else did you want me to say? Robb? I have enough problems with one brother
turned cousin as it is,” she tried to joke again, but Jon’s unimpressed look
shut her up.
“I want you to stay away from him.”
“From Theon? I don’t really interact with him all that much.”
“Good. You should keep it that way,” he said and he looked serious.
“I… I think I’ll go inside now. I’ll see you at supper,” Sansa said then,
ending their conversation, and Jon nodded. While she was walking away from him,
she started thinking about his odd reaction, but then when she felt Lady
joining her for her walk back to the castle, her mind drifted off to other
things.
                                      ˜*˜
                                      Jon
“Hey, where is your mind? You’re making this way too easy, Snow,” Robb teased
him, as he helped him up from the ground. They had been sparring for a while
now and Jon could not seem to do anything right.
“Let’s go again,” Jon said, getting into position.
“No, I’m tired and you’re not even trying. Is everything alright?” his brother
asked and then left him to go sit on a bench at the edge of the courtyard.
After a moment, Jon joined him as well, looking defeated.
“Everything is fine,” he answered as they sat next to each other.
“Aye, I can tell,” Robb said and smirked at him.
“Go on, tell me what’s wrong,” Robb insisted and bumped his shoulder into Jon’s
playfully.
“It’s nothing. It’s stupid.”
“Well, let me be the judge of that.”
“Do you… do you think Sansa likes Theon?” Jon asked and Robb just stared at him
for a while, before he burst out laughing.
“What? What are you talking about? How did you even get that idea?”
“I knew I shouldn’t tell you anything.”
“No, please. I’m sorry I laughed. Tell me why you ask,” Robb told him, trying
to keep a straight face, as Jon glared at him.
“I saw her today and we talked about the kiss.”
“And where did Theon fit in that conversation?” Robb asked him confused.
“Sansa agreed that she was delirious when she kissed me -in fact she didn’t
even remember it- and she told me that she could just as easily have kissed
Theon instead,” Jon said and he couldn’t mask how annoyed he was by the fact.
“Is that all?”
“What do you mean is that all? Everyone has got to stop saying that to me. I’m
not overreacting,” Jon defended himself and sounded angry.
“Clearly,” Robb said and smirked again.
“You don’t need to worry about it. There’s nothing there. Besides, I don’t even
know why you care. You don’t even like Sansa in that way. It was just the other
day that you told us you only see her as your sister. Even if she liked Theon,
I don’t see why you should have a problem with it.”
“I know what I said and I do only see her as my sister, but that doesn’t mean I
want Theon to get any ideas that he can try anything with her. In less than a
fortnight Sansa is going to be my wife.”
“So, you’re planning to make her your wife for real?”
“What? No, Robb. You know what I mean.”
“So, she’s not allowed to ever have an actual relationship then,” Robb said and
Jon could hear the accusation in his brother’s voice.
“When she agreed to marry me, she knew what she was giving up. I asked her to
reconsider. I told her that we would find another way, but she didn’t want to
hear any of that. She still wanted to marry me, so when we do, I expect her to
stay faithful to me, the same way I’m going to stay faithful to her.”
“But she didn’t. Not really. Sansa is not even fourteen. She didn’t really know
what she was giving up. She’s a young girl with no experiences. Maybe you knew
what you were giving up, but not her. You were even thinking of joining the
Night’s Watch before everything happened, which means you never really had a
problem with living a celibate life. But Sansa always dreamed of having a
husband and babes and now she is sacrificing that dream for you, because she
loves you and cares about what happens to you. Would it really be that
terrible, if she could find someone to love her the way a lover does?”
“Yes it would. She’s going to be my wife.”
“I never took you for the possessive type.”
“I’m not possessive,” Jon argued, but when he met Robb’s eyes he stopped
talking and averted his gaze to the ground. After that, they remained silent
for what seemed like forever, until Jon finally heard Robb sigh deeply.
“What’s the matter?” he asked him.
“I’m just thinking whether I should tell you or not.”
“Tell me what?” Jon asked, his interest peaked.
“I promised her that I wouldn’t tell you, but I don’t see how else I’m going to
save you from acting like an arse to her,” Robb said and Jon waited expectantly
for his brother to continue, without uttering a word.
“Sansa is in love with you,” Robb blurted out.
“That’s why she agreed to marry you. She did it, because she loves you,” he
went on, as Jon kept looking at him with wide eyes.
“Are you jesting?”
“No, Jon. I’m not. I’m breaking her trust here by telling you this. So, now you
can understand why your fears about Theon sounded so ridiculous to me earlier.”
“How… I… I don’t-”
“Trust me, I know. I’ve been trying to stomach this ever since she told me, but
then she got sick and I thought she was going to die and I found myself not
caring anymore. I only wished for her to get well, even if it meant that I
would start seeing you kissing and holding hands or whatever,” Robb said and
sounded defeated at his admission.
“The only reason I’m telling you this is because I don’t want you to hurt her.
I know you don’t see her that way, but Sansa does, so I’m asking you to be
gentle with her and stop worrying about imaginary things.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything and especially to her. I don’t want her to know that I told
you,” Robb warned him and then got up from his seat.
“Supper will be served soon. We’d better get cleaned up,” he added and after
resting his hand on Jon’s shoulder for a moment, he walked away, leaving Jon
frozen in place and alone with his thoughts.
She is in love with me. Sansa is in love with me, he kept thinking and suddenly
all he wanted to do was to hit himself for his stupidity. It all made sense
now. Everything she had told him in her delirious state. It all made sense. He
should have known better. He should have understood.
Chapter End Notes
     Just to avoid confusion, in this fic everyone is supposed to be
     approximately the same age they were meant to be during the first
     season of GoT. I'm not following the book ages of the characters.
***** What Is The Truth? *****
Chapter Notes
     Thanks for reading, everyone!
     Let me know what you think! xoxo
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                     Sansa
It was late and almost everyone had gathered at the Great Hall for supper.
Earlier that day the servants had started preparing the Hall for the guests
that were soon expected to arrive for the wedding, bringing in more tables and
even more candles to light up the space, as if this was an ordinary feast at
Winterfell. But all Sansa could think, while her gaze travelled through the
room, was how life changing it was going to be for her and how their very
survival was dependent on how it was going to go.
Even though the wedding was still days away -a little less than a fortnight-
they had already received ravens informing them of most of the Northern lords
arrivals, since her father had sent them ravens before he had actually told the
rest of the family. Representatives of both House Cerwyn and House Glover were
expected to arrive in three to four days, while the rest Houses of the North,
as well as the Tullys from the Riverlands –her lady mother’s House- would come
within the next five to ten days.
Their acceptance to attend the wedding was a good first step, but the time they
would spend as their guests would determine how united the North truly was and
how loyal the other Houses were to House Stark. For that reason, every last
person within the castle was trying their best to have everything ready for
everyone’s arrival and all day they had all looked on edge, preparing the
castle’s chambers, sweeping and cleaning furiously, as if a cleaner and more
comfortable room would change the lords’ minds about Jon and the rest of the
Starks.
When Sansa had entered the Hall, Jeyne had already been sitting at her usual
spot and Sansa had tried hard not to glare at her, as she had moved past her
and had taken a seat next to her little brother, Bran, who in turn was sitting
next to Arya and Rickon. Jeyne, on her part, had tried to act like she didn’t
care, but her mother’s gaze between the two of them hadn’t gone unnoticed to
Sansa. Her mother had most definitely figured out that there was something
wrong between them and Sansa was certain that she was planning to have a talk
with her after supper.
A few moments later, and while Sansa was listening to her younger siblings
fighting over whose direwolf was the fastest, Robb entered the Hall with Jon at
his side. Sansa expected Robb to come and sit next to her in the empty seat
between her and Theon, but when her brother and Jon’s gaze found her, they both
stopped in their tracks and looked momentarily towards the Ironborn. Robb then
exchanged a look with Jon, while murmuring something close to his ear and with
a pat on her betrothed’s back went to sit next to Jory Cassel who was
conversing with their father. Jon, on the other hand, after exchanging another
awkward look with Robb and looking uncertainly towards her mother, came and
took the seat next to her.
“My Lady,” he said to her and smiled, the moment he sat down. Sansa found
herself unable to say anything and started blushing as she felt all voices die
down around them. She was aware that everyone was looking at them, but soon she
forced herself to relax and actually respond to him.
“Jon! How did the training go?” she asked and when she looked around her again,
everyone acted like they hadn’t just been staring at them and started talking
again.
“You didn’t watch?” he asked with a smile.
“No, I was at the library with Septa and Arya,” she answered with a faint blush
on her cheeks. She knew that Jon was aware of her often watching them spar, but
she felt a little embarrassed when he actually asked her about it.
“It went well,” he answered.
“Liar, Robb told me that he beat you every time,” came suddenly Bran’s voice,
surprising her, as both Arya and Rickon started laughing on Bran’s other side.
“He was just lucky,” Jon defended himself, looking a little annoyed. Sansa
could not help the smile that spread on her face at his reaction.
“He said you fell on the ground three times,” Bran added and the other two
broke into a fit of laughter once more.
“I just let him see what it feels like to win from time to time,” Jon said as
he watched their siblings laugh, trying to suppress a smile of his own.
“When I get older I’ll beat you too,” came Rickon’s voice then.
“Of course you will. I’m sure you’ll be much better than Robb,” Jon told their
little brother and all of them started laughing again. Sansa chanced a look
towards Robb then and she saw him watching them, but by the confused expression
on his face she knew he couldn’t have heard them and that made her giggle as
well. When she looked back at Jon, she found him staring at her and she felt
unable to look away from his eyes.
“Has Theon ever beaten you?” Arya asked then, pulling them out of their trance.
“Yeah, right! He wishes,” Jon answered, before he heard a snort coming from
Theon and turned to look at him.
“Am I wrong? Have you ever beaten me?” he asked and Sansa felt herself tense at
the tone of his voice, remembering their earlier conversation and how Jon had
asked her to stay away from the Ironborn, when his name had come up. Did Jon
really dislike Theon that much or had he actually gotten a little jealous when
she had tried to jest about him? She’d never know.
Jon had never seemed to get along with Theon. Even when she hadn’t been paying
much attention to either of them, she had noticed that they were always
fighting over Robb and who was actually his favorite. Well, Theon was the one
fighting, because the answer had always been obvious to both Jon and Sansa, as
well as to everyone else. Robb and Jon had been as thick as thieves ever since
they were mere babes and the bond between the two had never weakened. Jon was
clearly Robb’s best friend and favorite sibling out of all of them, even if
Arya often complained that Robb always took Sansa’s side on everything because
he loved her the most. Sansa, however, knew that it was different. She was a
girl and she could never have the same bond Jon had with Robb. But it was the
love he had for her she had relied on for Robb’s eventual acceptance and
forgiveness, when she had lied to him about her feelings for Jon.
“You think I can’t beat you?” Theon asked irritated.
“I don’t think. I know you can’t,” Jon answered smugly.
“Why? Because you’re a dragon now? Is that it?” Theon asked a little loudly and
Sansa looked around to find everyone watching the two of them.
“No, that’s not it. I’ve always been who I am now and if you couldn’t beat me
before, when I was much smaller than you, you definitely won’t beat me now that
we’re equal in strength, because I’m a much better swordsman than you are and
you know it.”
“Is that what you think? That you’re a better swordsman? How about we take it
outside and see who the better swordsman really is?” Theon retorted, as he got
up from his seat, glaring at Jon. Sansa looked around her anxiously for help
then, but the moment she met Robb’s eyes, he looked at her like she was the one
who should do something. So, when she felt Jon rising beside her, without
thinking, she put both her hands on his arm and kept him firmly in his place,
until Jon turned to look at her surprised.
“Shall we eat? The food is getting cold,” she said sweetly, with her hands
still holding onto his arm. She saw Jon swallow a lump in his throat, but then
he quickly nodded, without ever sparing another glance towards Theon, who was
now standing awkwardly next to him.
“Theon?” she asked, turning her gaze to the Ironborn, only to notice that his
cheeks had turned red, probably from embarrassment.
“My Lady,” was the only thing he said in return, before he too sat back down on
his seat and everyone else resumed eating and talking, acting as if nothing had
happened. Jeyne was the only one who kept staring or more accurately glaring at
her, but Sansa wouldn’t let that upset her. She was feeling oddly proud of
herself at that moment.
She never thought that she had the power to make them actually listen to her,
but more importantly she felt happy of the fact that Jon didn’t seem to
question her hold on his arm, but let her touch him until she was the one who
decided to let go. She now vaguely remembered the time when he had snatched his
hand out of her own and had refused to meet her eyes or talk to her, the night
her lord father had announced their betrothal. Although that was not that long
ago, their relationship was clearly already starting to change and evolve and
that gave her great courage for the future.
                                      ˜*˜
After supper and after both their parents had retreated in their father’s solar
to check on the castle’s books of account with Vayon Poole and Maester Luwin,
probably to estimate what the wedding was going to cost them, all the children
found themselves sitting by the fire that was still burning in the Great Hall’s
hearth and playing with their wolves.
Sansa was sitting on the floor between her two younger brothers with Lady on
her lap, while Arya was sitting next to Jon across from them, with Robb and
Theon on her other side. It was only Jeyne that was missing. Usually Jeyne
would sit by Sansa’s side and they would both ignore everyone else, while they
talked amongst themselves. But tonight was different. Sansa’s glare at the end
of supper had made it clear to Jeyne that she wasn’t welcome to join them as
usual and the steward’s daughter with an irritated huff of breath had left with
the rest, while the servants had started clearing the table.
“Where’s Jeyne?” came suddenly Robb’s voice, pulling her from her thoughts. Of
course it’d be Robb the one to notice. Even though Jeyne had been right to say
that someone like Robb would never marry someone like her, Sansa knew that her
brother liked Jeyne and thought she was pretty. She often found him looking at
her.
“I don’t know. I’m not her keeper,” Sansa said without realizing how irritated
she sounded. Everyone then turned to look at her puzzled, and it felt like the
direwolves did the exact same thing.
“Really? You two are always attached at the hip,” Arya commented, raising an
eyebrow at Sansa.
“Did something happen?” Robb asked again and Sansa’s irritation grew.
“No. Nothing happened. Why are you asking me all these questions? I just don’t
know where she is,” Sansa defended herself and immediately she knew from the
way everyone kept looking at her that no one believed her. Feeling heat
coloring her cheeks, she turned her gaze back down to Lady and started petting
her in an attempt to put an end to the conversation.
“I just thought it’d be nice for her to join us. It’s been a while since we all
hung out together, with you being sick and all,” Robb said, but Sansa kept
ignoring him and looking at Lady, until suddenly Jon’s wolf came in her view as
he tried to climb on her lap as well. Sansa, looking into the wolf’s red eyes,
felt like the reason he had come to her was because he wanted to comfort her.
“Look, Ghost likes Sansa,” came Rickon’s excited voice from beside her then, as
he tried to reach the albino wolf and pet him. The animal, however, recoiled
from his touch and then made a whining noise, turning his eyes back to Sansa,
like he was asking her to make room on her lap for him. Sansa immediately
obliged and both animals curled happily next to each other.
“He doesn’t like Sansa, you silly. He just wants to play with Lady. The two of
them have been inseparable, because Jon was the one looking after both of
them,” Arya said from her spot next to Jon, holding onto her own wolf, Nymeria.
Sansa could feel Jon’s eyes on her, but she tried to avoid them. Her sister
sounded annoyed by the fact and Sansa realized that it was probably because
Ghost had never done anything like that with her and the thought gave her some
satisfaction.
“You know he hasn’t let any of us pet him, right? And now he just goes to Sansa
willingly like that?” Bran was the next one to speak.
“Maybe he likes Sansa, because she’s Jon’s girl,” Rickon said and Sansa heard
Robb snort at the comment. When she raised her eyes to look at him, she also
saw Jon glaring daggers at their brother, while Robb tried to hide his snicker
behind his hand.
“Ew… Sansa is not Jon’s girl, you idiot. This marriage is a sham. They’re
brother and sister,” Arya cut him off, sounding disgusted.
“Stop calling me names. I’ll tell Mother… And you’re wrong! They’ll be married
and they’ll be sleeping together, like Mother and Father. Maester Luwin told me
so,” Rickon argued back and he sounded a lot more irritated than Arya did.
“Perhaps we should all go to bed. It’s getting late,” Jon finally spoke for the
first time and Sansa found herself staring into his eyes while he did the same.
“Oh no, please. I enjoy this conversation way too much,” Theon said, bringing
both of them out of their trance, as he started laughing, only to receive a
glare from everyone in the room.
“Rickon is right! I too heard Vayon Poole talking with two servant girls about
moving Jon’s things to Sansa’s chambers for the wedding. After the wedding
they’ll be sleeping in her bedchambers,” Bran came to his little brother’s
defense. Rickon was still very young to understand everything that was
happening, but Sansa was curious to know how Bran felt about all of this. She
hadn’t had a chance to talk to him yet and she didn’t know if Jon had either.
“That’s because there will be people here and they can’t know that it’s a
farce. They need to believe it’s real or they won’t support us. When they
leave, Jon will move back to his own chambers. Sansa and Jon don’t love each
other like that,” Arya was the one to talk again, as if Jon and Sansa weren’t
in the room to defend themselves. And at the sound of her words, Sansa felt her
heart beat faster inside her chest, as she remembered her lie to Robb.
“No no… you’re lying! Father told me that he and Mother were the same and then
they had Robb and they fell in love and had all of us,” Rickon insisted and
Sansa felt her face turning red again, as her eyes locked with Robb’s and then
with Jon’s. Jon who was looking at her, as if somehow he knew.
“He said that if they were married to each other, none of them would have to
move away and we could all stay here,” Rickon yelled at his sister and Sansa
immediately realized the root of the problem.
Sansa was a woman flowered now and Rickon had heard her many times talking with
Jeyne about wanting to marry a lord in the south and finally leave Winterfell.
And if she knew about Jon’s previous plans of joining the Night’s Watch, she
was certain that so did Rickon. In the little boy’s mind, this marriage was the
only way to keep them both here and prevent them from abandoning him.
“When Sansa has Jon’s babe, she will love him too and so will Jon,” her little
brother added and Arya looked ready to say something in return, but Rickon’s
direwolf, Shaggydog, growled at her and she shut her mouth. Sansa could do
nothing more but sit there frozen, the mention of the babe making her
uncomfortable. If only Rickon was right. But she would never have one. Jon
would never see her like that to give her one.
“That’s enough! All of you to bed,” Jon shouted then, getting up from the
floor. Sansa could see how upset the conversation had made him, so she pulled
herself together and decided to help him.
“Jon is right! Mother will be angry with us, if we don’t go to bed soon.
Besides, I’m already tired and I want to sleep. I’m not used to staying up this
late. I’m still a little weak.”
“Sansa, will you put me to bed?” Rickon asked her sweetly then, but Robb
answered before she could say anything.
“I will. You heard her. She’s tired,” he said and then turned to Jon.
“Jon, why don’t you escort Sansa back to her chambers?”
“I…” Jon started to say, losing his words, when Theon cut him off.
“I can do that,” he said, taking a step closer, ready to be of service, until
suddenly Jon’s hand moved to his chest, pushing him backwards.
“I will,” he said and his voice left no room for arguments.
Sansa was startled once more by his behavior, but said nothing as Jon came to
her side and offered his arm for her to hold onto and she awkwardly accepted.
If their siblings looked at them strangely when she did, she didn’t want to
know, so she avoided to look at everyone’s faces, and especially Robb’s, as
they left the Hall together, their two wolves following behind them.  
                                      ˜*˜
                                      Jon
The way to Sansa’s chambers seemed to be the longest of Jon’s life.  Sansa’s
arm was burning, linked through his own and all he could think about with every
step they took together was Rickon’s words of them having a babe and Robb’s
words, telling him that Sansa was already in love with him.
When they reached Sansa’s door, Sansa removed her arm hesitantly from his own
and stared at him with her Tully blue eyes.
“So, this is me,” she said awkwardly, biting on her lower lip.
“Goodnight, Jon,” she added, when Jon told her nothing in return and moved to
open her chamber’s door.
“Wait, Sansa… I… I need to talk to you,” he blurted out and immediately
regretted it when she turned to look at him again.
“Can’t it wait ‘till tomorrow?” she asked, but Jon realized right then that it
really couldn’t. If they didn’t talk about this now, he was certainly going to
lose his mind during the night. Robb had asked him not to say anything, but Jon
couldn’t keep living wondering about this. He needed to hear her say it
herself.
“No, it really can’t. Can I come inside for a moment?” he asked and the moment
the words came out of his mouth, he chastised himself for his stupidity. Of
course he couldn’t go into Sansa’s bedchambers and especially now that it was
night.
“Or we could just talk right here,” he hurried to say.
“No, let’s go inside. We’ll be more comfortable,” she answered and all Jon
could think as he followed her inside, along with Ghost and Lady, was that if
Lady Stark were to catch them again, this time she would certainly cut his head
off.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” she asked as soon as she closed the door
and sat at the edge of her bed. Jon couldn’t find himself to sit anywhere. He
was too nervous to sit, so he just stood in front of her.
“Why did you agree to marry me?” he asked and Sansa stared at him.
“Why are you asking me this? We’ve talked about this,” she replied and averted
her gaze to look at the floor.
“I know we have, but due to some recent events, I’ve come to believe that maybe
you lied to me.”
“Jon, I don’t know what you’re talking about and I’m really tired-”
“Robb told me. Is it true?” he asked her, as she turned her terrified eyes back
to him.
“What did Robb tell you?” she asked and Jon could see it in her eyes that Sansa
knew exactly what he was talking about. So, it was true then.
“He said that you agreed to this wedding, because you were already in love with
me.”
A few moments of silence passed and Sansa was left gaping at him the whole
time. She tried to open and close her mouth a few times, but words wouldn’t
come out of her lips. It was all the answer he needed, so he decided to go.
Robb had told him the truth and Jon didn’t know how he was supposed to feel
about it and looking at her in this state of distress wasn’t helping either of
them.
“I should go! Goodnight, Sansa,” he said then, but as he turned to leave, he
suddenly felt her hand on his arm.
“Wait, Jon. I’m sorry… I… you don’t understand-” Sansa tried to explain, but
Jon cut her off again.
“I understand just fine. I just- I need some time to process this. I don’t know
how I feel about this. Why… how-”
“I lied to him!” she said and stopped his mumbling. Jon just stared at her.
“He wasn’t going to let us do this. You know I’m right! So, I thought that if
he didn’t think I was sacrificing myself, he’d let us do it. Everything I’ve
told you is the truth. I only lied to Robb… Jon, you can’t tell him. He’ll get
mad at me and he’ll try to sabotage this again,” she pleaded and Jon couldn’t
understand for the life of him why she wanted this marriage to happen so badly.
“Maybe he should,” Jon said in return and she looked horrified.
“Robb opened my eyes today to some other things that I hadn’t thought before.
You haven’t thought this through. You don’t understand what you’re giving up.”
“I know what I’m giving up and I don’t care,” she said, looking down, her hand
still clutching his arm.
“Do you, really? ‘Cause I saw how you looked, when Rickon talked about us
having a babe. It’s something you want. It’s something you’ve always wanted and
you can’t have it with me.”
“Please, Jon. Don’t do this… Why are we having this conversation again? Nothing
has changed. I want to marry you and you agreed. You can’t take it back. We’re
already betrothed. Everyone knows and everyone is coming for the wedding. You
will humiliate me, if you do this. Please-” she said and Jon could see tears in
her eyes.
“Why are you crying?” he asked and took her face in his hands.
“I’m not crying,” she said stubbornly as a tear rolled down her cheek. Jon
simply smiled at her and wiped the tear away with his thumb.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asked her again.
“I’m sure,” Sansa replied staring into his eyes once more.
“Even if it means you’ll never have a lover? Never have a babe?” he asked and
he saw a flicker of pain cross her eyes at the mention of a babe, but she
stubbornly said yes again.
“Then I promise you I’ll never do anything to humiliate you and I won’t tell
Robb either,” he promised, before he gathered her in his arms and kissed her
forehead.
“Thank you, Jon,” she answered, as she nestled her head in the crook of his
neck, while Jon hugged her closer. He was committed now. There was no turning
back. He had promised her. He only wished he knew, if everything she had just
told him was true or if she was simply lying to herself about what she really
wanted.
“…I want to love you and for you to love me. I want to have a family with you,”
Sansa’s words flooded his mind, but he quickly pushed them back and buried the
memory.  
Chapter End Notes
     Just to clarify for those of you wondering, nothing will actually
     happen between Sansa and Theon. I'm just using him to get Jon
     jealous. Theon's feelings, whatever they might be, don't matter.
     There is a reason there is only a Jon/Sansa tag. There will be people
     that will try to get between them in future chapters, but none of
     them will succeed and neither Sansa nor Jon will be unfaithful to the
     other. As for other couples, the reason I'm not tagging them is
     because they'll be seen only through Sansa and Jon's povs and they're
     secondary and not as important. This is all about Jon and Sansa.
***** The Wedding *****
Chapter Notes
     Here's another chapter! I hope you enjoy! Thanks to everyone reading
     and commenting! :-)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                     Sansa
Sansa was staring at her wedding dress through the looking glass, running her
fingers over the fine details she and her mother had carefully embroidered on
the fabric. It was the finest thing she had ever worn, made out of pure white
silk. Far better than anything she had ever dreamed of wearing at her wedding,
even when she had been dreaming of marrying a prince. The best gift she had
ever gotten from her mother or anyone else for that matter.
Her mother had come to her -when Sansa had still been recovering from her
illness, a day after her lord father had announced the date of the wedding-
carrying a large piece of fabric. Catelyn had had tears in her eyes, she
remembered, as she had sat down next to her bed and then, she had told her that
even though she had wanted the day of her first daughter’s wedding to happen
under different circumstances and for it to be a joyous event instead of the
farce this was going to be, she had still wanted her to look as beautiful as
possible. So, afterwards, she had begun making her the gown, until Sansa had
been well enough to join her and help her finish it.
Sansa knew that her mother was never going to accept this marriage, but she
would always cherish in her heart the moments they had spent together making
this dress. She understood how hard this was for everyone and most of all how
difficult this was going to be for her and Jon and she often had her doubts
about it. What if this was a huge mistake? Could they ever make this work? What
if it was all for nothing?
“This is the only way… I’ve lived and seen every outcome. You have to marry him
to save everyone,” a voice whispered in her mind, putting a stop to her nervous
thinking. She had no idea where she had heard that from. It felt as if it was
an old dream she had once had, but the details were blurry. She never
remembered to whom the voice belonged to or when she had first heard it, but
every time the voice had come to her mind, it had given her peace and renewed
courage, making her believe in her decision. From the moment her father had
asked her to marry Jon, to the time she had lied to Robb to stop him from
ruining everything, to the last day she had had to convince Jon not to back
out, and finally now. Maybe it was her conscience trying to help her come to
terms with what she had already decided, or perhaps the Old Gods were guiding
her to the right direction. She’d never know. But she trusted her instincts and
now they were telling her that marrying Jon was the right thing to do.
A knock on the door was what pulled her out of her inner rambling.
“Come in,” she called and then she watched as the door slowly opened to reveal
her brother.
“Seven Gods! You look beautiful, Sansa,” Robb said as he took her in and Sansa
gave him a smile, knowing his reaction was a genuine one. She could only hope
Jon shared his opinion.
She was aware of how beautiful her gown was, but when she had tried to make the
rest of her look appealing, she had had a hard time deciding what the better
way to wear her hair would be. In the end, she had decided to just let it down,
remembering a time she had heard Jon talking with Robb and Theon and telling
them how he disliked the way the girls wore their hair in the south and how he
preferred them long and free to the touch. Even though she was certain that he
had never touched a girl’s hair before, and she wasn’t sure where Jon had even
seen these strange hairstyles he had described. Maybe in one of their father’s
trips to White Harbor that he and Robb had attended and that she had never been
allowed to make herself, as it had been deemed dangerous for a girl of her age.
“It’s time. Are you ready?” he asked, pulling her once more from her thoughts.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she answered and then took his offered arm.
“If you want, we can still stop this. You don’t have to go through with this.”
“Robb…” she said and the tone of her voice made him give her a bitter smile.
“I know, you love him. It’s just me who desperately wants to stop this
madness,” he admitted and sighed.
“Robb, it’s going to be alright,” she said, the voice running through her mind
again, giving her hope and courage.
“Just know that I’m here for you, if you change your mind. I’ll grab you and
we’ll run,” he offered and it made them both giggle.
“I know. I’m always counting on you. You’re my knight in shining armor. But I’m
doing this for Jon. I can’t just abandon him. I know you’re worried about him
too and you want him to be safe.”
“I do,” Robb admitted, lowering his eyes to the ground.
“Then let’s go! Everyone is waiting for us.”
“Let’s go,” Robb agreed reluctantly as he guided her out of her chambers. The
next time she would walk through this door, it would be as a married woman.
                                      ˜*˜
                                      Jon
Jon felt as if his heart was going to burst out of his chest, while he waited
under the heart tree for Sansa to arrive and the ceremony to begin. As the
night sky loomed ominous above him, he could sense everyone’s gaze on him and
hear the whispering. Even if he couldn’t, he remembered how they had all
regarded him with distrust from the moment they had arrived and had called him
a bastard dragon behind his back and sometimes even to his face, when his
father had not been not around to hear them. How they had thought Ned was
making a mistake to give away his precious daughter to him and how some of them
had begged him to reconsider and give Jon over to Robert, and marry Sansa off
to one of their own, to strengthen their alliance.
“Jon, relax. Stop brooding so much. You’re about to get married,” came uncle
Benjen’s voice from beside him. At least he was glad his uncle was here and he
would stay by his side until the ceremony was over. Even though he was a
brother of the Night’s Watch, they had all agreed that he should be the one to
officiate the wedding on Jon’s side, as his closest relative, since Ned would
be the one to give Sansa away.
“Oh, here she comes,” Benjen said suddenly, and Jon, lifting his eyes off the
ground for the first time in a while, watched as Sansa, letting go of Robb’s
arm -who had escorted her here from her chambers- was given a cloak by Lady
Stark and then linked her arm through their father’s, before they both started
heading their way, passing between the lit up lanterns on either side of them.
From the very moment he saw her, she took his breath away by how beautiful she
looked and Jon couldn’t help but stare. This was a moment he had dreamed of
many times. To someday wed a beautiful woman in front of Winterfell’s heart
tree, with his family as witnesses. But Sansa was part of that family and Jon
didn’t know how to feel and what to make of the fact he got excited when he saw
her. Sansa had never been a part of his dream and yet she was the best thing he
could have ever asked for. If only she wasn’t his sister.
The wolves had not been allowed in the Godswood during the ceremony, but Jon
could now hear them clearly howling through the night’s silence, as if they
knew what was about to happen and they were mourning or celebrating- he
couldn’t tell. When Sansa was finally in front of him, however, all the noise
stopped. The whispering, the howling- it was as if they were the only two
people left in the Godswood, as they stared into each other’s eyes.
“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” his uncle’s voice pulled him out of
his trance.
“Sansa, of House Stark, comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered,
trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the Gods. Who comes to
claim her?” his father answered and then turned his eyes to him.
“Me, Jon Snow,” Jon began to answer, after an uncomfortable pause, what he and
his father had agreed upon for him to say, his name rolling awkwardly off his
tongue.
“…her cousin by blood, always and forever loyal to House Stark. I claim her.
Who gives her?”
“Eddard of House Stark, her father, the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the
North,” his father replied once more, never taking his eyes off him.
“Lady Sansa, will you take this man?” uncle Benjen asked then and Jon moved his
eyes back to Sansa’s.
“I take this man,” Sansa replied with certainty, staring into his eyes, until
Ned took her hand and placed it in Jon’s. Then, with joined hands, they both
knelt under the heart tree, right where Jon had found her lying all those days
ago, with the direwolf pups all around her. Right under the weirwood’s carved
face, where they now both bowed their heads in submission and silent prayer,
asking for the Gods’ blessing, but in Jon’s case, asking mostly for their
forgiveness.
“Jon Snow, here in front of the Gods, do you agree to take your bride’s name,
that of House Stark, renouncing all previous titles and names you might have
had, passing the name Stark to all of your future children?” uncle Benjen asked
then, while he and Sansa were still kneeling in front of the weirwood tree.
“I agree,” Jon answered, fighting the lump that was stuck in his throat. He had
waited all his life to be called a Stark and he couldn’t believe the way by
which he had actually accomplished it. He didn’t know, if he should be feeling
happy or ashamed.
“Then, you may both rise as Sansa and Jon Stark and then you may bring your
bride under your protection,” Benjen finished and they both rose, Sansa’s hand
still clutching his, until Arya and Bran came to his side, offering him the
cloak he was meant to place on his bride’s shoulders.
Sansa, removing her hand from his own, chanced a look in his eyes and then
carefully undid the cloak Lady Catelyn had given her, the moment she and Robb
had arrived. The cloak was made of white wool and white fur and it was
embroidered with two small sigils on either side of the fabric. On the outside,
a small grey direwolf for her father’s House and on the inside, the sigil of
House Tully, that of her lady mother’s. In its place -and after taking it from
his siblings’ hands- Jon fastened a white wool cloak bordered in grey fur, with
a big grey direwolf embroidered at the center. He too was a Stark now and he
could give her the cloak of the House he chose to be a part of. He wasn’t a
Snow anymore, and he most certainly wasn’t a Targaryen.
                                      ˜*˜
Jon downed his twelfth cup of wine as he watched unimpressed people dancing
about the hall, laughing and drinking. They all acted like this was an ordinary
feast, so he had to try his best to match their high spirits. The wine and ale
were affluent and the music and singing loud. It seemed as if everyone had
forgotten why all of this was happening, why they were here. The danger they
were all in. The King’s words nothing but empty threats. Although they weren’t.
Not really. Those threats were nothing close to empty. If King Robert didn’t
have the Lannisters to deal with, they’d be already facing the consequences.
But the Lannisters weren’t going to last forever as the thing that kept him
from coming North with all his forces to demand Jon’s head on a spike. The
lions were losing the war and sooner rather than later, his family would have
to deal with whatever that meant for them. His family. His wife. He was a Stark
too now and this was the saddest day of his pathetic life.
As he poured more wine from the nearest pitcher, he felt a strong pat on the
back and almost dropped his cup on the table.
“Hey,” a voice said. Jon turned his head slowly and saw Robb watching him
through blurry eyes. His brother had a strange look on his face.
“Hey, yourself,” Jon replied, slurring the words from all the drinking, before
he brought the cup back to his lips.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Robb asked, trying to mask his anger.
Drunk or not, however, Jon knew him too well. Robb was clearly furious with
him.
“I’m just trying to have a good time, Robb. Besides, this is my wedding feast.
I think I’m entitled to drink as much as I want. I’m only enjoying myself,” he
said and downed another gulp of wine.
“If you want to enjoy yourself, go dance with your wife instead of drinking
Winterfell’s whole wine supply. You’ve been here by yourself all night and she
has danced with everyone but you. We’re trying to make a good impression on the
other Houses, trying to make you look good in their eyes, so that they support
you, and you’re just sitting here, getting drunk,” Robb told him in an
accusatory tone and Jon dragging his tired and blurry eyes back to where people
were dancing in the middle of the Great Hall, found Sansa changing dance
partners and starting a dance with Theon.
“I think she’s doing fine. She has Theon,” Jon commented as he pointed with the
hand still holding the cup towards the couple dancing in the distance.
“No good would come from me dancing anyway. I’m as clumsy as they come,” he
said and then finished his cup with one long sip.
“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Robb retorted through gritted teeth.
“Yeah, well… Today has been nothing if not embarrassing for me. A few more
drinks can’t hurt.”
“What about Sansa? You’re embarrassing her too. Don’t you care about that?”
“Why would I care about embarrassing Sansa? I’m sure she feels just as
humiliated without my help. She just got wed to her bastard brother in front of
the entire North. If she wasn’t as uptight as she is, she would be up here
drinking with me.”
“How dare you? After everything I told you!” Robb yelled furiously. Luckily the
voices and the music were too loud to get anyone’s attention. Not that he
really cared in the state he was in. Besides, they were all probably as drunk
as he was.
“Oh, yeah… the secret about Sansa’s feelings for me,” Jon said and then snorted
in laughter as he brought his hand to his face and supported his head, leaning
heavily on the table.
“This is a laughing matter to you?” Robb asked enraged and Jon only laughed
harder.
“I suppose now that we’re already husband and wife, it doesn’t really matter,
if you know or not,” he said and looked again for the pitcher, but when he
tried to take it, Robb pulled it out of his reach.
“What are you talking about?” his brother asked and Jon rolled his eyes at him.
“Sansa lied to you, Robb. She told me so herself. She was just trying to get
you off our backs. She doesn’t love me. I’m only the half-brother she always
liked to call me.”
“She said that to you? She said she lied?” Robb asked, his anger suddenly
replaced with shock.
“Yeah! Pretty much. Now, can I have my pitcher back please?” Jon asked,
slurring his words again, but Robb, instead of giving it back, filled both
their cups and then downed his in one big gulp, making Jon laugh, before the
latter took his own cup to drink.
“To my beautiful bride,” he said, raising his cup in the air, still laughing,
before taking a long sip of his drink as well. Although no one had seemed to be
paying them any attention until now, his action caused a few heads to turn
their way and then, a fat man Jon thought was Wyman Manderly, Lord of White
Harbor, stood from his seat to make a speech.
“Lord Stark,” he called, looking towards his father, who had just been dancing
with Lady Catelyn, not too far from where Sansa and Theon were. Slowly, the
dancing stopped and the music and voices died down, as everyone turned to look
at the man.
“It’s been a lovely ceremony and a lovely feast. But I think it’s time we moved
to the next part of the night. The bedding,” Lord Manderly said and the
whispering started again. Jon could feel the blood drain from his face and when
his eyes found Sansa, he saw that she mirrored his reaction, with how pale she
looked and with her fists balled at her sides. Jon could feel his own knuckles
turning white from the way he was clutching the tablecloth.
“We understand how strange this situation is, with your daughter and nephew
having been raised as half-siblings until recently, if we are to believe that
no other member of your family knew anything about this, and I’m sure Jon is a
good lad and all, worthy of our protection,” he went on, while all the members
of his family were now looking uncomfortably at each other.
“…But naming him a Stark in the Godswood and avoiding to bring up his Targaryen
name during the ceremony doesn’t make it so. House Manderly has been loyal to
House Stark for hundreds of years and this is the only reason we accepted to
bring our men into this war against the King himself. Another war started
because of a Targaryen, like the one that cost hundreds of our kin’s lives. I
know Jon is innocent of the crimes of his father, but if we are all going to
act as if it is a Stark we’re protecting here and we’re risking our lives for
and not a Targaryen, we need to have our assurances. We need to know that this
wedding is not a sham and it’s going to be a fruitful one. We need to know
where this boy’s loyalties truly lie. Who he truly considers his family.”
“Lord Manderly, forgive me, but I don’t understand why you would doubt that.
Jon has never known another family, but our own. Even without the wedding, he
shares a deep bond with every member of this family and Stark blood runs
through his veins,” his father said then, interrupting him.
“Word has reached our shores of a Targaryen Queen in the East, sister to the
late Prince Rhaegar, raising an army to come to Westeros. So, forgive me, if
I’m not ready to trust Jon here not to betray us and join his aunt in her
conquering war, if she asks him to, in the name of his real father, once again
bringing havoc to the North.”
“I think it’s safe to say, my lord, we, as well as Jon, already have our hands
full getting ready to fight one war. If you think that Jon will decide to
suddenly abandon his family for a woman he doesn’t even know, you’re mistaken.
Jon is a Stark through and through. From his looks to the integrity of his
character and if you knew him half as well as I do, you'd know I’m telling you
the truth.”
“I’m not trying to judge Jon’s integrity here, but the fact remains that he and
your daughter haven’t even exchanged a glance from the moment they were wed and
one thing I’ve learned through my many years of experience is that a man’s real
family is the one he chooses. The woman he marries and the children she bears
him. I’m not expecting your daughter to get immediately with child, especially
now with all the dangers your family is facing, but I will not be tricked into
believing in a fake marriage, arranged only to serve your purposes. So, I think
it’s in everyone’s best interest that we see this marriage consummated. And if
it please you, my lord, we’ll allow you to choose who the witnesses are,” Lord
Manderly finished and words of agreement were heard from every corner of the
Great Hall.
Just like that, the Starks had fallen into their own trap for believing they
could get through this marriage unscathed. Worst of all, it wasn’t Manderly’s
words, the fury Jon could feel radiating off of Robb at his side or the anger
reflected on all the faces of his family and those loyal to the Starks that
made his heart race, even in his drunken state. But it was Sansa’s scared eyes,
when her gaze locked with his what made him realize that all the promises and
rules the two of them had set for each other, when they had agreed to take this
step, were about to be broken, and he couldn’t for the life of him find a way
out of this.
Chapter End Notes
     Okay, I know it doesn't really make sense for Jon to get his name
     like that, but just roll with it and don't question it too much. This
     is a work of fiction based on a fictional world. ;-)
     P.S. I've used phrases from both the books and the show for the
     ceremony scene!
***** The Bedding *****
Chapter Notes
     Hello, lovely readers! :-)
     Thank you all for reading, subscribing and reviewing!
     I'm really curious to know what you think of this one!
     P.S. I'm terrible at writing smut, so I apologize in advance! ;-)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                     Sansa
Sansa’s chambers had never been brighter with light than they were this night.
Candles were lit everywhere around and for a while the only thing Sansa could
hear was the wax melting and falling on the candlesticks, as the fire crackled
in the hearth. As soon as the sound of low murmurs could be heard, however, -
when everyone started filing into the room, taking their seats close to the
foot of her bed- the redhead tried to focus only on the sound of her own heart,
which was beating faster than ever before, blocking out everything else, as she
stared at the bed’s canopy.
These chambers that had always been her personal sanctuary were now the last
place she wanted to be. Although she wasn’t completely naked, wearing a night
rail under the covers, her hands were grasping desperately at the furs covering
her body, in an attempt to protect her modesty for as long as possible, as she
felt everyone’s eyes on her. The eyes of people she never wanted to look back
into. Faces she wished she would one day forget.
But even when she closed her eyes, she could still see them clearly. All four
of them. Wyman Manderly, the lord of White Harbor and the man that had pretty
much forced them into the situation. Rickard Karstark, the lord of Karhold and
head of all the Karstarks, who were kin to the Starks and shared with them the
blood of the First Men. Maege Mormont, lady of Bear Island and younger sister
to the lord commander of the Night’s Watch, and finally, Theon Greyjoy; heir to
the Iron Islands and her father’s ward. A member of her own family.
Even though, Lord Manderly had suggested that her father could choose whom he
wanted as witnesses to the bedding, in the end, both he and lord Karstark had
demanded to be a part of the witnesses. Their justification being that they
couldn’t be certain that Ned Stark wouldn’t trick them by choosing only members
of his own family and people only loyal to him, who could easily lie to the
rest about the bedding being completed. So, her father had been left to choose
the other two witnesses and right now Sansa didn’t know what was worse. Having
three strangers staring at her as Jon bedded her for the first time? Or having
Theon inside the room, a person she was bound to see every day for as long as
they all still lived in Winterfell? Although Sansa knew that the only reason
Theon was there was because her father felt more comfortable knowing there was
someone he could trust with them, she still couldn’t help but feel really
strange about his presence there. At least it wasn’t her father or Robb, right?
Why would anyone want a member of their own family witness something like this?
These questions kept running through her mind as she waited, but the moment she
heard the door to her chambers being suddenly thrown open, all thinking
stopped. For the first time in a while she took her eyes from the bed’s canopy
and cowardly looked towards her chamber’s entrance only to see a half-naked and
inebriated Jon Snow being pushed inside the room by squealing and laughing
girls, as if this was any other bedding ceremony. The way he looked was pitiful
in Sansa’s opinion, but she couldn’t really blame him for reaching this state
after the day they had had. In fact, she was rather jealous of how drunk he was
and she wished she herself was half as intoxicated to get through what was
about to happen.
Earlier that day, kneeling under the weirwood tree, she had accepted her fate
that Jon Snow, now Jon Stark, would be the only man she would ever call her
husband and so, she had prayed to the gods to help them someday look past their
troubles and manage to have the normal marriage and life she had always dreamed
of. Nevertheless, being hopeful for their future didn’t mean she was ready for
that life to start so abruptly and especially under these circumstances, and
watching the way Jon had been drinking all night was proof enough that he
wasn’t the least ready for it either.
She had hoped that with time she and Jon could learn to look at each other
differently and that eventually, if they were both comfortable with it, they
could consider taking their marriage to the next level, to a more physical
level that would grant them children and make them a real family. But having to
do so today, when they were both still seeing each other more or less as
siblings, and under the scrutinizing eyes of the witnesses, made her tremble
with fear and anxiousness.  
As Jon started walking closer to the bed with a terrified look on his face that
Sansa knew only mirrored her own, the door was shut behind him, making him
flinch and turn one last time to look at it, before his gaze traveled
momentarily to the other four people in the room. Noticing them for the first
time made Jon hesitate and freeze in his spot, but then he reluctantly turned
his blurry gaze back to her and for a while they just stood there staring at
each other, making no move to close the distance between one another. The good
thing was that for their part, the lords and lady, as well as Theon, had the
decency to stay silent and not pressure them to begin, but Sansa knew it was
only a matter of time before the two lords lost their patience and so, she
decided that she should be the one to make the first move.
With trembling hands she uncovered her body from the furs she had just been
holding onto for dear life, sitting upright on the bed, and motioned for Jon to
join her. Shutting his eyes tightly, for a moment he looked like he was about
to fall over, but then with slow –although unsteady- steps, he came to the side
of the bed and unwillingly climbed in next to her.
Jon was wearing a thin linen tunic that was left open at the front, letting his
chest free to the touch and reached the top of his thighs, almost where his
smallclothes ended -although they went a little lower and closer to his knees-
leaving the rest of his legs bare. Being so close to him, she could smell the
wine on his breath, which reminded her of how much he had struggled with this.
She wanted to comfort him and comfort herself as well, but she didn’t know how.
Neither of them wanted to be here, yet they both understood that this bedding
was a necessary evil.
With a reluctant hand she closed the distance and touched his bare chest,
feeling his uneven breathing and his racing heart. Jon had his eyes closed
again and Sansa could only guess of the battle that was going on inside his
head. Sparing a quick glance towards their audience, she saw the impatience she
could already sense and so, even though she didn’t want to push him, she once
again took the initiative and kissed him.
The moment their lips touched, Jon let out an involuntary pained gasp, but then
pressed his lips harder against her own. If she thought that her heart had been
racing before, then certainly now it was about to burst out of her chest.
Suddenly, she could feel strong arms around her and she was being pushed back
on the bed, with Jon following and climbing on top of her, guarding her face
from their eyes and creating a false sense of privacy.
For a while they just stared at each other, before Jon dived in to kiss her
again. Shutting her eyes, her arms found their way around his body of their own
volition, pulling him closer, and after a few moments of kissing, Sansa felt
him grow hard against her thigh. When she tried to reach for the laces of his
breeches, however, Jon suddenly pulled back again and, opening her eyes in
confusion, she saw there were tears in his. Sansa’s breath got caught in her
throat before Jon buried his face in the crook of her neck and she heard him
whisper for the first time.
“I’m so sorry. All of this is my fault. I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me,
Sansa,” he said and she knew that none of the others in the room could have
heard him.
“There’s nothing to forgive. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry too,” she whispered
back and kissed his forehead, as she felt him nodding against her.
Still with tears in his eyes, Jon lay next to her and started unlacing his
smallclothes, before he clumsily got rid of them entirely and crawled back on
top of her and between her legs. Sansa was left staring at his manhood that was
now standing at attention and for some time neither of them moved. The sound of
someone clearing their throat, however, brought them back to the present and
Sansa with trembling hands started pulling at her night rail to uncover more of
her body, until it reached her stomach.
She was wearing no smallclothes underneath and she didn’t miss the way Jon’s
eyes widened at the sight of her, naked, or the way his manhood twitched.
Earlier, when she had been getting ready for the bedding, she had thought it
would be easier for them this way and that they would be done faster when the
time came, if she just wore her night rail and nothing more. In the end, she
was thankful for her decision, because she didn’t know whether she would have
found the courage to remove her smallclothes now.
Another tear rolled down Jon’s cheek and it made Sansa want to cry as well, as
he settled closer between her thighs and took his member in his hand, stroking
it gently up and down, until a wet, clear almost, substance started leaking
from the tip. His face was back on her neck and she could hear and feel his
shaky breaths, before he started whispering again.
“I’m so sorry. Please tell me, if I hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you,” he
said for her ears only and Sansa found herself nodding against his head, while
hiding her face in his dark curls, before she opened her legs wider for him. He
didn’t enter her right away, however, but rather tried to smear the substance
on her womanhood and only after he was satisfied that she was wet enough to
ease the process, did he do anything.
“I’ll enter you now, alright?” he asked in a whisper and Sansa nodded once
more. Although her hands were holding tightly onto the tunic on his back, from
fear of the pain that was coming, nothing could have prepared her for what she
actually felt. Jon went in slow, but the tearing feeling once he got inside her
was unbearable. She wanted to scream and to cry, but she wouldn’t give any of
the people in the room the satisfaction to be disgraced even more than she
already had been and she also didn’t want to make Jon feel bad. The pain she
felt wasn’t his fault. He was being as gentle as he could be with her, but the
ache was inevitable.
They were both breathing hard now and Sansa couldn’t prevent the tears from
forming in her eyes. After he let her adjust to his size, Jon started thrusting
slowly and steadily in and out of her, until he lifted his head to look at her
and saw her tears. Suddenly, he stopped all movement, while buried deep inside
her, and worry flooded his features.
“You’re in pain,” he whispered and it wasn’t a question. Sansa wanted to
reassure him that no, she wasn’t, so that he’d continue and get it over with,
but she couldn’t pretend. She was in pain and she couldn’t hide it from him.
Jon immediately tried to pull out of her then, but Sansa, locking her legs
around his hips, stopped him.
“I’m not going to keep hurting you,” he said stubbornly and Sansa gave him a
sad smile.
“We have to keep going,” she whispered back, but he shook his head negatively
and before long she felt him starting to go soft inside her.
“Jon, we have to keep going,” she told him again and then kissed his pouty
lips, trying to get him in the mood again. Her attempt wasn’t very successful,
however, and so, she decided to take a different route.
Pulling her hands from where they were clutching the tunic on his back, she
started unlacing the front of her night rail until her breasts were exposed.
Jon gulped at the sight and Sansa was glad to feel him grow hard inside her
again. Her new husband didn’t share her relief though, and she could see how
horrified he was by his reaction. He didn’t want to want her and yet he
couldn’t resist her and it was all Sansa needed to go on. Taking his hands in
her own, she guided them to cup her breasts, as Jon let an involuntary moan
escape his lips.
“It’s alright. I’m alright. I promise,” she reassured him, brushing his curls
away from his eyes with her slender fingers and caressing his cheek. Jon only
nodded then and kissed her palm which was still resting on his face, before he
started moving again inside her as slowly as he could, this time never taking
his eyes off hers, probably worried she was lying to him, tracing her face for
any sign of pain.
The signs, though, never came. It was still painful, but the worst part was
over. Even though she still didn’t enjoy it, she was comfortable enough to not
let it show on her face and be patient until it was over, and before long, it
was. Jon’s thrusts became faster, deeper and uncoordinated until, at last, she
felt him pulsing his seed inside her womb -slowly halting his movement- as he
tightened a little his grip on her breasts and a deep growl came from his
throat.
Thereupon, he removed his hands and covered her chest with her night rail,
pulling on the laces to keep it closed, before he leaned down to kiss her
forehead gently, as if he was once again apologizing. She could see he was the
one in pain now, his eyes still looking red and puffy, as he carefully slid out
of her to lie down on the bed. The rest of her body remained uncovered, so that
the witnesses could see the results of their coupling, which Sansa was certain
were obvious, as she felt Jon’s seed starting to drip from her hole. Sansa
didn’t dare to look at them, but she felt their eyes on her regardless, as one
by one the lords and lady got up, took one last look between her legs that she
still kept open, all agreeing that it was done, and silently left the room,
leaving the couple alone for the very first time.
Only when she heard the door shut behind them did she realize how bad she was
trembling. The tears she had kept back all this time, trying to be strong for
Jon and herself, were coming now with a vengeance and once she closed her legs
and covered herself with her night rail, her chest started heaving painfully
and turning away from Jon, on her side, she began crying freely. She felt
violated, not because of what she and her former half-brother had done, but
because of the circumstances they had to do it under. Because they were forced
to do it. They had stolen what could have been a beautiful memory in their
future from them. They had tainted it. Jon was probably feeling even worse than
her, since he had never wanted this. He had been crying during their coupling
and Sansa during the entire time had thought her heart might burst not only
from all the anxiousness but also from the pain she could see in his eyes. And
for that, she hated all of them. She hated them for putting that look on his
face. She hated them for witnessing their union and she wished she never had to
see them again.
She didn’t know for how long she had been crying, when suddenly she felt Jon
move from the other side of the bed and turned in time to see him on his knees
on the floor, still naked from the waist down, emptying the contents of his
stomach inside her chamber pot.
                                      ˜*˜
                                      Jon
He felt like the agony would never end. All the earlier drinking had left him
with a sick stomach and a severe headache, but no physical pain could compare
to what he was feeling in his heart and his soul. He had violated and disgraced
her and yet he had taken pleasure in it while doing so. The feeling of her
underneath his body, the feeling of her breasts in his hands and her wet warmth
around his cock had been the best thing he had ever experienced. She had been
his first and he knew she would also be his last. For that there was no doubt
in his mind, even though they’d probably never sleep together ever again. He
would never look at another woman after her.
He hadn’t realized it until he had been buried deep inside her, but he had been
lying to himself all along. He had been lying about his feelings for her. He
had told everyone that he could only ever see her as his sister, trying to
convince no other than himself. He had wanted to believe it so badly, but deep
inside he had always known it was a lie. A lie both Father and Robb had seen
through, even Arya and everyone else. But none of them had wanted to argue with
him, so they had all acted as if they believed him. Everyone except for Lady
Catelyn, who every time she’d look at him, her icy eyes would tell him she
already knew all of his depraved thoughts and secrets. All the jealousy he had
felt towards Theon made perfect sense now. He had drunk himself to oblivion
during the feast, telling himself he was doing it because he didn’t want this
marriage, but the truth was that he had been only trying to forget that Sansa
didn’t feel for him the way he felt for her. He wished she had never told him
the truth. He wished she’d let him believe the lie she had told Robb. He wished
it had never been a lie and she loved him. Nevertheless he was Jon Stark now,
he had never felt more like the Targaryen he actually was.
During the act he had thought that he couldn’t possibly ever feel more ashamed
of himself and that shame had brought tears in his eyes. But he had been wrong.
The moment she had turned away from him and had started crying on her pillow,
while her shoulders and her entire body heaved violently, his heart had broken
into a million pieces and he had felt like the worst man alive. He had done
that to her. Everything she was suffering from had been all because of him.
Because of who he was. Because she was trying to protect him. Finally, his body
couldn’t take the realization more than his heart could and he had run to the
chamber pot he had noticed in the corner of the room and had started emptying
his stomach.
He couldn’t tell how long he had been hunched over the pot, but after hearing
soft footsteps approaching him, he suddenly felt Sansa’s delicate hand on his
shoulder, as she knelt beside him, her sweet scent enveloping him and
comforting him from the horrible smell of sick coming from the chamber pot.
“Jon, are you alright? Do you need me to call Maester Luwin?” she asked in a
worried voice. If he didn’t know any better, he’d never tell from the tone of
her voice that she had just been crying her eyes out. There was only concern
there. How sweet and perfect was she? She was still worrying about him after
everything he had done to her.
“No…no, I’ll be fine. I should probably go to my own-” he started to say, but
before he had a chance to finish, he was vomiting again in the pot, making his
eyes water in the process and feeling his body shaking from the exhaustion,
until Sansa’s hand started rubbing comforting patterns on his back.
“It’s alright. You’re alright. Let it all out,” she said soothingly close to
his ear and then he felt her kiss his damp from sweat hair near his temple.
“I’m sorry, Jon. I know this was really hard for you,” she said and hugged him,
as he stayed hunched over the pot, staring at his own sick. What was she
talking about? Hard for him? Hadn’t she noticed how much he had lusted after
her during the bedding? How could she still be trying to find excuses for him?
And what about her? How bad and hard it had been for her? Her tears afterwards
had been a clear sign of that.
“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m the one who should be
apologizing.”
“No, you’re not. You didn’t want this more than I did. They forced us into
this. They’re the responsible ones. I’m sorry I cried. You shouldn’t take this
personally. All of it was just too overwhelming for me.”
“Of course I should. I’m the one who hurt you,” he said miserably and looked at
her for the first time in a while. Her eyes were dry, but still looked red
around her blue irises and he was certain that his eyes didn’t look any better.
“No, you didn’t. A little pain was inevitable. I expected it,” she said and
caressed his hair.
“I’m not talking about the physical pain, although I’m really sorry about that
too,” Jon confessed and she smiled sadly at him.
“I felt no other kind of pain because of you. Just the physical one. I was just
too embarrassed because of the way it happened. It’s not how I imagined my
first time would be like. In front of a bunch of strangers and Theon, staring
between my legs. Their presence in the room tainted this memory for me.”
“I wish I could believe you,” he muttered and looked down at the pot once more.
“You should. ‘Cause it’s the truth,” she said and kissed his temple again.
“Do you think you’ll be sick again, or can we go back to bed?” she asked and
started caressing his back.
“I think I’m good for now… but I should go to my own chambers.”
“I understand you want to, but we both know it’s not possible while there are
all these strangers roaming the halls of the castle. You have to sleep here.”
“I know… you’re right. I’m just being stupid. I could sleep on the floor-”
“No, Jon. You’re not going to sleep on the floor. I think that after what just
happened between us, sleeping in the same bed shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”
“I guess…” was the only thing he said. He couldn’t tell her how much he wanted
to hold her in his arms and make her forget about everything. Make her forgive
him.
“Do you need help?” she asked when they were already standing on their feet,
and although he shook his head negatively, he still found himself leaning on
her all the way back to the bed. After she dropped him gently on the edge, she
then helped him lie down on his back, lifting his legs and laying them on the
mattress. When she was finally done and he tried to thank her, however, his
eyes fell on his manhood, which was still stained with her secretions and his
own, as well as the blood from taking her maidenhead, only then noticing and
remembering he was still naked from the waist down.
Sansa following his gaze blushed.
“Oh, I can bring you something to clean that up,” she said and hurriedly left
him to do just that.
When she returned, Jon had already started falling asleep and so, when she
asked him if he wanted her to do it for him, he didn’t really realize what he
was agreeing to, until he felt her small, soft hand on his member, while she
used the other to clean him up with a wet cloth. For once he was thankful he
was so exhausted and his cock couldn’t react to her touch, but her attentions
had once again woken him up.
Offering him a tight smile, accompanied by a deep blush on her cheeks, she
moved away from the bed and then Jon’s eyes followed her as she proceeded to
place her hands underneath her night rail to clean herself too with the very
same wet cloth she had just used on him. Thereupon, she dropped the cloth on
the floor, next to the chamber pot he had been using and, moving to the other
side of the room, she picked up another chamber pot, which Jon soon realized
was the one from his own chambers that had been probably brought here for him
along with his other possessions.
After bringing it right next to his side of the bed, in case he had need of it
during the night, she moved about the room, putting out all of the candles -the
only light now coming from the fire that was burning low in the hearth- and
then climbed on the bed next to him, covering them both with furs, before she
bid him goodnight. The last thing he saw, as his eyelids started to get heavy,
was her beautiful red hair spread out onto his pillow and from that moment he
knew that was the only sight he’d ever want to fall asleep and wake up to.  
Chapter End Notes
     So, that was it! Thoughts?
     P.S. I hope you don't feel like I'm ignoring you when I'm not
     replying to your comments, because it's not my intention! I always
     read each and every single one of them and always love them! The
     thing is that most of the times the only thing I can think to say is
     how thankful I am to you for following my story and commenting on it
     and so, I'd end up leaving the same comment over and over again.
     Whenever there is a specific question I can answer without spoiling
     the plot, I'm trying to do so in the chapter notes, so that everyone
     that might have had the same one can read it! Reading your thoughts
     keeps me going! So, once again thanks to all of you who take time to
     leave me a comment and I love you all! XOXO
***** The Aftermath *****
Chapter Notes
     Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)
                                     Sansa
It was late and the sun was already high in the sky, filling her chambers with
light and warmth, when Sansa began to stir awake. However, it wasn’t the sun’s
light that made her open her eyes, but the warmth emanating from Jon’s body
from where it was pressed against her back, with one of his arms around her
middle and the other underneath her neck and pillow. Suddenly, memories from
the previous night came to her mind, making her shiver, and immediately she
felt Jon stiffen in response.
“Forgive me,” he said in a raspy from sleep voice, trying to distance himself
from her. But before he could do it, Sansa grasped the arm that was around her
middle and stopped him, laying her arm over his.
“Don’t. I don’t mind,” she replied and she felt him relax around her once more,
as she started stroking softly the short hairs on his arm.
She knew that Jon must have been exhausted after the night he had had. Sansa
had had trouble sleeping herself and so, she had heard him each and every one
of the six times he had retched and emptied his stomach inside the chamber pot
she had brought next to his side of the bed. When the day had finally broken
and the first soft pink and orange colors had painted the room, Sansa had
watched him as he had tiredly gotten up from the bed, taking the chamber pot
with and placing it next to the other. He had then proceeded to relieve himself
inside one of the two, standing with his back to her, and thereupon he had
started searching for his smallclothes. After he had put them on, he had
removed his tunic, which he had stained with sick and had moved to the basin
that had been filled with fresh water from the night before, and had washed his
mouth and his hands, also splashing some water on his face. When he had finally
returned to the bed, Sansa had pretended being asleep and so she had not
reacted as he had gathered her in his arms, before they had both once more
fallen asleep.  
“How are you feeling?” he asked, burying his face in her hair at the back of
her neck, before she felt him breathe her in.
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
“You?”
“Terrible,” he said after a small pause and his answer made her turn in his
arms to face him. When their eyes met, she lifted her hand and brushed his dark
curls away from his forehead, the same way she had done the night before,
pulling them behind his ear. Her action made Jon smile sleepily at her, just as
he started caressing her body over her night rail, at the spot where his arm
had been lying, returning the affection.
“Does your head hurt? Do you still feel sick?” she asked, now softly stroking
the side of his face that was not touching the pillow, while her other hand was
left on his bare chest.
“My head does hurt, but I don’t feel nauseous anymore,” he said, staring into
her eyes with his brown ones.
“I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m sorry I got so drunk last night. I
shouldn’t have-”
“It’s alright. It was hard for both of us,” she cut him off and then moved her
face closer to his, bumping his nose with her own, while she placed her arm
underneath his and started drawing absent patterns on his lower back with her
fingers.
“Do you… Does it hurt you down there?” he asked then, with their noses still
touching, and even though they were so close, she could still see the way his
face flushed.
“Not really. It just… it feels a bit strange,” she answered and then lowered
her face to avoid his eyes. She was the one blushing now and Jon took advantage
of the fact to place his lips firmly on her forehead and kiss her, while his
hand came to the side of her neck, moving his thumb slowly back and forth over
her soft skin.
For a while neither of them moved. Jon’s lips remained on her forehead, as his
breathing slowed, and as she closed her eyes, their soft caresses were the only
indication they were still awake.
“I don’t regret it, you know,” she muttered, breaking the silence. Jon said
nothing in return, but Sansa knew he had heard her the moment he had stopped
moving his thumb over the skin of her neck.
“I know you may not feel the same way, but I don’t regret marrying you and
making love with you. I just wish it hadn’t happened the way it did. I just
wish it was just you and me,” she confessed, feeling tears coming to her eyes
and before she knew it, she was sobbing in his neck, as Jon held her tightly
against him.
“Shhhh… We’re going to be fine. I promise. I won’t let anyone else hurt you
ever again,” he told her as she cried harder, wetting his neck in the process.
Jon, however, didn’t seem to mind. His strong arms around her felt so welcoming
and safe.
“I hate them, Jon. I hate them. I feel so ashamed. I don’t want to see them
ever again.”
“I know, sweet girl. It’s alright. You don’t have to see them,” he said and
started kissing her hair repeatedly on the top of her head.
“Jon, how could Father let this happen to us? Why didn’t he stop it? Why didn’t
he protect us?” she asked, moving her head backwards to stare inside his eyes.
“I don’t know… I don’t think he realized what he was agreeing to. How bad it
would be.”
“I’m so angry with him, Jon. He didn’t even try. Not even Robb or Mother could-
” she began to say, but the tears wouldn’t let her finish her sentence.
Jon said nothing to defend him, like he’d usually do, and Sansa knew it could
only mean one thing. He was just as angry with him. But it made sense that he
would be. Jon had never wanted to have such a relationship with her and he had
been forced to do it in the worst possible way. When she had told him earlier
that she did not regret sleeping with him, he had not said a thing, probably
because he didn’t agree with her and didn’t want to upset her.
“I don’t want to see any of them. I don’t want to leave the bed today,” she
confessed as Jon leaned down and placed his lips on each of her eyelids,
kissing her tears away.
“You don’t have to see them. You can stay in bed for as long as you like. I can
go and bring you food here, if you want,” he said just as he moved his lips to
her hair again.
“No, please don’t leave me!” she said and tightened her grip around him. Jon
was the only one she felt comfortable and safe with, after what had happened
the previous night, and she didn’t want to be alone.
“Shhh… don’t worry. I won’t! Go back to sleep. Since we’re not planning to
leave the bed any time soon, there’s no reason for us to be awake. I still feel
so tired,” he murmured in her hair, sounding sleepy, and then kissed the top of
her head.
“Me too,” she agreed, letting her eyes drift closed, and before long, after
their breathing had calmed, they both gave in to sleep, holding onto each
other.   
                                      ˜*˜
                                      Jon
The next time Jon woke up it was to the sound of heated whispering. His
headache had mostly subsided, but he still felt too numb from sleep to open his
eyes. At first, he had thought the one whispering had been Sansa, and that she
had already woken up before he did. However, he soon realized that was not the
case. Sansa was still sound asleep in his arms, her slow and steady breaths
warming his neck.
“Cat, let them sleep. They’ve been through enough already,” a voice said, which
Jon realized belonged to his father. By the sound of it, he was talking with
his wife.
“Let them sleep? Have you lost your mind, Ned? The sun has almost set and
they’ve been sleeping all day. Sansa needs to eat and bathe and get away from
that bastard! I need to see how’s she’s doing. My poor girl-” Lady Stark
whispered back angrily at first, before her voice broke and she sounded like
she was in tears.
“Look, Cat, I know you’re still angry with me, but you need to stop taking it
out on Jon. He’s my nephew and as of yesterday our daughter’s husband. I don’t
want to ever hear you say another word about him. None of this is his fault. I
won’t have you disrespect him anymore.”
“Disrespect him? You think I’m disrespecting him? Seventeen years ago you rode
off with Robert Baratheon and came back a year later with another woman’s son
and ever since that day I’ve felt nothing but shame because of him. His whole
life he’s been an insult to our marriage. Finally after all these years I find
out all of it was a lie and instead of that being a good thing our whole lives
are being destroyed all over again. All because of him. He’s the one
responsible for everything that’s happening and here we are, rewarding him with
the hand of our daughter. Our beautiful, innocent daughter. You do realize he
disgraced her last night, don’t you?”
“They were both doing their duty. They are wedded. There’s nothing shameful
about a bedding ceremony. Even one with witnesses,” his father said, but he
didn’t sound like he believed it either.
“How can you say that? Do you even listen to yourself, Ned? You let the likes
of Manderly and Karstark walk all over you! You gave them your blessing to
watch as your bastard took our precious daughter’s innocence,” Lady Stark
hissed back.
“Do you think I wanted that? Do you have any idea how horrible I feel about
that? I had no choice, Cat. They had already made up their minds. They didn’t
believe us. They had come here only to insult us and convince the others as
well. I had to do it. I had to agree. Do you have any idea how great the forces
under their command are? They’re almost half the Northern army. Without them we
wouldn’t stand a chance against Robert.”
“Still… we could have found another way. I never agreed to this match, Ned, and
every step of the way I’ve been proven right. I know you did what you did
because you’re trying to protect him, but what of our daughter, Ned? You have
allowed your own daughter to get hurt, because you wanted to protect your
nephew. Where does it end? Where do you plan to draw the line? How much more
does she have to suffer until you see that?”
“Sansa is a strong girl and she agreed to this match of her own free will. Jon
would never do anything to hurt her and if I have to choose between having them
both die or make love, I choose the second. Because make no mistake, my love,
without the support of the other Houses we have zero chance of surviving. The
Tyrells have already joined Robert in his war against the Lannisters and I’m
sure others will follow too. What will happen when all these soldiers march for
the North? Because you know as well as I do that Robert is not one to let go of
his anger,” his father said in a low voice, before they both stopped talking
for a while.
“So, this is what we have reduced our daughter to, then? Politics and war? I’m
wondering. Is that what you’ll tell Sansa when she asks you why you didn’t
protect her and let them humiliate her?” Lady Catelyn asked, still whispering,
and thereupon Jon heard footsteps fading in the distance, before the chamber’s
door was opened and closed. Then, opening his eyes carefully, he found his
father standing alone by the foot of the bed, his eyes closed tightly, as if he
was in pain.
“Forgive me, my children. You have no idea how sorry I am. I’m only trying to
protect you. Please find it in your hearts to forgive me,” he whispered after a
moment of silence, thinking they were both still sleeping. But upon hearing his
words, Jon didn’t know how to feel.
He was still furious with his father, because Sansa was hurting, and to his
utter incredulity he had found himself agreeing with a lot of what Lady Catelyn
had said, even if most of it had been against him. But on the other hand, he
couldn’t not see the point his father had made. The one thing he was certain of
was that he was unwilling to have that conversation, while Sansa was still
sleeping in his arms. So, afraid that his father might see him, he quickly shut
his eyes again and opened them only after he heard the door open and close for
a second time, finding the room empty.
                                      ˜*˜
The days after the wedding had come and gone in pretty much the same manner.
Everyone had been avoiding everyone, always being on edge and angry and Jon had
found himself spending most of his time with Sansa, much to their guests
delight, who would often comment on what a beautiful couple the two of them
made. The bedding ceremony as well as the united front they presented, looking
like younger versions of the lord and lady of Winterfell, seemed to have
convinced them of the devotion and love the two of them shared and luckily,
none of the witnesses had dared to say anything after the torture they had put
them through, staying mostly out of their way.
Their family, naturally, was an entirely different matter. Sansa had not been
in the mood to talk to anyone else about that night except for him, always
taking refuge by his side and even going as far as to avoid her own lady
mother, which had consequently resulted in Lady Catelyn constantly glaring at
him and Jon being reminded of her conversation with his father that day in
Sansa’s chambers. Of course that was something he was already used to and so it
hadn’t really fazed him when it had started happening again, but the thing that
had, had been Robb and Arya’s cold behavior towards the both of them, which
continued to this day.
Robb was allegedly angry at Sansa for lying to him, according to her, but Jon
could see right through him. His anger towards his sister was nothing but a
front, one he used to hide how painful it was for him that she was shutting him
out. Robb had always been her favorite, the one she’d always run to when she
was in trouble or sad and Jon knew how helpless Robb must have been feeling
with everything that was happening; and the fact that she was always by Jon’s
side, confiding everything in him, didn’t make things any better. It only
helped for Robb’s anger towards Jon to grow.
His brother was still furious at him for going through with the bedding
ceremony and not stopping it, and he never failed to show him how mad he was
with every chance he got, while they were training in the yard. The only thing
that kept him relatively at bay -trying to pass it as simple competition- was
the fact that there were still strangers in the castle and they all needed to
appear united. But Jon had definitely earned more bruises the past few days
than he was accustomed to. At least he was happy to give just as many back and
more, especially when they were sparring with Theon. Theon, who had thankfully
listened to his warning and avoided being in the same room as Sansa ever since
the bedding. Theon had never been that obedient before, but it looked like
having Ghost stand on the Ironborn’s chest and growl at him, had done the
trick.
As for Arya, she was giving them both the silent treatment. Jon knew that deep
down she understood that this wasn’t their fault and they had been forced into
the situation, but she felt betrayed by them all the same. Jon had promised her
that nothing would change and he knew that Arya had forgiven Sansa, believing
she had only agreed to the wedding because she wanted to help him and that
neither of them expected this to be real. But none of that mattered to their
little sister anymore. Everything had already changed.
He as well as Sansa could no longer pretend being brother and sister. They were
both wedded and bedded, sharing the same chambers every night, and everyone in
Winterfell knew about it. They were truly husband and wife. Nothing about this
marriage was a sham anymore. Only Sansa’s feelings towards him. But the
previous night had been the last time she had to endure him in her bed, even
though she never showed him that she minded having him there. Instead, she was
always rather sweet to him about it, cuddling close to him during the cold
nights, making him hope that maybe she could someday return the feelings he had
started having for her. The newlywed bliss, however, was about to come to an
end.
The last of the lords that had come for the wedding had left Winterfell at the
first light of day, and so there would be no reason for them to share chambers
anymore. Naturally, Lady Stark had wasted no time to inform him of the fact the
moment the lords had announced their departure, and Jon had reluctantly agreed,
knowing that Sansa would want her bedchambers back to herself. Even though he
didn’t want to stop sleeping in the same bed as her, he understood that she
probably did and so, without telling her anything, he had prepared himself for
their parting. So, for their last night together, he had held her closer to
him, had laid more kisses on her hair and had spent more time looking at her as
she slept in his arms than actually sleep himself; and when the morning had
come, he had refused to get up, pulling her back to his chest and making her
giggle.
“The maids have already started moving your things back to your chambers, so
you don’t need to worry about moving them yourself,” came suddenly Lady Stark’s
voice, as they all broke their fast, pulling him out of his thoughts. When he
lifted his eyes to look at her, he noticed everyone staring at him. Luckily, it
was only the family sitting at the table.
“Mother, Jon doesn’t have to-”
“I’ve already discussed this with him, Sansa, and it is something he wants
also,” Lady Stark interrupted her daughter, as Sansa sweetly tried to defend
him, even if it was not in her best interest. The redhead’s confused eyes found
his own then, from where she was sitting next to him.
“Is it true? Do you want to go back to your chambers?” she asked, and if he
didn’t know any better, he’d think she was hurt by it. But Jon knew she just
felt bad for him for having to move back to his tiny bedchamber, which didn’t
even have a hearth to keep him warm. This was something he had confessed to
her, while they were lying in bed one night, after she had asked him how it
felt like for him to be sleeping in her chambers, and then, he had started
telling her of the benefits, making her laugh.
“Yeah… I think it’s for the best. I mean… with everyone leaving, there’s no
reason to pressure ourselves anymore,” the lies rolled off his tongue, making
him hate himself more and more with every word coming out of his mouth. He
didn’t think it was for the best. Lady Stark did. And not sharing her chambers
with her was the last thing he wanted.
“Oh…” was the only thing Sansa said.
“Well, it was about bloody time!”
“Arya! Language!” Lady Stark scolded her daughter.
“What? It was!” Arya said, defending herself, and Jon saw Robb nodding in
agreement next to her. His father was the only one who didn’t seem to have a
reaction to this, but kept staring at his plate, while the rest of them
expressed their opinions around the table.
“But Sansa and Jon are married now. Aren’t they supposed to sleep in the same
bed like you and Father?” came Rickon’s sweet voice then, while Bran next to
him showed he agreed. It seemed that their two little brothers were the only
ones who were supportive of him and Sansa these days.
“It’s not always that simple, my sweetling,” Lady Stark explained, although she
was wrong. It was that simple. Jon was Sansa’s husband now and they were
supposed to be sleeping in the same bed. But everyone else thought otherwise,
so there wasn’t much he could do about it.
“I think it’d be good for all of us, if things went back to normal,” Robb was
the last to say anything on the matter, as Jon glanced at Sansa for one more
time before they all went back to eating. Sansa didn’t touch her food for the
remaining of the meal.
                                      ˜*˜
By nightfall all of his possessions had already been moved back to his own
chambers, and so, later, Jon was lying awake in bed, changing positions in an
attempt to get comfortable, willing himself to go to sleep, but failing
miserably. Coming back to his chambers and his bed, without Sansa’s warm body
next to him and her auburn hair on his pillow had proved to be more difficult
than he had originally thought. On top of that, he didn’t even have Ghost with
him to distract him. His own direwolf, the traitor, had refused to leave
Sansa’s chamber, sleeping on the rug next to Lady in front of the hearth, and
so Jon had been left to brood alone in the dark.
As the night wore on, his restlessness was getting worse and worse. So much
that he was thinking of giving up on sleep entirely and getting up from the
bed, when suddenly he heard two soft knocks on his door.
“Come in,” he said, leaning back on his elbows to see who it was at the door,
expecting it to be either Robb or Bran. When the door was finally opened,
however, his breath got caught in his throat.
It was Sansa who stood in the entrance, bathing in the light coming from the
corridor, wearing just her night rail, while her hair was loose over her
breasts and back.
“Jon, are you sleeping?” she asked in a soft voice, closing the door behind
her, immersing the room into darkness once again, and padding on the stone
floor with bare feet.
“Sansa, sweetling, what are you doing here?” he heard himself ask, when he was
over the initial shock of his nightly visitor.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she answered, fidgeting by the bed.
“Can I sleep here?” she asked then, taking him by surprise.
“You want to sleep here, with me?” he asked disbelievingly, instead of
answering.
“Yes, if you don’t mind,” she replied, but sounded unsure.
“I don’t mind,” Jon said in return and immediately made room for her on the
bed, lifting the furs for her to get under, while she climbed in next to him.
It wasn’t until a few moments later, and when she was lying in his arms with
her head resting on his chest, breathing steadily in her sleep,  that he
finally let a sigh of relief escape his lips, before he muttered, “Thank the
Gods,” and then sleep claimed him as well.
***** Loving You In Secret *****
Chapter Notes
     Hello, guys and thank you for sticking with this story!
     I know I've told some of you a long time ago that I was going to
     update soon, but unfortunately I was too busy with real life to
     write, so I'm really sorry for the delay!
     This chapter was really hard to write! I'm not really pleased with
     how it turned out and kept deleting and rewriting a lot of things,
     but I decided that I wanted to post it for all of you, so here it is!
     Even though nothing crazy happens plot-wise, it does have its
     important moments and it was a crucial chapter to write for what
     comes next. So, I hope you find it okay! Happy reading! XOXO
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                     Sansa
Sansa woke up slowly, feeling loved and secure, as she lay in Jon’s arms, using
his bare chest as a pillow. His heartbeat was loud and steady in her ear; his
skin was soft and warm under her cheek; and all she thought at that moment was
that she could stay like this, with him, forever. A lifetime by his side
wouldn’t be that terrible. In fact, she was starting to believe that being
married to him was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
Every day that passed made it harder and harder for her not to notice all the
little things that made him Jon. Not Stark or Snow or Targaryen. Just Jon.
Things she had never tried to pay attention to before. Things she had never
known. Like, how adorable he looked when he frowned or he was confused. How
pretty and kind his eyes were, when he smiled that special smile she had only
ever seen him share with her. How inviting his lips seemed, especially when he
was pouting, or how soft his dark curls were to the touch.
Playing with his hair had become sort of an addiction for her. Every night when
they’d lie in her bed, she would eventually start running her fingers through
his hair as they talked; brushing away a curl that had fallen in his eyes or
simply touching his hair at the back of his neck. And Jon would always let her,
lying there and enjoying her caresses, much like Ghost. Master and wolf seemed
to always like it when she was petting them, and Sansa was happy to indulge
them both.
Jon was handsome. It was a fact that she’d always been aware of. The times in
the past when she had caught the servant girls gawking at him, when he’d either
been training with Robb in the yard, showing off his muscles, or simply passing
by them, hadn’t been few. She knew his face and his body, even though he was
still very young and not a man grown yet, were pleasing to the eye. But now she
had come to realize that Jon was so much more than that. He was kind and
thoughtful. He was sweet and caring; and every day she spent with him made her
love him all the more.
All of a sudden, she couldn’t picture being married to anyone else. Jon was
just like one of the heroes in the songs she liked so much, and no one else
could even compare. He made her feel safe and loved and she trusted him
completely, and even though it hadn’t been that long since their wedding, she
had already started falling for him. Her lie to her brother was slowly but
surely becoming a reality, and there were times, when he’d look at her in a
certain way, and she’d think that he might be starting to feel the same way as
her. And although she tried not to read too much into it, the relief she had
seen in his face when she had come to him the previous night had made her heart
flutter and had driven her into his waiting arms faster than ever before.
As these thoughts kept running through her mind, she slowly opened her eyes to
find the room still mostly dark. Jon’s chambers weren’t as bright as her own,
with them being smaller and having fewer windows, but she could tell that the
day was just beginning to break and she sighed to herself disappointed. Her
mother wouldn’t be pleased, if she found out she had spent the night in Jon’s
bed, so she had to return to her chambers before anyone else woke. It
infuriated her that they had to be put through her family’s judgement when she
and Jon were already married, but she had to be patient, and she would be, for
Jon. Because she didn’t want to give her mother any more reasons to hate him.
Her mother needed to be eased into these new developments slowly, and
hopefully, she would accept Jon as Sansa’s husband in the end.
With a heavy heart and while looking at Jon’s peaceful from sleep face, she
carefully disentangled herself from his arms and got up from the bed. Her
movement caused Jon to stir, but thankfully he did not wake up. She wasn’t
ready to handle the disappointment in his eyes, if he were to catch her trying
to leave his chambers in secret. Later she would explain why she left, but for
now she had to go. Even if for a moment it felt impossible for her to move, as
she spared one last look at Jon’s sleeping form. All she wanted to do was to
return by his side and lay her head back down on his chest. But as soon as the
thought crossed her mind, she came back to her senses and finally walked out of
his chambers.
“Sansa?” a voice startled her just as she closed the door. Sansa turned around
to find Theon staring at her. It was the first time she was seeing him face to
face since the bedding and she felt a lump forming in her throat, rendering her
unable to speak.
“I’m sorry, I did not mean to scare you,” he said, taking in her frightened
expression.
“Were you in Jon’s chambers?” he asked then, and Sansa saw how his jaw clenched
while his gaze travelled to the door behind her and back to her. This time, the
nerve behind his question made her find her voice again.
“What if I was? What’s it to you? Jon is my husband, as you of all people very
well know,” she bit back bitterly.
“Sansa, I-”
“So, did you get a good look? Was it pleasing enough for you? Was it close to
what you see and do every time you walk into the whorehouse? Would you like me
to call Jon for a repeat performance? Is that why you’re here?” Sansa asked one
question after the other, unable to stop herself. She was just now realizing
how badly she had wanted to yell at him or at anyone for that matter for days.
How her anger towards Theon and all the others who had witnessed the bedding
had only bottled up and multiplied.
“Sansa, please, I did not-”
“Why did you agree, Theon? How could you agree to something like that? You knew
how difficult it would be for me. The last thing I needed was a member of my
own family watching while Jon took me for the first time,” she said angrily,
trying to keep her voice down, not wanting to wake anyone up.
“I’m sorry, Sansa… I know I shouldn’t have agreed. Please, forgive me. I never
meant to make you feel uncomfortable. I just- I had to make sure- I only
wanted-”
“What? What could you have possibly wanted? What did you get out of this?”
“I had to make sure that no one mistreated you. That Jon did not hurt you.”
“Jon? You were worried about Jon?” she asked, her words dripping with sarcasm.
“Jon is nothing like you. He would never hurt me.”
“But he did hurt you. I know he did. Even before the bedding. When he was
drinking himself to death and was ignoring you. I saw how you kept glancing
sadly towards him while we danced. And then during; I saw the way you tensed
up, while he was lost in his lust, enjoying himself, and it took everything for
me to not get up and rip him away from your body.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. It was nothing like that,” Sansa
retorted and then started walking away from him, while she huffed furiously.
But soon she felt Theon tailing after her.
“Wasn’t it though? Is it a lie that he refused to even share a dance with you?
Is it a lie that he instead kept drinking all night, while you danced with me
and other guests? All he did was make a spectacle of himself, embarrassing you
and your father in the process, in front of the whole of the North. His actions
and his behavior were what led to the bedding. So if you want to blame anyone
for that, blame Jon,” Theon yelled after her and Sansa was surprised that no
one had appeared yet at the corridor, as she stopped walking and then turned
around to look at him. The way he was speaking gave her the impression that he
had been thinking about this a lot.
“It wasn’t Jon’s fault. It was hard for both of us and he was only trying to
find a way to cope with the situation. They had already made up their minds
about the bedding, before the wedding ever started. They never trusted us and
it was obvious from the moment they set foot in the castle.”
“Who told you that? Jon? Or is it something that youbelieve?” Theon asked, his
tone annoying her even more. Sansa said nothing but only looked away. Theon was
trying to make her doubt Jon, but she would never trust the Ironborn over him.
“Everyone saw the way Jon looked. How completely out of his mind he was during
the whole feast, reeking of wine and stumbling all over the place. Your father
and brother did too. Robb even tried to get him to stop drinking, but to no
avail. And then those lords, after watching him embarrassing himself the whole
night, came up with the idea of a public bedding and challenged Lord Eddard to
the point he couldn’t refuse them.”
“Stop trying to turn this against Jon. Jon was as much a victim as was I.”
“Do you truly believe that? That he was a victim? I specifically recall him
moaning in lust draped over your body, while you lay there suffering through
it.”
“Don’t you dare claim to know anything about how Jon and I felt. You may have
been in the same room, but you have no idea what was actually happening between
us. How protective Jon was of me and how much he was suffering too.”
“I see he already has his hooks deep inside you. But that’s how our Jon is,
isn’t he? Always the charmer. Having all the girls lusting after him. Jon with
his pretty hair and his pretty eyes and his pretty lips.”
“What do you want, Theon? I don’t understand why you’re following me and
telling me all this,” Sansa said angrily, while her heart kept beating
furiously in her chest.
“Did Jon ever tell you how your father tried to get you out of the bedding? How
he asked Jon if he could perform in the state he was in, in front of the
others, hoping he would reply negatively, and how Jon said that he could?”
“That’s a lie. Why are you lying?”
“I’m not lying. Didn’t his highness tell you that?”
“Stop it, Theon. Leave me alone. This is not funny. Stop following me,” Sansa
yelled at him and then started walking again as fast as she could away from him
and towards her chambers.
“The reason your father asked me to be a witness was because he was worried not
only about the other witnesses, but about Jon as well. He thought that he
wouldn’t be able to handle himself with you. So did Robb. So did I. And that’s
why I agreed. Because they couldn’t, and someone needed to be there to protect
you in case something happened. So, if you want to be mad at me, fine. But at
least you need to know the whole story. You need to know why I agreed to do
what I did and why we all thought it necessary,” Theon kept talking, while
tailing right after her.
“Jon never hurt me. The only ones who did were the three of you with your
stupid ideas,” Sansa suddenly turned around and bit back through gritted teeth.
“So, the ones who actually tried to protect you are the bad guys? If it wasn’t
for Jon’s childlike behavior none of this would have happened. Jon wasn’t the
victim. He was the one who caused everything. I may have been only a witness
and can’t possibly know every little thing that was happening between the two
of you, but as a witness, I happen to know what the other witnesses thought and
talked about as well,” Theon said and Sansa looked at him uncomfortably.
“Now that I have your attention, you should know that what I’ve been saying is
not just an opinion. I heard them talk about it. I heard them say how they felt
as if Jon was mocking them. How they thought he was being disrespectful to his
Northern guests. Disrespectful to the very House that raised him and was now
trying to protect him. I heard them talk about how Jon was using you and he had
no intention of ever having a real marriage with you. Of how he was starting to
embrace his Targaryen side. They said he was just like his father, his real
one, once more playing with the lives of thousands of people,” Theon said
angrily, but then composed himself when he saw the tears that were forming in
Sansa’s eyes.
“I’m sorry, if it’s difficult for you to look at me, but I only did what your
father, brother and my own conscience compelled me to do. I only wanted to keep
you safe. I never looked at anything that would make you feel ashamed. I was
always either looking away or staring at Jon’s back. I never looked at your
body. You have to believe me. I just wanted to keep you safe… and I failed,”
Theon finished and looked like he was going to cry too. She had never seen
Theon in such a state and she couldn’t help but wonder, if it was all just an
act to manipulate her.
“Sansa, I know you and I have never been exactly close. That to you I’m just
someone who happens to live with your family, but- I want you to know that you
mean a lot to me and I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I’d
give my life first before I ever let that happen.”
“Theon, why are you saying these things to me? What do you want from me?” she
asked, hugging herself defensively and looking away from him, an odd feeling
creeping up her spine under his gaze.
“I could never presume to ask anything from you. But I can’t handle you hating
me like this. I tried to stay away like Jon asked me to do, but I couldn’t
anymore. When I saw you earlier, I had to talk to you. Apologize. Give you my
side of the story.”
“I don’t hate you, Theon. But this is very difficult for me.”
“I know… I know it is. Even though I can’t possibly relate, I’m sure it must
have been really hard for you. Going through all this.”
“It has…” Sansa agreed and then looked at her feet. Her anger had dissipated,
but she still felt like running away, as they both just stood there in silence,
not knowing what else to say, until suddenly Theon let out a humorless laugh.
“What?” she asked, confused by his reaction.
“Nothing, I just- I’ve never been more jealous of Jon than I am right now. I
mean, Jon and I have always been antagonistic with each other, but this has
been the biggest blow.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You. You’re a true lady and the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and I wish
I was worthy of you. I wish that I could be the one married to you instead of
Jon. I can’t wrap my head around how he got to have you, when he’s been your
brother our whole lives and you were the one thing I wanted that he was never
supposed to have.”
“What are you saying, Theon?” Sansa asked shocked, her voice barely making it
past her lips.
“I love you,” Theon blurted out.
“I have for a while,” he said and paused, looking at the ground.
“…but I never had the courage to express it. And now it’s too late. I got to
see Jon marrying and fucking the girl I love and now I get to see you falling
for him more and more with every day that passes and it breaks my heart.”
At his confession Sansa could do nothing but stare, as Theon started wiping
unshed tears from his eyes. What could she possibly say to this? She didn’t
feel like he was lying to her, but how could this be? When had it happened?
“I think you’re confused. This is just another one of your petty fights with
Jon. It has nothing to do with me. I’m just something you think you want,
because you can’t have me and Jon does.”
“No, Sansa. I promise. It’s not like that. I’ve been feeling this way long
before Jon’s parentage was revealed. Long before it was decided that you two
should marry.”
“Theon, I can’t- how-”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Forgive me, my lady. I’m not
expecting anything from you. I only wanted to ask for your forgiveness and now
I have. I’ll stay out of your way. I promise. Have a good day,” Theon said and
the whole time he was talking he resembled a scared animal looking for a way
out. And just like that he was gone, and Sansa was left staring at the empty
space he had left in his place, too shocked to move.
                                      ˜*˜
                                      Jon
It had been days since Jon had moved back to his chambers and he couldn’t shake
off the feeling that something was wrong. After that first night Sansa had not
returned to share his bed and Jon had not found the courage to ask her why that
was or visit her in her own chambers. Instead, the only thing he had managed to
do had been to become more miserable and broody than usual.
That morning he had woken up alone in his bed with her smell still lingering on
his pillow, along with a long auburn hair, and that had been the only proof she
had actually come to him and he hadn’t just dreamt the whole thing.
From one moment to the next she had started pulling away from him and Jon
couldn’t understand the reason behind the change in her behavior. As far as he
was concerned, they had made a lot of progress in their relationship and they
had become really close after their wedding. Her need to come share his bed
that night had been proof enough of that. But then everything had changed.
She no longer watched him while he practiced with Robb in the training yard,
like she had done so many times since their betrothal. She never visited him
anymore while he studied in the library under Maester Luwin’s supervision with
the rest of the boys. He had no idea how she was spending her days. The only
times he actually saw her were during their meals with the rest of the family,
and even though she was still choosing to sit right beside him, she was always
distant and silent.
At least their family seemed to appreciate things going back to normal and he
had actually managed to get back in Robb and Arya’s good graces. His brother
had been satisfied enough by his and Sansa’s distance and had stopped glaring
at him at every chance he got or trying to kill him every time they sparred,
without Jon having to do anything more to earn his forgiveness. Arya, of
course, was a whole different matter. It had taken going to Mikken and having a
sword forged for her, which she had then named Needle, and then promising her
to teach her how to swordfight to actually get her to talk to him again. But
ever since they had started their lessons, her usual smile had returned to her
face and they now seemed to finally be in a good place again, as long as
Sansa’s name never came up.
Arya was still angry with her sister, which made sense. Jon always knew that
when it came to Arya, he’d be forgiven long before Sansa, because the sisters’
relationship was always kind of tense. But at least he was glad that slowly
they all seemed to be getting over it and he was sure that eventually Arya
would forgive Sansa the same way she had forgiven him. His siblings meant the
world to him and it had been hell when they had been mad at him. However, if he
was honest with himself, he’d rather have Sansa talking to him than Robb or
Arya.
He just couldn’t understand what he had done wrong or when he had done it.
Could it be possible that her mother had finally gotten to her head and she was
now rethinking their marriage? No, it couldn’t be. It had to be something else.
Sansa had spoken often to him about how she didn’t and would never share her
mother’s opinion of him and Jon had believed her. He just had to figure out
what it was that was bothering her and he had every intention of discovering it
before her nameday came, which was now very close. So, he had to take matters
into his own hands and that was exactly what he did.
These days it seemed impossible for him to get her anywhere alone, but after
some plotting with her handmaid he had finally managed to trick her into going
to the glass gardens, where he waited for her, a winter rose already in his
hand.
“Jon?” Sansa muttered surprised, the moment her eyes fell on him.
“I was told Mother-”
“I know... Lady Stark isn’t here. I’m the one who sent for you. Here, this is
for you,” Jon said, coming closer to her to give her the rose.
“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” she said as she took it from his hand and brought
it to her face and smelled it.
“You’re welcome,” Jon said in return and stood there awkwardly watching her as
she carefully caressed the rose’s petals.
“I- I wanted to see you. We haven’t had the chance lately to spend any time
with each other, and I thought-”
“To trick me into meeting you here?” Sansa asked, a small smile playing on her
lips. Her voice didn’t sound accusatory, but it still made Jon want to
apologize to her.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have just asked-”
“Yes, you should have, but since we’re here…” Sansa interrupted him and then
started moving among the plants and roses that were all around them.
“Sansa?” Jon called her name then, staring at her back, as she took in
everything around her.
“Have I done something to hurt you? Is that why you’ve been so distant lately?”
Sansa stopped moving then and said nothing for a while.
“I- I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“What does that even mean, you don’t know?” Jon asked infuriated. She had been
keeping him at arm’s length this whole time and she didn’t even know the
reason? Quickly Jon composed himself, when he realized he had yelled at her.
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to shout. I just- I don’t understand what has
happened that made everything change between us all of a sudden. The night you
came into my chambers, I fell asleep the happiest man and the morning after
when I woke up everything had crumbled,” Jon said, coming behind her. He
couldn’t help but gather her in his arms, while he buried his face in her hair.
He had missed touching her like this.
“Please, just tell me what I did wrong and I’ll fix it,” he murmured in her
hair.
“You didn’t do anything. It’s all my fault,” she replied and then turned around
in his arms, coming face to face with him.
“Why?” was the only thing Jon could think of saying, as he caressed the sides
of her waist.
“That morning, I saw Theon-” Sansa started to say, but the moment the
Ironborn’s name rolled off her tongue, Jon was filled with fury.
“I’M GOING TO KILL HIM! WHAT DID HE DO? I TOLD HIM TO STAY AWAY-” Jon kept
yelling, while trying to get out of Sansa’s grip, who was the one holding him
in place now.
“No, Jon. It’s alright. I- He told me some things and I overreacted. He wanted
to apologize for what happened that night and explain to me why he agreed to be
a witness and it just… it brought back bad memories and somehow it affected me
and I felt the need to put some distance between us. I suddenly felt like
things were moving too fast. I realized that I had already started depending
too much on you and I didn’t know if it was the right thing to do,” Sansa
confessed and Jon felt his heart sink.
“Why wouldn’t it be? You’re my wife and I’m your husband. I want you to rely on
me. I want you to know that I can keep you safe and I will. No matter what.”
“He blamed you for the bedding. He said- he said Lord Manderly and Lord
Karstark only asked for a bedding with witnesses because of the way you behaved
during our wedding feast. He said he heard them talk about it,” Sansa answered,
while Jon stared at her.
“And do you believe him? Do you blame me as well? Is that why you wanted to
stay away from me?” Jon asked and he felt tears forming in his eyes. Sansa’s
words were only confirming what he had known all along. He had been lying to
himself, thinking that whatever he had done that night hadn’t mattered and that
it would have always turned out this way. But deep inside, he knew the truth.
And he knew Theon and Sansa were right.
“Maybe I do,” she replied, pulling him out of his thoughts and crushing his
heart in the process.
“But all this time I spent away from you made me realize I don’t care. I don’t
care, if it was your fault or not, because it brought us together and it’s all
I could have ever asked for. I just want to be with you and not think about
this any longer. And if you hadn’t plotted to get me here today, I would have
come to you,” she said and smiled at him, while Jon felt a smile of his own
forming on his lips.
“Do you mean that?” he asked, staring inside her eyes.
“I do. I missed you,” she said and then let her forehead lean against his.
“Sansa…”
“Mmmm…?” she murmured in return, her eyes closed, savoring the moment.
“I don’t think I can or want to stay away from you anymore. These past few days
I’ve missed you terribly and all I could think about was holding you in my arms
again,” Jon said, and to emphasize his point held her closer to him.
“I don’t think I can stay away from you either. I want us to be together, for
real,” she agreed and before she could add anything more, Jon claimed her lips
with his own in a kiss full of love and relief, while a single tear rolled down
his cheek.
“What are we going to do?” he asked her after the kiss was over, bringing his
forehead back against hers.
“I can’t handle anything like this happening ever again. Everyone here is
against us and I feel like it’s only a matter of time before someone else tries
to separate us. Your mother, Arya or Robb, if they find out we’ve decided to be
together as a true husband and wife, they’ll try to tear us apart again.
They’ve only calmed down, because we’ve been distant.”
“Then we won’t let them find out. It will be our secret. We’ll let them believe
what they want to believe, but we’ll live our life the way we want it. We’ll
just have to love each other in secret.”
“Does that mean that you love me?” Jon asked.
“I think I do,” Sansa answered shyly.
“I think I love you too,” he said back and this time Sansa was the one to
initiate the kiss and as her lips melted against his, all Jon could think was
that he would never let anyone or anything get between them ever again. Only
the winter rose Sansa was now holding between their bodies. The first flower he
had ever given her. A symbol of love. A symbol of their secret love.
Chapter End Notes
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Chapter Notes
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                                     Sansa
The day had just broke, when Sansa opened her eyes to the usual sight of her
bed’s canopy, like she had done hundreds of times before; and although there
was nothing exceptional or great about what she was looking at, she immediately
found herself grinning from ear to ear. Because this was not just another day.
It was a day that every year filled her, and the whole castle, with happiness.
Because during this day fourteen years ago the bells of Winterfell had rung
from sunset to sundown to celebrate her birth. Her nameday was always a joyous
event, but somehow she knew that this time around it was going to be even more
special. Because this was the first nameday she would celebrate as a wedded
woman and as Jon’s wife.
Ever since that day in the glass gardens, she and Jon were trying to be careful
with the way they acted around their family, in order to keep things between
them a secret. They didn’t want their family to know yet that they had decided
to give their marriage an actual chance and be a true wife and a true husband
to each other, because they were afraid of their reaction. So, even though they
had started to slowly explore their romantic feelings when it was just the two
of them, they still kept their distance when there was a family member around;
or anyone else really.
Sansa was aware, however, that Jon was getting more impatient with every
passing day. She could tell just by looking at him, every time they were in the
same room together, that all Jon wanted to do was come to her side and be free
to be with her the same way they had seen Father and Mother be a thousand
times. Even after all these years of being married, the Lord and Lady of
Winterfell shared a deep love people admired and were envious of, and they were
not shy to show how they felt, even though they were always proper about it, as
they should.
She had never known how sweet and loving Jon Snow truly was. But from the
moment when he had taken her in his arms in the glass gardens, while being
surrounded by the smell of hundreds of winter roses, and then when they had
shared their first true kiss, after confessing their feelings to each
other—without having anyone witness it or being affected by fever, not knowing
what they were doing, but with them both actually wanting it—he had never
stopped showing her how he felt and proving it to her with every chance he got.
Every time they were alone Jon would either hug her, or hold her hand, or kiss
her lips, always with adoration in his eyes that Sansa had never seen before.
She could not believe how quickly everything had escalated. From one moment to
the next they were both acting from distant siblings, who had nothing in
common, to fools in love, unable to stay away from each other for too long.
Sometimes, she could see the guilt behind Jon’s actions and she felt that the
reason he was always so agreeable to everything she wanted to do was what she
had confessed when their secret love affair had started. Even though she had
told him many times since then that she didn’t care anymore, and that even if
the bedding incident was indeed his fault, he was forgiven, Jon still blamed
himself and he was always trying to make it up to her by being more sweet and
always asking for her permission before he touched her, or did anything to her.
And while she appreciated him always being so chivalrous, she still needed him
to occasionally act like the wolf she knew was hiding inside him, that animal
side of him she had seen glimpses of during their wedding night.
If there was one thing even the presence of the lords and lady, as well as
Theon, couldn’t ruin during their first time together, was how good it had
felt, although scary, to have Jon’s weight on her body. To have his strong arms
around her, while feeling his hot breath on her neck and hearing his low growls
of passion in her ears. If it hadn’t been for them or for the pain caused by it
being her first time, she knew that she would have enjoyed it, and she was
hoping that she would get to actually experience it properly really soon.
The times when Jon’s hands or her own had wandered during their secret get-
togethers weren’t many, but every time it had happened, things had gotten out
of hand quickly and they had had to stop. Early on their agreement, Jon had
suggested they shouldn’t share a bed anymore, until they were truly ready. He
had said that now that they had decided to actually give a chance to their
marriage, he needed to court her properly, and he wouldn’t be able to do that,
if he had her in his bed every night; even though he had assured her there was
nothing he wanted more than to fall asleep and wake up with her in his arms.
He wanted their relationship to develop slowly and naturally and forget how
fast and abruptly it had started. And although Sansa had agreed and understood
what he meant by that, if Jon’s excitement every time things had gotten too far
was any indication—like it was the normal thing for any sixteen year old
boy—she still missed him terribly at nights and her bed often felt too empty,
when it was not occupied by Ghost and Lady, with the two wolves denying to
leave each other’s company, despite both of her and Jon’s efforts to get Ghost
back to Jon’s chambers with him. It seemed like their direwolves knew what was
right and they were doing what both their masters wanted to do themselves, but
couldn’t. Lately, especially, it had become more difficult for Sansa to accept
their agreement and she had had to often remind herself how dangerous it would
be for them to be discovered, if they started sleeping in the same bed again.
The one time she had sneaked into Jon’s chambers, she had gotten caught by
Theon and she really didn’t need a repeat of that experience.
Theon was yet another thing troubling her. The guilt she would sometimes see in
Jon’s eyes when he’d look at her, as a result of the blame he took for the
bedding, she knew was what Theon saw in hers. Somehow, his little confession of
being in love with her had filled her with guilt, and it hadn’t even anything
to do with the Ironborn. She felt guilty not because she was with Jon and
couldn’t reciprocate Theon’s feelings—she probably only felt sorry for him if
anything—but her guilt originated in her inability to tell Jon the whole truth.
Jon was already cross with Theon and she knew that if she told him about how
Theon claimed to be in love with her, it would not end well. And although she
was telling herself she was keeping it from him for the right reasons, she
still couldn’t help but feel bad about it. They were only married for a few
weeks now and the lies had already begun.
But these were all things that mattered during the regular days and she wasn’t
about to deny herself the chance to spend her first nameday married to Jon by
his side as much as possible. So, that was how she found her way into his bed
while the rest of the castle and Jon himself still slept.
“Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to stare?” Jon murmured in a husky from sleep
voice and a slight smirk on his lips, while keeping his eyes still closed.
Without realizing it, after crawling under the furs and into his arms, Sansa
had spent a great amount of time just staring at his face while he slept.
“How can you tell if I’m staring at you or not? You haven’t even opened your
eyes yet,” she told him, amused, feeling his hand starting to move up and down
her spine as he woke.
“I don’t need to open my eyes to know. You’re always staring, because you can’t
help how handsome you find me,” Jon said teasingly, while smiling, and Sansa
hit his chest playfully in retaliation.
“Hey,” he protested and laughed, as he caught her wrist to cease the attack,
locking his gaze with hers for the first time.
“I don’t think it is right to strike your husband,” he said and smiled sweetly
at her.
“It is, when my husband is being an idiot,” she retorted and then buried her
face in the crook of his neck, feeling her cheeks blush, as Jon pulled her
closer to him and continued caressing her back and her hair. She wasn’t used to
him calling himself her husband and she really liked how that sounded, coming
from his lips. That small word of her claim on him made her heart flutter and
the only thing better would be to hear him call her his wife.
“What a wonderful surprise this was. I wish I could wake up to this every
morning,” Jon muttered then, kissing her head, as she put her hand back down on
his chest, and he held it with his own, running circles over her skin with his
thumb. She was glad that he had decided to forego a sleeping shirt and she
could feel the warmth emanating from his body.
“Well, you could, if you’d choose to,” she answered wistfully, and she knew it
was unfair. Of course Jon wanted to, but it was his honor and his respect for
the family that kept him away.
“Maybe, but this is a special day, isn’t it?” he said, not sounding irritated
at all by what she had just told him.
“Oh? I didn’t notice. And what kind of special day would it be?” she asked,
feigning ignorance, as she started moving her hand across his chest, stroking
him lightly.
“It happens to be my wife’s fourteenth nameday, so you’d better get out of my
bed quickly, before she finds you here,” Jon replied and Sansa stopped her
caresses to strike him again. Jon only laughed and brought her even closer to
his body, hugging her tightly to him.
“Happy nameday, my love,” he said and then claimed her lips with his own in a
kiss.
“I wish I could spend the whole day here with you and do nothing else,” she
confessed after a few more moments of kissing.
“Me too… but it’s not really fair for the rest of the family who want to
celebrate with you,” Jon said and gave her another kiss on her lips.
“I know… you’re right. I just- I know I won’t be able to be with you the way I
want to, when we’re with them,” she admitted and she could see a small frown
form on Jon’s face. She knew that it was something that was bothering him too,
but he didn’t want to admit and make her unhappy, especially today. Their
arrangement wasn’t ideal, but it was better than having everyone mad at them
for doing what was the normal thing. Being a wife and a husband to each other.
“Well, it’s not that bad. There will be lots of lemon-cakes and everyone will
do whatever you want the whole day and give you lots of presents,” Jon said,
bringing her back from her thoughts.
“You’re right. I should probably get up then and go back to my chambers, before
Mother starts looking for me. She won’t like it, if she finds me here,” she
started teasing him, but soon realized the truth behind her words and sighed
deeply, before she brought her nose back to his neck and breathed him in,
enjoying his scent that was so purely Jon.
“No, not yet! Stay here… What am I supposed to do without you?” Jon mock-argued
and locked his arms around her, refusing to let her go. Sansa only laughed at
his reaction.
“I imagine whatever you were doing before I came in here.”
“I was sleeping, but I won’t be able to after you’re gone. It was already too
difficult before you came into my bed, wearing nothing but your night rail.”
“Why? You’re having trouble sleeping without me?” she asked amused, but buried
her face deeper in his neck and held him tighter, knowing exactly what trying
to sleep in an empty bed felt like. It hadn’t been that long since they had
started sleeping together and yet she couldn’t sleep alone in her bed anymore.
“Maybe… But I wasn’t the one coming here in the middle of the night, asking to
cuddle,” Jon said reminding her of that first night, after Jon had moved back
to his chambers.
“I didn’t ask to cuddle,” she protested and tried to pull back and glare at
him.
“And yet we cuddled all the same,” he said, laughing softly, as he cupped her
face with his hand. But then, his expression became serious again, as he stared
at her. First at her eyes and then at her lips.
“Jon?” she whispered unsure, her eyes moving of their own volition to his lips,
while biting her lower lip between her teeth.
“Hmm?” Jon murmured and gulped, never taking his eyes off her mouth.
For a while neither of them moved, but only looked at each other, breathing
heavily; until suddenly Sansa decided she had had enough and dived in to kiss
him, making them both melt into each other and moan with relief. It was nothing
like the soft kisses they had shared a few moments ago. Jon’s grip tightened
around her, as he pulled her closer to him, and Sansa straddled him, placing
one leg on either side of his hips.
With every passing moment, their kissing became more passionate and more
aggressive, as they both explored each other’s mouths, with their lips swelling
and their tongues fighting for dominance. Their hands were in each other’s hair
and their bodies were moving in rhythm with their kissing, and for the first
time in her life, Sansa could feel wetness pooling between her legs.
“Sansa…” Jon tried to say, drawing his lips back for a moment, before Sansa
claimed them again and tried to find some friction against his hardness that
she could feel over her smallclothes, pressing into her center for a while now.
She didn’t know what had come over her, but she felt unable to stop.
“Sansa… Sweetling…” Jon said again, as she rocked her hips against his own,
drawing a moan from his lips.
“We have to stop or I’ll…” he muttered, but did nothing of the sort. Instead he
let her continue rocking against him, placing his hands softly on her hips to
urge her on, until she felt him going limp beneath her, while he let out a
deeper moan and clutched her night rail.
“Jon…” Sansa moaned his name against his lips, their breaths mingling, when she
felt heat building within her.
“Keep going…” he murmured, his eyes closed and mouth open in ecstasy, before he
nuzzled her nose with his own.
“You’re almost there…” he said, caressing her hips softly over her night rail,
as she started chasing after an unknown feeling. And then, opening her mouth in
a soundless scream, she came, and it was everything she had imagined it would
be like and more.
“Thank you…” she whispered against his lips, when she was able to breathe and
speak again.
“Anytime…” Jon murmured back and smiled, before they resumed kissing lazily,
with their urges now sated, both moving to lie on their sides.
For a while they didn’t speak, but only looked at each other, after the kissing
had stopped.
“Jon?”
“What?” he asked softly, as they held hands between their bodies, and while he
kept staring at their intertwined fingers.
“I don’t know how long I can keep doing this hiding around thing. I want to be
with you and for everyone to know. We shouldn’t hide our love like we’re
ashamed of it,” she said and then his eyes met hers.
“There’s nothing I’m prouder of than being your husband, you know that.”
“I’m tired of not being able to sleep with you in the same bed and always
looking behind our backs to see if there’s anyone around, so we can kiss. We’re
married; we shouldn’t be going through all this.”
“What would you have me do? I just got everyone to talk to me again. Robb will
kill me, if we tell him.”
“No, he won’t. His problem was that he thought I lied to him about loving you.
Now, however, we’re both in love with each other, and it’s not a lie. Robb will
understand. He just wants us both to be happy.”
“You want me to talk to him?” he asked, lowering his eyes again to look at
their hands.
“No, I will. It’s about time. Besides, it’s my nameday. He won’t be able to
refuse me anything,” Sansa said and smiled.
“What about Arya?” he asked then.
“Ugh… maybe you should take care of that. I can handle Robb, but Arya is a
whole different matter. If it comes from me, she’ll only hate me more than she
already does. She needs to hear it from you to believe it.”
“Arya doesn’t hate you,” Jon defended their little sister, but stopped talking
when Sansa looked at him pointedly.
“Fine. What about Lady Stark? We all know whomshe hates.”
“Don’t worry about Mother. If our siblings and Father have our backs, she will
eventually accept it.”
“I won’t hold my breath till that happens.”
“Come on. She’s not that bad.”
“If you say so,” Jon said, his words full of sarcasm; but Sansa didn’t mind.
She knew her mother had been hard on Jon all his life and she continued to be,
even though she had no reason to anymore.
“I’m sorry. I promise she’ll change her mind when she sees how happy you make
me.”
“Really? I make you happy?” he asked and smiled, before pressing a kiss on her
nose.
“You know you do,” she replied and paused, burying herself in his arms.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier than when I am with you,” she confessed.
“Me neither,” Jon said back and closed his eyes.
“I should go back,” Sansa murmured, breathing in his scent.
“Yeah, you should…” Jon muttered back, but didn’t make a move to release his
hold on her, and Sansa didn’t feel like moving either. After that, silence
engulfed them and not much later so did sleep.
                                      ˜*˜
Robb had just returned from riding, when Sansa found him near the stables. At
first she felt nervous, but when his eyes caught hers and his face broke into a
smile, she forgot about everything; and so did Robb, as they started running
towards each other. A moment later, and he was lifting her up from the ground,
hugging her tightly to himself.
“Robb…” she muttered as she felt her eyes filling with tears, while she buried
her fingers in his auburn curls, and hid her face in the crook of his neck.
“Happy nameday, sweetling,” Robb said back and kept holding her like his life
depended on it.
“I’m so sorry, Robb. I’m so sorry I lied to you,” Sansa apologized, letting the
tears flow freely down her cheeks.
“No, Sansa. You have nothing to apologize for. I know you were only trying to
protect Jon. I’m the one who is sorry. I had no reason to get mad at you, but
you have every reason to be mad at me. I’m so sorry I didn’t do anything to
stop it. I should have put my foot down. By then I knew how you felt, and even
if I didn’t, it was wrong what they made you do. I shouldn’t have let Father
and the rest do what they did. I’m so sorry. I should have protected you,” Robb
told her, before he finally let her back down on the ground and looked at her.
He too had tears in his eyes.
“Robb, it’s not your fault. It wasn’t your doing, and there wasn’t anything you
could have done to stop it.”
“I could have tried harder,” Robb argued, but Sansa only smiled sadly at him
and wiped a tear away from his cheek, as his blue eyes that were the same shade
as hers stared back at her.
“Robb, can we go somewhere to talk, alone?” she asked him then, while looking
at the people around them, who were trying to act like they were minding their
own business and hadn't been staring at the two siblings' interaction a moment
ago. Robb looked concerned by her request, but after following her gaze, he
only nodded and followed her into the castle and then into the room Septa
Mordane usually used when she was teaching Arya and her how to embroider.
“What’s wrong, Sans?” he asked as he took a seat next to her on one of the
benches in the room.
“I… How are things between you and Jon?” she asked him back and saw the way he
grimaced.
“I don’t really want to talk about Jon.”
“I thought things were better between you two.”
“If you’re talking about the fact I haven’t murdered him yet, then sure. Things
are fine,” he replied sarcastically, and Sansa took his hand in her own.
“Robb, I don’t want you to be mad at him because of me. Jon is your best
friend. He’s always been your best friend.”
“Yeah, well, that was before-”
“No, he still is. Don’t deny you love him more than the rest of us. I know
you’re always acting protective of me, but Jon is the one who’s always been
your favorite.”
“He’s never been my favorite. I’ve always loved you all equally.”
“Alright, maybe you do love us all equally, but Jon has been more to you than
just a sibling, and I hate what this marriage has done to your friendship.”
“I hate what this marriage has done to you,” Robb said back angrily.
“Robb, I won’t lie to you. Not again. You know it and I know it that the
bedding was a terrible experience for both me and Jon, and perhaps a little
more for me, because I’m a girl, but it’s something I don’t hold against him,
and he has helped me get through. He’s really been there for me and you can’t
spend the rest of your life blaming him for it. He blames himself enough as it
is and he’s trying to make up for it.”
“How can he possibly make up for something like that?”
“He makes up for it by being sweet and kind to me and showing me every day how
much he values me and respects me.”
“What are you talking about? You’re not even talking to each other.”
“But we do. We only try to keep our distance for the sake of all of you,
because you’re having trouble accepting us,” Sansa admitted and lowered her
gaze to look at his hand inside of hers.
“Sansa… please don’t lie to me-”
“I’m not lying. Jon and I… we… we’ve decided to try and have a real marriage,
since the bedding ceremony ruined every possibility to have a fake one, and so
far, it’s been going well,” she said and Robb grimaced again, although he tried
to hide his disgust.
“What do you mean it’s been going well?” he asked after a moment.
“We’ve sort of… started developing feelings for each other, and exploring being
married to each other?” she answered awkwardly, but it sounded more like a
question.
“Exploring being married to each other?” he repeated and this time he couldn’t
mask his disgust.
“You know… after the bedding we couldn’t just go back to acting like siblings.
So, we tried to act like a… husband and wife would.”
“OH GODS!” Robb said dramatically, while hiding his face behind his hands.
“I’m sorry, Robb, I know this is awkward for you, but I can’t take it anymore.
Jon and I can’t keep pretending that everything is normal and as it used to be,
when it’s not. We’re married and for better or worse this marriage is real. We
consummated it and we want to make the best of it from now on.”
“Gods, Sansa… Jon is my brother and you are my sister.”
“But he’s not our brother… not really. You were understanding the last time I
told you I had feelings for him, even if it was a lie back then. Why can’t you
understand it now?”
“It’s a different thing knowing my sister has feelings for my brother I know
he’s never going to reciprocate than knowing you two FUCKeach other,” Robb said
exasperated.
“ROBB!” Sansa yelled at him scandalized.
“Don’t say it like that.”
“Oh, I’m sorry! Was that word not delicate enough for you? How do you think I
feel? Isn’t that what you meant when you said you wanted to have a ‘real
marriage’? Isn’t fucking the point of a real marriage?”
“If you’re going to be like that, I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” Sansa
said angry and embarrassed as she looked away, remembering what she and Jon had
been doing that very morning.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Robb, would it be better if I had married a stranger who mistreated me and
didn’t care about me?”
“No, of course not, but-”
“You know how marriages of convenience are. Just because Mother and Father fell
in love, it doesn’t mean all marriages turn out the same way. You know Jon;
you’ve known him all your life. Do you really think he would ever mistreat me
or hurt me? Jon is the nicest person I know, and I know you think so too.
That’s why you love him so much. And I know you’ll never stop seeing him as
your brother, but he’s not our brother and I won’t have you acting all
disgusted around us, when we kiss, or hold hands, or act married,” Sansa said
and started crying again. Robb stayed silent for a while and didn’t look at
her, but when he did, there was pain written all over his face.
“What’s wrong? There’s something else troubling you; I know there is,” she
added, forgetting about her own tears, and ran a comforting hand through his
curls.
“I hate that he’s not my brother. I can’t get over it. I’m mad at him for not
being my brother. I feel like I’m losing him; like I won’t be as important to
him from now on, because we’re only cousins now. We don’t share the same father
anymore. I know it might be a good thing, like for Mother, because she was
always hurt by him being here, knowing that Father had cheated on her, but for
me… having Jon as my brother has been the best thing.”
“Robb, Jon loves you very much. You’re never going to lose him. He will always
be your brother, no matter what. I know he feels for you exactly the same way
you feel for him, and he’s been just as afraid of losing you as you’ve been
afraid of losing him. He didn’t want you to know about us at first, because he
thought you were starting to forgive him and he knew you would only get mad
again. I don’t want to get between the two of you, but I can’t pretend anymore
I feel for him the same way you do. For me Jon is my husband and a cousin, and
I’ll never see him as my brother ever again. You are my brother. Bran is my
brother; and little Rickon too,” Sansa said as she kept caressing his hair.
“Will you talk to him? For me? Please?” she asked then and Robb nodded
reluctantly.
“I’m sorry, Robb. We had no idea you felt this way, but I promise nothing else
has to change. Jon loves you the same way he always did. You’re his favorite
person in the whole world.”
“I don’t know about that. Now he has you,” he said, but this time he didn’t
sound irritated, and Sansa knew things would go well, when he gave her the
faintest of smiles.
“Thanks, Robb,” she thanked him happily, smiling back at him, but when she
tried to stand up, a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach made everything
around her blur, and before she knew it, Robb was holding her upright against
his body.
“Sweetling, what’s the matter? Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?” he
asked her.
“I’m fine. I think I might have stood up too quickly, and I haven’t really
eaten much today,” Sansa reassured him, as she felt her senses coming back to
her.
“Well, then, I have just the right thing for you. I might have smelled some
lemon-cakes being baked in the kitchen earlier. What do you say? Shall we go
eat some?” he asked and Sansa agreed eagerly, before Robb led her out of the
room, holding onto her, just in case she got dizzy again. It wouldn’t really be
her nameday until she had her lemon-cakes.
                                      ˜*˜
                                      Jon
It had been a long time since he had last seen Sansa acting so careless and
happy. She and Robb were swirling around the floor, dancing and laughing with
each other, as everyone around them were having a great time. Even though she
had danced during their wedding feast too, the way she carried herself now and
the huge smile on her face resembled nothing from that night. She was genuinely
happy and it wasn’t just an act for the people around her; and the rest of the
family seemed to share her high spirits. For one night, in honor of Sansa’s
nameday, everyone had put all their troubles behind them and were acting like a
happy family again. And when Robb had come up to him and had hugged him tightly
earlier, he had felt his own heart swell with happiness.
Robb knew, and he still loved him and supported him. Sansa had told him, and
Robb had accepted it. He only wished he could have done the same with Arya, as
he had promised Sansa. But he had been reluctant to do it today. He had been
afraid that Arya might not take it well, and considering her young age, he
didn’t know how she could react, and he’d hate to ruin Sansa’s nameday. So, he
had put it off, and had been at least glad to see his little sister wishing
Sansa for her nameday, after weeks of not talking to her.
He had decided that he would not drink this time. He wanted to remember every
single moment of this night and he had promised himself that he would never
embarrass Sansa ever again because he couldn’t keep it together. But as he got
up to ask Sansa’s hand from Robb for a dance, he wished he had had at least one
cup of liquid courage. Sansa’s smile, however, and Robb’s approving pat on his
back had vanquished his fears as he took his place in front of her, took her
hand in his own and placed the other one around her waist—like he should have
done at their wedding feast.
Sansa was radiant tonight and he couldn’t take his eyes off her, as they
danced. It was the first time he felt Lady Stark glaring at him and didn’t
care. Dancing with Sansa on her nameday was worth every single glare he
received, whether it was coming from Sansa’s mother, Arya—although those were
mostly directed towards Sansa—Theon, and even Jeyne Poole for some reason.
Sansa and Jeyne hadn’t been talking lately, and he didn’t know what that was
about, but he was prudent enough not to get caught up in a girl fight. He had
enough problems as it was.
“Jon,” Sansa whispered to him as they danced. She looked shy all of a sudden.
“What is it, my love?” he asked her, whispering back. This was a moment between
them and he didn’t want anyone else to hear. Other dancers had joined them on
the floor as well, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Theon dancing
with Jeyne, and Robb with Arya.
“I have a surprise for you,” she said then, biting nervously her lower lip, as
they kept swinging and turning.
“A surprise for me? I’m the one who should be surprising you. It’syournameday,
not mine. I haven’t even given you my gift yet,” he told her and smiled.
“I think you already have… The greatest gift you could have possibly given me,”
she said back and Jon looked at her confused.
“What do you mean?” he asked, but when Sansa was about to answer, a voice was
heard from the distance. A man came running into the Great Hall and the music
and voices immediately died down around them.
“Lord Stark,” he yelled, looking at his father. He was wearing all black,
looking like he hadn’t bathed in a while, and Jon immediately knew this man was
a sworn brother of the Night’s Watch. Suddenly, he felt fear crawling up his
spine.
Uncle Benjen, he thought and held Sansa tighter against his body.
“What is the matter? What are you doing here? Who are you?” Father asked, as he
got up from his seat at the high table.
“My name is Yoren, milord. I’m bringing news from the Watch and your brother,”
the man replied.
“What news? Did something happen to Benjen?” his father asked, looking worried,
and everyone waited anxiously for the man’s answer.
“He went beyond the Wall weeks ago, milord, and he hasn’t returned yet. We sent
scouts after him, but the only thing they found was part of a dead man’s arm.
Something is happening beyond the Wall, and the men are too afraid to go,
’cause there’s too few of us left. I’m the one responsible for bringing in new
recruits; so, I’ve come to ask for your help; for the Watch and your brother,”
Yoren said and the happy and positive atmosphere from before was gone.
***** The Decision *****
Chapter Notes
     Thanks for the continuing support! Here's another chapter. I hope you
     enjoy it!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                     Sansa
They were all gathered in Father’s solar and Sansa could feel her heart
pounding in her chest as she watched everyone pacing nervously around the room,
while arguing about what should be done. Jon was the only one who was silent,
sitting beside her and holding her hand in his own, occasionally drawing
comforting circles with his thumb over her skin.
She was frightened, and she knew Jon could feel it. It was the reason he
remained glued to her side, grounding her and solacing her, despite her mother
and Arya’s often stares coming their way. She knew that if it wasn’t for the
dire situation they were all in, they would make a deal out of it later; but
now they both looked just as worried as she was to really care about her and
Jon, while the rest kept talking of the best course of action, regarding her
uncle and the Watch.
Everything had been going so wonderfully and she had been so happy just moments
ago. Now she could only feel dread and despair. Their uncle had disappeared,
and Father was now talking about leaving Winterfell with Jory and a few select
others to go look for him. But what Yoren had said, the man who had brought the
news from the Watch, had sounded so ominous. He’d said something was happening
beyond the Wall, and Sansa was certain it wasn’t the wildlings he was referring
to. He talked about finding an arm that belonged to somebody who had already
died, and suddenly, Old Nan’s scary tales that Bran was always so fond of
started running through her mind. Tales of the Long Night and the White
Walkers. Creatures so evil and horrid that belonged only in nightmares. What if
it was Uncle Benjen, the dead man missing an arm? What if Father went and never
returned? They would then have to mourn them both. She desperately needed to
know of her uncle’s whereabouts and of what had happened to him; but she wasn’t
willing to lose her father over it, and at the realization she felt horrible
for even thinking it. Both for Uncle Benjen and for Jon.
Although Jon already had a father, and it was a mother’s love he lacked and
needed the most, Uncle Benjen had always been the most supportive in Jon’s
life—even more so than Father—and when it came down to it, their uncle was
pretty much a second paternal figure for Jon, instead of only an uncle. He had
never held back from showing how much he favored Jon among all his nephews and
nieces, not caring about Jon’s status or the way he was perceived by others
because of it; something even Robb, who was Jon’s best friend, was guilty of.
Robb and Jon, as long as she could remember, had both been very aware of their
differences. They both knew who the heir was and who the one with not much to
long for was; and a few times, for the sake of boys’ antagonistic nature, Robb
had not refrained from rubbing it in; like her mother had never failed
reminding it to either of them.
So, much like Jon, Uncle Benjen, albeit legitimate himself, had grown up
knowing he was only the brother to the heir of Winterfell; first to their Uncle
Brandon and then to Father. Because of it, he was probably the one person in
their entire family and Winterfell, old enough to really understand Jon’s
struggles. Even though her uncle was none of those things, and he had made a
great name for himself, serving in the Watch, he understood the weight of being
a bastard and an outsider. He had even surrounded himself with such people,
choosing a life of solitude, brotherhood, and duty; never to have a family or a
wife of his own. Which is what led Sansa to believe her uncle sometimes wished
Jon was his. If Jon had been her uncle’s instead of Aunt Lyanna’s, things would
have been so much easier for the both of them, and her uncle had seemed to know
that, even if he used to believe Jon was her father’s.
Jon, for his part, had always looked up to him and had often talked of becoming
a brother of the Night’s Watch like him. Uncle Benjen had made it look like a
noble and honorable cause, and Sansa knew Jon probably thought that with him
being a bastard and all, serving in the Watch could be the only way to achieve
honor and glory. After meeting Yoren, however, and after the conversation that
followed, which led to learning what had now become of the Watch, she knew it
was not true, and she was glad Jon never had to become a Night’s Watch brother;
not only because she got to be with him, but because of the life they lived.
Yoren was nothing like Uncle Benjen. He was old and filthy, and although
polite, it was obvious he was illiterate. Sansa could bet he even had lice. She
couldn’t see anything honorable about living a life like that, and it made her
feel sorry for her uncle. But that hadn’t always been the case.
Not too long ago, even Sansa herself had been glad at the prospect of Jon
joining the Watch. In the songs, the Night’s Watch brothers were called the
black knights of the Wall, and she remembered that despite the fact she and Jon
hadn’t been close, she had been happy that in a way he too could become a
knight, like their little brother, Bran, who often dreamed of serving in the
kingsguard.
Even the first boy she had liked had been a brother of the Night’s Watch. Ser
Waymar, son of ‘Bronze’ Yohn Royce of the Vale, had been a handsome youth, who
had made her heart flutter for the very first time, when he had ridden north to
take the black. Back then, she had even thought she was in love. But that had
been before she knew what true love was. Before she and Jon had started falling
for each other. It wasn’t that long ago and yet it seemed like a lifetime had
passed since then. The life before Jon’s parentage was revealed, back when she
had thought of him only as her half-brother, felt like it wasn’t her own
anymore.
She was a completely different person now. She had changed so much even from
when she had first agreed to sacrifice herself and marry Jon. Although, it
hadn’t been really a sacrifice. Back then, albeit wanting to keep Jon
safe—which truly was the priority for her, whatever anyone else might have
thought—she had also seen their marriage as an opportunity for her to rise; to
finally become a princess like she had always dreamed of and a future queen.
Jon had even accused her of that, seeing through her machination, because he
couldn’t understand why she cared so much all of a sudden, when not too long
ago their relationship had felt nonexistent. However, it hadn’t been
nonexistent. It had just been weighed down by guilt because of her mother, and
in a way she was glad for it. Because if she had thought of him all along as a
true brother, like Arya did, she never would have been able to feel for him the
way a wife feels for her husband.
But after becoming free to love him and after going through so much by his
side, she didn’t care anymore about any of the things that had excited her at
first. She didn’t want Jon to become a prince or a king. For her Jon was and
always would be just Jon from now on. She only wanted everyone to be safe and
for her family to accept them. She wanted for them to spend the rest of their
lives in Winterfell, with Robb and her parents and the rest of the family,
raising their children alongside them.
At the thought of children, she placed a protective hand on her belly. If her
father went beyond the Wall and never returned, he’d never get to meet his
grandchild. He’d never get to know that what she had blamed him for and what
she had thought of as the worst night of her existence had blessed her with the
greatest gift in any woman’s life. The joy she had felt that afternoon, when
Maester Luwin had told her he was more than certain she was with child had been
unimaginable.
She had never thought it could happen so soon and she had only wanted to
appease Robb’s worry, when she had agreed to go see the Maester. And then
Maester Luwin had started asking her about her moon blood and of the last time
she had had it. Before the wedding, Sansa had only bled once—when she had
flowered, during the days of her sickness—so it hadn’t been really in her mind;
and now it seemed she wouldn’t get her moon blood for some time.
Suddenly, the prospect of losing Father made her realize how pointless all this
anger she had been harboring towards him since the day of her and Jon’s wedding
was. She was terrified. She was so scared of losing him that she wanted to run
to him and climb on his lap, curl herself into a small ball and cry, like she
used to do when she’d been a little girl. Earlier, she couldn’t wait to tell
Jon about the babe and now all she could think of was the dangerous world she
was about to bring it into.
“…My lord, you know I’d give my life for you without second thought, but it’s
dangerous for you to go beyond the Wall with so few men. We should ask the
other Houses for help. It hasn’t been that long since they’ve been here,
drinking and eating all of our food, and this concerns them as much as it does
us. I know finding Benjen is the priority, but if something is really going on
beyond the Wall and the Night’s Watch brothers are unable to deal with on their
own, then the whole North should try and help them,” Jory Cassel said, pulling
Sansa from her thoughts and bringing her back to the present, where all the
arguing continued.
“No. I don’t want to send an army up there. An army would attract too much
attention. I don’t want to be the cause of war between the North and the
Wildlings, when we don’t have the men to spare. Soon, we might have to fight in
a different war, and Winterfell needs all its men for its protection. Fifteen
men should be enough to arrange a search party for Benjen. I’m sure some of the
Night’s Watch brothers will agree to accompany us as well. If the need arises,
we will send more men and ask for help, but for now, when we go beyond the
Wall, we need to be inconspicuous,” her father said back, and Sansa tightened
her grip on Jon’s hand.
“I agree with you, my lord. We should not attract too much attention up there.
The North doesn’t have the men to fight two wars; but perhaps you should
consider not going yourself. If something happens and you are lost to us,
there’s no guarantee that the other Northerners will stay true to their word.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Robb will be a wonderful leader and ruler when the
time comes—I’ve trained him myself and I know the kind of man he is—but the
other Houses swore their allegiance to you, and I don’t think they would think
kindly of bowing down to a boy of sixteen, when they barely agreed to help you.
A tested leader and warrior. This thing with Jon has made them suspicious and
distrustful of House Stark, and I hate to say it, but I don’t trust their
loyalty in these perilous times. Look what they made Jon and Sansa go through,”
Ser Rodrik Cassel, Winterfell’s Master-at-Arms, stressed and Sansa felt a
shiver go through her body at the mention of her name. It was common knowledge
what had happened between her and Jon, but it was the first time she was
hearing anyone talking about it so outwardly and loudly, in front of everyone.
But then again, Ser Rodrik had never been a man to hold back his words, when
the situation demanded of him to take a stand.
“So, what? You expect me to just sit here within the safety of my castle’s
walls and not look for my brother? Let him perish? I’ve lost too many of my
siblings already. I’m not going to lose another and do nothing about it,” her
father argued, as everyone’s attempts to keep him from going seemed to fail.
“I promise you, my lord, we’ll do everything within our power to find him. We
won’t give up. I’ll go myself. But you need to stay here for the sake of the
rest of your family,” Ser Rodrik reassured him and insisted, but before her
father had the chance to protest again, Sansa felt Jon’s hand leaving her own
and heard him speak for the first time since they’d come to Father’s solar, as
he got up.
“I’ll lead the search party to find Uncle Benjen,” he announced, his voice
steady and determined, while everyone stared at him. At the sound of his words,
Sansa thought her heart might leap out of her chest from fear.
“Jon, don’t be ridiculous. Youespecially, out of everyone, aren’t going
anywhere. You know there are people who want you dead out there,” her father
said then, and like always it was cruel to hear that anyone would ever want to
harm Jon.
“I’ve done nothing but hear you talk this whole time about risking your life
for Uncle Benjen and us. How can you expect me to stay here, hidden away like a
frightened little boy, when everyone else, even those who don’t want to, are
risking their lives for me? You know what Uncle Benjen means to me. You know
what you and the rest of this family mean to me. How can you expect me to ask
for your protection, to ask these men to risk their lives for me, if I’m not
willing to do the same? The only reason we’re in danger of having to fight a
war with Robert Baratheon is me.”
“Jon—”
“No, Robb. Father, it’s been weeks since you told me the truth about my mother.
I know you swore a vow to her to keep me safe, and you have; your vow is now
fulfilled. I’m a grown man and it’s not up to you anymore to keep me hidden
away and protect me. My life isn’t worth more than Jory’s or Ser Rodrik’s or
any other Northerner’s. If you want the rest of the Houses to start respecting
House Stark again; if you want them to truly know where my loyalties lie, it’s
not a wedding and a bedding that will convince them. They’ll be convinced only
when they see me fight alongside them. When they see me fight for the sake of
the North. And what better way is there, to start proving them I’m a real Stark
than go look for Uncle Benjen? The Starks have always taken an interest in the
Night’s Watch, so whatever danger they’re facing now, even without thinking of
Uncle Benjen, I want to help them.”
“So, you’re just going to leave your wife, and march to Castle Black, then?”
Father asked exasperated, pointing towards Sansa, who brought her arms
defensively in front of her belly. She was feeling paranoid that everyone would
know her secret when they looked at her, before she met Maester Luwin’s eyes
with her own and her fear intensified. She had asked the Maester not to say
anything, wanting to surprise Jon first out of everyone. But now she wasn’t
sure if she should anymore. Jon wanted to leave, and he hadn’t even thought of
what that would do to her. He sounded like his honor was much more valuable
than his own life, when for her he was like the sun a flower needed to survive.
Spoken like a true Stark, she thought bitterly about Jon. Suddenly it wasn’t a
grandparent she needed to worry her child would never get to meet, but it was
its own father. Damn the Starks and their honor.
“Sansa will be safe here and she’ll be fine without me for a little while. I
can’t say the same for Uncle Benjen, though.”
“Jon, you’re only sixteen. The lands beyond the Wall hold dangers you can’t
comprehend.”
“Before I knew the truth, I wanted to join the Watch and you were going to let
me. I know you were. You told me as much. How is this any different, especially
when Uncle Benjen’s life is on the line? I was fourteen when I first told you I
wanted to take the black. Boys even younger than that have joined the Watch
before.”
“This is different. When they didn’t know who you were, nobody would have cared
enough to try and hurt you. You would be just another bastard in their eyes. A
bastard, however, who came from a respectful line. You were unimportant enough
to not get attention to yourself and important enough that even if you did,
they still wouldn’t dare challenge you. And I knew that if you went to the
Watch, Benjen would be there to look out for you. They wouldn’t let you be a
ranger until you were trained properly and old enough to go beyond the Wall.
Benjen and I had already had an agreement when I told you I was considering
letting you go. Now Benjen is gone and nothing is the same.”
“I won’t change my mind. You don’t have the right to stop me. I’m a grown man
and if I decide to go, I will,” Jon said stubbornly and with finality in his
voice and Sansa only now felt the tears staining her cheeks.
“You might be a grown man and I not your father, but I’m still your lord and
you will obey what I tell you,” Father responded angrily.
“I’ll go with him,” Robb added all of a sudden, interrupting the argument, and
when she looked at him it wasn’t Father or Jon he was looking at, but her. It
was like he was telling her, I’m doing this for you, little sister, don’t
worry.
“Robb—” her Mother shouted then in protest.
“It will be safer, if we both go. Keep an eye on each other. And I too want to
help find Uncle Benjen. Ser Rodrik is right, Father. You can’t go and we can’t
just sit here and send our soldiers and expect them to risk their lives for our
family. No one is going to challenge Jon with me by his side. I trust our men
with my life and I know they’ll keep us both safe. But every moment we stand
here, arguing about it is another moment Uncle Benjen remains lost,” Robb said,
and Sansa saw Jory and Ser Rodrik nodding their heads both in agreement and
pride of Robb, before she met Maester Luwin’s gaze again and hurriedly looked
away.
She knew that if she spoke up now and told Jon about their child, out of
obligation, he would stay back with her, and the Maester was looking at her
like he expected her to do this very thing. But Sansa decided to show maturity
instead, and put Jon’s needs above her own. Jon was a kind and honorable man,
and she never wanted to try and tie him to her by adding to his guilt. He had
the need to show to everyone who was doubting him the brave and respectful man
he truly was, and even though it frightened her and pained her, she had to let
him do it. Ever since Jon had learned the truth, he had done nothing but feel
sorry for himself, and this was an opportunity for him to cease this kind of
thinking—and, of course, she wanted Uncle Benjen saved just as much as he did.
It saddened her to remember he had been the one to stand by Jon when they were
wedded under the heart tree and yet she’d been so ready earlier to disregard
him.
“Very well, then. If this is your final decision, I consent. I wasn’t that much
older than you, when I had my first real fight. This will be a fine lesson for
the both of you, but know this; an expedition beyond the Wall is nothing like
sparring in the training yard. Ser Rodrik and Jory will lead our men. Not you.
You will listen to your elders and you won’t do anything unnecessarily stupid.
You will remain close to each other. Remember that when the snows fall and the
white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives,” her father said
finally, after a few moments of silence. She could do nothing more now than
pray to all the Gods, old and new, for Jon, Robb, and Uncle Benjen’s health and
their safe return.
                                      ˜*˜
                                      Jon
The next morning, the first snow of the season had begun to fall, as Jon stood
in the courtyard, watching the others getting their horses ready for the
journey to Castle Black. When he started heading towards his own horse,
however, to make sure everything was alright, before he had to bid Sansa and
the rest of the family farewell, he saw her hugging Robb near the castle’s main
entrance and changed his course. The moment her eyes met his, a sad smile
formed on her face and after giving Robb a last gentle pat on his back and a
kiss on his cheek, she left her brother’s side and she too started walking
towards Jon, until she met him halfway.
“Hey…” he muttered as he hugged her tightly to him and then gave a gentle but
lasting kiss on her forehead. He knew they were being watched, but he didn’t
really care. He wouldn’t get to see her for many days, maybe even weeks, and he
needed to be as close to her as he could for as long as he still could, before
they had to leave.
“Hey,” she said back, and tried to hide her sadness by smiling broader at him.
“So, are you ready? Will you be leaving soon?” she asked.
“Sansa, you understand why I have to do this, don’t you?” he asked her in
return, instead of answering. The previous night she had been really supportive
of him when they had been finally left alone, and had decided to sleep together
in her chambers for the first time in weeks. They’d known no one would dare say
anything, considering he would be leaving the next day, so he had taken full
advantage of it and had held her in his arms all night and had kissed her until
they had no more air left in their lungs. But now, as he watched her looking
sadly at him, he didn’t know if she actually understood the reason behind his
decision to leave. It hadn’t been his intention to hurt her, but he had to go,
for Uncle Benjen. Maybe even for his own sanity.
“I do. I’m just worried. Promise me you and Robb will be careful. I couldn’t
bear it, if anything happened to either of you,” she said, taking a step back
to really look at him.
“I promise. We’ll have each other’s backs. Nothing will happen. We’ll find
Uncle Benjen and we’ll be back before you know it,” he reassured her, before
his eyes fell for the first time on the piece of garment she was holding.
“What’s this?” he asked her, pointing at it.
“It’s for you. It’s a cloak I’d started making during the days I was held up in
my chambers because of my illness. I finally finished it a few days ago, but I
never really got the chance to give it to you. It’s like the one Father has.
Now with you going beyond the Wall, I thought I’d be appropriate to give it to
you to keep you warm,” she replied and handed it over to him. Jon felt his
heart swell with pride and love for his wife.
“Thank you, Sansa. I love it,” he said, and then remembered her cryptic words
during the feast on her nameday.
“Is this the surprise you were talking to me about?” he asked, smiling at her.
Sansa avoided his gaze for just a moment, but then smiled back and nodded.
“And what about this great gift I’ve given you?”
“You are the great gift. Being able to dance with you last night on my nameday
made me really happy,” she answered and Jon pulled her in for a kiss, as soft
snow kept falling around them.
“Well, I do have one more gift for you, however,” he said then, pulling back to
look at her, before he reached inside the small side pocket of his doublet and
afterwards presented her with her gift. He was glad to see her eyes shine when
she looked at it. It was a necklace in the shape of a rose made out of silver
with a few small blue stones of no real value to complete its decoration.
“I had it made for you for your nameday during my last visit at Winter town, so
that every time you look at it, you’ll remember the day we first said ‘I love
you.’ It’s not much, but I thought you might like it.”
“It’s perfect,” she answered with tears ready to fall from her eyes, taking it
from his hand and placing it around her neck. When he saw it on her, he knew he
had made the right choice.
“I’m really happy you like it,” he said, taking her again in his arms, while
letting her bury her face in his chest.
“I’ve kept the rose from that day, just so you know,” she whispered to him and
he hugged her even tighter.
“I love you,” he told her and closed his eyes.
“I love you too,” he heard her say back.
Chapter End Notes
     I know some of you begged me not to do this, however, it's really
     important for the development of the characters and the story I'm
     trying to tell. Also I feel like it wouldn't be like Jon, if he
     decided to sit back and relax while all of this was happening!
     I'd like to apologize for not replying to your comments in the last
     chapter. It was mostly because of things you had already correctly
     guessed and also because I didn't want to give anything more away.
     I'd really like to read your thoughts on this chapter as well! Thank
     you all for reading! XOXO
***** The Wall *****
Chapter Notes
     Thank you guys so much for reading and helping me reach 1000 kudos!
     You are the best! XOXO
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                     Sansa
It had been close to two weeks since Jon and Robb’s departure, when Sansa woke
up to a sick feeling to her stomach and ran to vomit inside her chamber pot. Up
until now, she had managed to keep her condition a secret from her mother and
the rest of the family, with everyone being busy worrying about her brother and
Jon, but with every day that passed, she knew it was only a matter of time
before they figured it out and she started to show. At least Maester Luwin had
respected her wishes to keep it a secret, and had let her decide on her own
when it would be the best time to make the reveal. But now that her morning
sickness had already begun, she knew she would have to tell them soon, because
there would be no other way to explain her symptoms.
“My lady?” Sansa heard her handmaid, Mina, speak. She had not heard her enter,
being preoccupied with emptying her stomach inside her chamber pot, but the
girl, a couple years older than her and closer to Jon and Robb’s age, had
clearly been standing by her bed for a while now, staring between her and the
pot on the floor.
“Are you alright?” she asked concerned, and Sansa didn’t know if it was just
her being paranoid or the guilty look she threw the girl’s way, but she could
already see the wheels turning inside her head, when suddenly Mina met her eyes
shocked.
“I’ll get Lady Catelyn,” was the only thing she said, before she fled the room,
leaving Sansa on her knees, cursing herself for not having the courage to tell
her mother earlier and on her own terms.
“Sansa,” she heard her mother call her name, a few moments later, just after
she was done washing her mouth and hands at the small basin she had in her
chambers.
When she turned to look at her, her mother had an unreadable expression on her
face.
“It’s nothing, Mother. I’m fine,” Sansa answered, before Lady Catelyn had the
chance to ask her anything, as she moved to take her dress from the chair by
the fireplace to get changed for the day.
“When were you going to tell me?” her mother simply asked. Sansa didn’t show
any sign of hearing her question as she took the dress in her hands.
“Maester Luwin was with me, when Mina came to find me. He’s already confirmed
it, so please at least have the courtesy to not lie and deny it.”
Sansa sighed deeply, before she sat at the chair, clutching the dress in her
hands, after laying it in her lap.
“I wanted to tell you,” she said and paused.
“I really did. I just didn’t know how you would take it. And with Robb leaving,
I didn’t want to worry you or upset you more.”
“You were trying to spare my feelings? Isn’t it a little late for that? You
have already sided with him. I’ve seen you two together. Don’t think I haven’t
noticed the way you two look at each other and behave around each other. I’ve
been in love myself to recognize it when I see it in other people.”
“Then you can also understand why I’ve been so hesitant to tell you. I know how
you feel about him, Mother,” Sansa answered, meeting her mother’s eyes.
“Was it that first night? Or have you lain with him again?” Lady Catelyn asked,
and Sansa found herself blushing uncontrollably.
“I… I got with child that night, but I have done other… things with him since
then,” she answered truthfully, while remembering the morning of her nameday,
when he had made her peak for the first time.
“So, I guess this means you have forgiven him for exploiting you and using you
for his advantage. For humiliating you.”
“Jon has never done anything like that. This marriage has been just as
difficult for him as it has been for me. Iagreed to help him. None of this is
his fault,” Sansa was quick to defend him.
“And now you are going to bear his child. At fourteen.”
“I’m a married woman. There is nothing wrong with that.”
“You are nothing but a child. And children are not supposed to bear other
children. You know nothing of this world, Sansa. How cruel it can be. Tell me,
what will happen to you after Robert Baratheon gets his hands on him? How can
you even be certain that Jon Snow will return from this foolish mission he has
gone to, dragging Robb along with him? What do you think will happen to you and
your child, when people find out about this? Do you think that because it’s
going to be named Stark, Robert Baratheon will spare its life? If it’s a son,
his life will always be in danger, because just like Jon Snow, it will have a
claim on the throne.”
“Jon is not interested in the throne and neither am I. We just want to live our
lives together. I love him, Mother, and he loves me, and having a family with
him is the best thing I could ever hope for.”
“What you and Jon want and what potential other people see in you are two
completely different things. You are not a peasant, Sansa. There is power in
both yours and Jon Snow’s blood. The mere threat of him and this child are
enough for any king to want them dead,” her mother said and Sansa looked at her
scared.
“You think I hate Jon Snow, and I admit that for a long while I have hated him,
and there are moments when I wish I could go back to those days of ignorance,
back when I thought he was merely my husband’s bastard son, and the only thing
he was a threat to was my children’s place in this castle, because of the
affection your father had for him. But now it’s even worse than that. There is
a reason why I’m still so angry with him, even if you feel like I shouldn’t
anymore. He scares me. I don’t hate him, but he scares me. His very existence
is a threat to my children’s life. He is a threat to your life more than anyone
else’s, because you are now linked to him. I understand your need to have a
family, Sansa. But having Jon’s child endangers everything, and most of all
you,” Lady Catelyn said, and Sansa found herself touching her belly
protectively.
“This child is innocent. No one would dare harm it,” she told her mother
stubbornly, as she felt tears coming to her eyes.
“Jon was innocent too. He was only a babe, and yet your father made sure he was
kept hidden to protect him. He decided to dishonor himself and me in order to
keep him a secret from his best friend. He couldn’t even trust his best friend.
Do you know what that must be like? He couldn’t trust the man he grew up with
as a brother more than anything else, the man he fought a war for, and helped
win a throne for. And now look at them. Your father was right all along. Robert
wants us all dead, because he can’t stand the thought of Jon’s existence.”
“This is different. This child is a Stark. It’s not a Targaryen.”
“I dare say that makes it even more dangerous, because it can be seen both as a
threat and as hope. A lot of people blame the Targaryens for what they’ve done
in this land. For all the wars and the destruction they’ve caused. Look at what
the Northern lords did to you, because they thought they couldn’t trust Jon.
But the Starks had always had the rumor of being honorable and good, and a lot
of people have put their faith in them in the past. So, how would the realm see
a child that has direct claim to the throne, but is also nothing like the
vicious Targaryens with their dragons, and bears the Stark name? A family known
to care for their people,” her mother said, and Sansa felt a tear roll down her
cheek.
“I won’t let anyone harm my babe. I will protect it with my own life, if I have
to,” she said and brought both her arms in front of her, creating a protective
wall for her babe, suddenly feeling more scared than ever. Until this day, she
had only thought of this child as a blessing, but now she knew that with that
blessing came grave danger.
“Let us hope you won’t have to, then,” her mother muttered and then knelt in
front of her, wiping the tears that had fallen from Sansa’s eyes.
“Do you think Jon and Robb will be alright? That they’ll come back to us, and
bring Uncle Benjen back too?” Sansa asked her then, as her mother placed a hand
on her knee and caressed her long auburn hair with the other, comforting her.
“We can only pray that they do. They all still have a lot to live for,” she
answered and smiled sadly at her, adding a protective hand on her arm, while
Sansa kept them both in front of her stomach.
“They do,” Sansa agreed returning the small smile. “Let us pray to both the Old
Gods and the New for their safe return.”
“Yes. Let’s pray,” Lady Catelyn said back. It was the first time in a long
while that Sansa felt this close to her mother, and she only hoped they never
lost that connection ever again. Because the gods knew she had never needed her
more than she did now.
                                      ˜*˜
                                      Jon
“Open the gates,” Jon heard someone shout, meeting Robb’s eyes, as they stood
in front of Castle Black’s gates on the backs of their horses. The ride to the
castle had been a long and hard one, filled with scared thoughts about their
uncle’s fate, as well as thoughts about Sansa and the rest of the family they
were leaving behind, while admiring the size of the Wall the closer they got.
But now that they were here, they could finally focus on their mission.
The moment the gates were open, Yoren, Ser Rodrik and Jory were the first to
guide their horses inside, while he and Robb followed right behind them, along
with the rest of their men. The place, although it was big, was old and looked
somewhat like it was falling apart, and Jon couldn’t help but wonder what his
life would have been like, if he had actually taken the black and had made this
his new home and the men he could see around him his new brothers. He could
feel their eyes follow them, as they stood scattered about the yard and on the
balconies of some of the buildings. Eyes that belonged to old and young
men—some of them boys even, not older than fourteen or fifteen—many of them
bearded and others not. From their reaction alone, it was obvious they were not
getting a lot of visitors and Jon could clearly see why. This place was a ruin
in comparison to Winterfell.
“We’re coming from Winterfell. Lord Stark is sending a search party for his
brother beyond the Wall. You’d better tell the Lord Commander. He’ll want to
meet with them,” Yoren informed the three men who approached them, while they
all dismounted their horses.
“And who should I say he’ll be meeting with?” one of the three men, a tall one
with grey curly short hair, asked suspiciously. He seemed to be in charge.
“Ser Rodrik and Jory Cassel, and Lord Stark’s two elder sons,” Jory was the one
to respond, introducing them. The man’s eyes travelled to him and Robb,
distinguishing them from the rest of their men, who wore much simpler cloaks
than the two of them. The two direwolves beside them, Ghost and Grey Wind,
seemed to also give away their identity. It was a miracle that Jon had gotten
Ghost to come with him and leave Lady. But it had felt almost as if the wolf
had understood the danger Jon would be getting himself into, and with Sansa’s
urging, had dutifully followed him to the Wall.
“May I ask who you might be?” Ser Rodrik asked next, gaining back the man’s
attention.
“Ser Alliser Thorne, Master-at-Arms here at Castle Black. I’m responsible for
training the new recruits,” the man answered, before Jon felt his eyes on him
again.
“The men need rest before we can begin our mission. We brought our own food,”
Ser Rodrik said and the man nodded.
“Show them to the hall,” he told the two other men beside him, and then turned
back to them.
“The rest follow me,” he added, and Yoren, Ser Rodrik, Jory, Robb and himself
followed the man to meet the Lord Commander, while he and Robb shared a look.
                                      ˜*˜
“This is the arm our rangers found,” Lord Commander Jeor Mormont said, as they
all stood around the desk in his solar. Upon meeting him, Jon could not help
but think of the man’s sister who had been placed as a witness for his and
Sansa’s bedding.
“What’s so unique about a piece of a dead man’s arm? Why are you still keeping
it here?” Robb asked then, as all their eyes were glued to the grayish flesh
placed on a piece of cloth on top of the table.
“To study it of course,” came an old man’s voice. Jon had not paid any
attention to him until then.
“Study it for what?” he asked.
“For the odd fact that although it is a piece of a dead man, dead flesh itself,
it does not appear to rot or to smell,” the old man answered.
“How is that even possible?” Robb was the next one to speak.
“We do not know, but we hope Maester Aemon will be able to tell us more in the
future,” Lord Commander Mormont replied, pointing towards the old man sitting
by the hearth.
“Speaking of the future, how many of your men can we expect to accompany us
beyond the Wall?” Ser Rodrik asked.
“We don’t have the men to waste in pointless missions. We’ve already sent a few
of our men beyond the Wall and they came back with this,” Lord Mormont said,
pointing towards the arm on the table.
“We asked Yoren to bring in recruits to help us defend ourselves better. Not
take on missions that will get even more of us killed. Benjen was a good friend
and a brother to us, but we can’t risk any more of our men, just for him.”
“So, we should expect no men for when we leave on the morrow?” Jory asked
irritated.
“I’d suggest you wait a few days. There is a storm coming and it would make
your lives really difficult if it caught you while you’re travelling north of
the Wall. Benjen would not have wanted any harm to come to his nephews because
of him.”
“You talk as if he’s already dead,” Jon accused him, angrily.
“For all we know he is,” Lord Mormont answered, looking at him for perhaps the
first time.
“You must be Jon. Benjen has told me a lot about you. He had a lot of love for
you,” he added. It didn’t make Jon glare at him any less.
“Jon? As in ‘Jon Snow’?” Ser Alliser Thorne spoke. Jon had forgotten he was
still in the room.
“You’re Rhaegar Targaryen’s bastard,” the man concluded, making Jon even
angrier than before.
“Mind your tone with my brother,” Robb seethed.
“Your brother? The way I heard it, he’s your bastard cousin fucking your
sister, whom he grew up thinking as his own,” Thorne retorted and Ser Rodrik
and Jory barely held Robb and himself back from attacking him.
“Ser Alliser, I will not tolerate this behavior. These men are our guests. I
will not have you insult them,” Lord Mormont intervened.
“I did not insult anyone. I merely spoke the truth. If it wasn’t for this boy’s
whore of a mother seducing him, Rhaegar Targaryen would be King now instead of
Robert Baratheon, and I wouldn’t be stuck here, freezing my arse off on the
Wall for the rest of my life,” Thorne said and this time the rest of the men
could not hold Jon back from punching him in the face, before they actually
managed to restrain him.
“Remove yourself from this room right now,” Jeor Mormont ordered, and Thorne
holding his bloodied nose with his hand and one last glare towards Jon
proceeded to leave, while Jon was still held back by the rest of them. He had
only known him for a few moments and he already hated him.
“I’ll have rooms prepared for you and your men. Think about what I’ve told you,
and consider waiting for a few days before you go. The weather north of the
Wall is always unpredictable, so you should at least wait for when it’s safest
to travel.”
“Thank you, Lord Commander, for your advice. We will think on it tonight and
decide on the morrow,” Ser Rodrik said and then led all of them out of the room
and back to find the rest of their men.
When we get outside, Thorne should better be hiding, Jon kept thinking
furiously, because if his eye caught that man again, he was going to do a lot
more than just punch him in the face and give him a bloody nose. Jon already
hated everything here and missed Sansa and Winterfell terribly, and that made
him realize he would have made the biggest mistake in his life, if he had
chosen to join the Night’s Watch. In fact, he had never been happier than he
was now for the revelation of his parentage that led him to the life he lived.
The revelation that allowed him to marry Sansa. Whatever that man said, he was
wrong. Sansa was the light of his life and he would never be embarrassed again
for being her husband.
Oh, it would be so sweet to have her here with me, he thought longingly, and
then followed the others.
Chapter End Notes
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***** Family *****
Chapter Notes
     Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)
                                     Sansa
Sansa knocked on the door of her father’s solar, bracing herself for their
inevitable talk, when—to her surprise—the door was suddenly opened by her
mother. Her lord father was inside, sitting behind his desk.
“Come, Sansa,” Lady Catelyn bid her inside with a face that gave nothing away,
moving aside for her to pass, as Sansa instinctively placed her hands on her
belly. With her head held high, trying her best to look courageous, she then
walked inside the room, before she heard the door shut behind her and looked at
her father.
Lord Eddard Stark had never looked more miserable and troubled before in his
life. His eyes seemed tired with dark circles underneath them, while deep lines
creased his forehead. It seemed as if he had aged twenty years in a matter of
weeks, but with Sansa keeping her distance from him, she was only now able to
notice the changes.
“Father? You called for me? Is something wrong? Is Jon—?”
“Both Jon and Robb are fine. I received a raven from Castle Black earlier. They
arrived a few days ago, but the weather hasn’t allowed them to travel north
yet. They’re still there or at least they were when they sent this raven. You
don’t need to worry about them for now,” he said and paused.
“But this is not why I called you. Though, I assume you knew this already,” her
father said, staring inside her eyes. Before long Sansa had to look away,
hugging herself tighter, as she heard a sigh coming from him.
“Are you alright? Is the babe alright?” her father asked then.
“We’re both healthy, yes,” Sansa answered. It had been days since her mother
had discovered her condition, but she had kept quiet, just like her handmaiden,
whom Lady Catelyn had sworn to secrecy. However, Sansa had been aware that it
was only a matter of time before her father knew and she had had no doubt that
he did, when he had asked for her. Just like her, Ned had been avoiding her
since the wedding.
“Your mother tells me you’re pleased that you’re with child. Is this true?” he
asked and he sounded hopeful, although he looked worried.
“It is. The Gods have blessed my first union with Jon, so it was not all in
vain,” she told him and she couldn’t hold back the bitterness in her voice.
Although Sansa had forgiven him long ago and was grateful that the bedding had
brought her closer to Jon and had given them their child, she still felt upset
with him for not even apologizing to her for the way he had handled things the
night of the wedding. Her mother did not try to intervene. It was no secret
that she had been fighting with Ned. 
“Sansa… there are no words… I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am. I should
never have allowed the bedding. I should never have let you suffer like that. I
know you must hate me, but—”
“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you, Father. I’m just disappointed. And
so is Jon.”
Ned looked both relieved and pained by her words. “I understand. I wronged both
of you. I brought shame on both my children and I can never take it back. I’m
not even going to ask for your forgiveness, because I know I don’t deserve it.
I will have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life,” he said and the
look on her father’s face broke Sansa’s heart.
“No, you won’t. I’ve felt hurt and shamed too… but I cannot hold it against
you, when I know the reason you let it happen. When I know how desperate you
were for this to work for the sake of our family, for Jon. I was there. I
remember how they pressured you. I myself agreed to go through with it and so
did Jon. You asked us both and we agreed. You didn’t force us. In the end it
was our decision. I know that if I had said no, you would have stopped it,
consequences be damned. I know you tried after… even though we had both agreed.
Theon told me what happened after I was led to my chambers.”
“Theon?” her father asked surprised.
“He told me you tried to use Jon’s drunkenness as an excuse, but Jon refused.”
“Theon should have kept his mouth shut. It was not Jon’s fault. I should have
never put him in that spot. He felt too embarrassed in a room full of men to
agree with me. Please, don’t blame him.”
“I don’t. I never did. And I don’t blame you either. Not anymore. I did… at
first. When the anger and the humiliation were still fresh on my mind, but I
cannot blame you any longer. That would make me a hypocrite. I cannot hold
against you the thing that brought me everything I ever wished for. A man to
love and a family. Jon and I love each other, Father, and the thought of our
child does not make me simply pleased. I’ve never felt happier in my life. Jon
is all I could ever wish for to have in a husband and the thought of holding
our babe in my arms fills my heart with unbelievable happiness,” Sansa said and
smiled at her father, only now realizing that there were tears running down her
face. In a moment Ned Stark was out of his seat and he was gathering her in his
arms.
“My precious girl,” he mumbled in her hair, as he held her tightly against him.
His protective arms around her body were making her feel like a little girl
again, desperately clutching at him in fear after a nightmare, and all of a
sudden she was feeling the need to confess everything that was keeping her up
at night.
“I’m scared, Father. For Jon and for Robb. What if they don’t come back? What
if Jon never meets his child? What if Uncle Ben is already dead?” she cried,
and her tears wetted his jerkin.
“Don’t be afraid, my love. They will all come back. I promise. Jon will be here
for when your child is born. He won’t miss it,” he reassured her, but there was
no way for him to know that. It was an empty promise. One that he could not
keep.
“I should have told him. I’m so stupid. Why didn’t I tell him? Now he’s gone on
a dangerous mission and he doesn’t even know. He could die and never know about
his child,” Sansa cried harder.
“Shhh… don’t think like that. Ser Rodrik and Jory won’t let anything happen to
him, and Jon and Robb will be watching each other’s back and keep each other
safe,” her father told her and Sansa moved back to look at him, a thought just
occurring to her.
“You said they’re still at Castle Black. Perhaps I could send him a raven. Tell
him about our child,” she said suddenly excited.
“Sansa, no. We’ve talked about this. It’s too dangerous for people outside our
castle to know about your child. You’d only be putting it at risk. Anyone could
intercept that message. People who could warn Robert,” her mother argued. Sansa
had forgotten that she was still in the room.
“Your mother is right, Sansa. It’s not safe for many people to know about this.
You will have to wait for Jon to come back and surprise him. Since you decided
not to tell him before he left, you don’t have a choice now but to wait,” he
reasoned with her, and although she knew he was right, it didn’t make her feel
any less miserable.
“I understand,” she whispered in defeat, before Ned hugged her again
protectively. She had missed his arms around her. She had missed feeling this
safe. Jon had been the only one to make her feel safe lately, but now Jon was
gone.
Please Gods, bring him back to me. Let him meet our child. Don’t let him die
without knowing it,Sansa prayed, resting her head on her father’s chest, as her
mother came to hug her as well from behind.
Standing there between them reminded her of the times when she had been little,
and she had climbed between them in their bed during the stormy nights,
terrified by the sound of the thunders. But in her mind, it wasn’t her climbing
onto the bed anymore. It was a little boy with Jon’s hair and kind brown eyes
asking for their protection, while she and Jon lay on their sides, looking at
him adoringly as he too lay between them, the image making hope blossom in her
heart. At that moment, she knew that she would get to live it. She had to. Jon
had to come back to her and he would, and the thought of them together again
with their child brought a smile on her face.
                                      ˜*˜
                                      Jon
Jon was watching Alliser Thorne training the new recruits in Castle Black’s
yard, casually leaning against the wooden railing of the balcony, when he felt
Robb’s presence beside him.
“Are you alright?” his brother asked him, mirroring his posture.
“I’m fine. Just irritated. It’s been days. Why can’t we leave already? I just
want to go find Uncle Benjen,” he grumbled.
“Jory and Ser Rodrik agreed with Mormont that it’s too dangerous for us to go
now. We need to let the storm pass before we can move,” Robb reasoned with him.
“And since when do we take orders from Jory?”
“Since Father put him and Ser Rodrik in charge. You remember that, don’t you?
That Father told us that we were to obey their orders? They’re in charge of
this expedition and there’s nothing we can do about it. Besides, I agree with
them. We don’t know what we’re going to find out there. We should at least make
sure the weather is on our side.”
“Whatever,” Jon said and kept watching the recruits training below, when Thorne
locked eyes with him. Robb didn’t seem to miss the tension between the two.
Although they had kept their distance ever since that first day’s incident,
they still occasionally exchanged hateful glances with each other.
“What is this really about? Is this about him?” he asked him, motioning with a
tilt of his head towards the Master-at-Arms.
“No. He’s a prick, but I can handle him. It’s not like it’s the first time
someone has mocked me for being a bastard.”
“You’re not a bastard, so whatever he thinks does not matter. What he said
about Sansa and your mother—”
“Please don’t—”
“All I’m trying to say is that it shouldn’t bother you. He doesn’t know what
he’s talking about,” Robb said, before Jon sighed deeply, tightening his hold
on the railing.
“Doesn’t he, though? My mother did seduce a married man and then had a child
with him. Thorne was in a way right about what he said, even though he was
harsh.”
“She didn’t seduce him. They just fell in love and then they married. They
didn’t mean to cause what followed and it wasn’t just Aunt Lyanna who was at
fault. Don’t let him get into your head and poison your thoughts of your
mother.”
“And what about what he said about Sansa? Don’t you agree with him?” Jon asked,
turning his face towards Robb to watch him closely.
“Of course not!” his brother answered and sounded offended.
“Really? Because not too long ago you were thinking the same way and you wanted
to murder me,” Jon challenged him, thinking of all the times Robb had glared at
him during sparring and all the unnecessary bruises he had given him.
“That’s not true and you know it. It was just difficult for me to adjust to the
idea. Jon, I know the kind of man you are, and I know that you’ll take care of
her. In the end, I’m glad you two are together and that you have found love in
each other,” Robb told him, and when he did, Jon let the mask of pretense
finally slip from his face, for a moment becoming vulnerable enough to confess
his feelings.
“I miss her. I know it’s only been a few weeks, but I miss her terribly,” he
admitted, closing his eyes in shame. He was trying to be strong and not let
Robb know the agonizing pain he was feeling from being parted from Sansa, but
he just couldn’t pretend anymore. The old him would have just brooded in
silence and would not have told anyone, but the new him, this side of him that
had fallen head over heels for Sansa, could not hold back from expressing his
feelings anymore. He needed to mope and to whine and Robb would just have to
endure it.
“I’m sure she misses you too, but if you want to go back to her in one piece,
you need to be careful and not make hasty decisions. Let Jory and Ser Rodrik
decide what’s right. They have more experience and clearer heads than we do.”
“Aye, you’re right. I just can’t help but feel like we’re wasting our time
here, and every day that passes is another one Uncle Benjen is missing and
another one I spend away from Sansa,” Jon said, but before Robb could react and
say anything in return, Alliser Thorne’s voice caught their attention from the
yard below them, and they both turned their heads in time to see Sam, one of
the new recruits approach the rest. Although they were always calling him
mocking names and the two of them had not yet interacted, Jon had caught the
boy’s name.
He was not much older than him and Robb and as he walked clumsily on
uncoordinated feet, his face pale with fear, Jon noticed how different he
looked from the others. Sure, there was the obvious difference—he was fat, and
the armor he was given barely fit him—but there was also something else about
him. Sam was highborn and if Jon had to guess, he’d say he had never had to
defend himself before in his life, and unfortunately, after the boy was given a
sword with a blunt edge and a shield, and Thorne ordered one of the others to
attack him, Jon’s suspicions were confirmed. Where the others before had seemed
to lack any serious skills in sword fighting, this boy was not only
tremendously unskilled, but he was also a coward, and soon he found himself on
the ground, face down, while he cried out for mercy, causing the others to
start laughing around him and make fun of him. In response, the feeling of
secondhand embarrassment and pity made Jon move, and before he knew what he was
doing, he was heading for the stairs.
“Jon!” he barely heard Robb calling after him, and although he knew it wasn’t
his place to interfere, he was determined to put a stop to this poor boy’s
torture.
“He yielded. Stop this right now,” Jon shouted, glaring at Thorne, who never
stopped yelling orders to attack Sam—whom the Master-at-Arms was calling Lady
Piggy—while he was still on the ground, begging for mercy.
The moment Jon spoke all voices and laughter died down around him, and Thorne
turned to him with eyes full of contempt.
“This is Castle Black. You’re not in Winterfell anymore, Lord Snow. You don’t
get to order us around here. You’re only a guest and soon you’ll be leaving.
You’re not one of us, so I suggest you mind your own business. I am Master-at-
Arms and I will train the recruits the way I see fit. I will not have a bastard
boy like yourself instruct me on how to train my men,” Thorne mocked him, a
self-satisfied grin on his face. Before he could reply, Jon felt Robb’s hand on
his shoulder, trying to keep him calm, but he ignored him.
“It is Lord Stark to you. I’m not a Snow, and you will have it from me. We
might not be in Winterfell, but Castle Black is still in the North. So, unless
you want me to make a formal complaint to your Lord Commander, you will stop
this immediately,” Jon said boldly, only to receive another smirk from Thorne.
“The Night’s Watch doesn’t fall under anyone’s jurisdiction. As for the Starks,
they might rule the North, but last time I heard, Robert Baratheon was king of
the Seven Kingdoms. The Starks are only wardens of the North, and interestingly
enough King Robert is said to now call the Starks traitors.”
“And since when do you care about Robert Baratheon? You’ve made it very clear
that you hate him.”
“That doesn’t make him any less the King, and I’ve heard another interesting
story,” Thorne said and paused.
“You want to hear it? No?” he asked him mockingly. Jon glared at him, and he
could feel Robb doing the same next to him.
“Oh, I’ll tell you anyway,” he continued.
“We all heard why he thinks the Starks to be traitors. It’s because of you. You
might call yourself a Stark all you want, but the truth is you’re a Targaryen
bastard, and sooner or later Robert Baratheon will have your head on a spike,”
Thorne said, his words falling from his lips like venom, while putting emphasis
on the word bastard. Jon felt Robb’s hand again on his shoulder, holding him
back.
“He’s not worth it,” his brother whispered to him, but Jon didn’t want to
listen. He was full of rage and was about to attack him, when a man shouted
from one of the balconies, causing everyone to turn and look. It was the
Maester they all had met the first day they had come to Castle Black, and he
was now telling Thorne Mormont was asking for him, while his blind eyes stared
at nothing. His name was Aemon, and besides being the Maester of Castle Black,
he was also the first Targaryen Jon had ever laid eyes on. Until Ser Rodrik had
told him, he hadn’t realized the implication of the name Aemon when he had
heard it, but as he looked at him now all he could think was that this old man
was all that was left from his real father’s side of the family, besides a
girl, not older than him, half a world away in Essos. His father’s sister, as
Ned had informed him. He had had an uncle too, but the news of his death had
recently reached the shores of Westeros.
“We’ll talk later, Lord Snow,” Thorne told him mockingly before he left, giving
him one last hateful glance.
“Thank you,” he heard someone say then, just as Thorne disappeared inside one
of the buildings. Jon had been too preoccupied glaring at Ser Alliser’s back to
notice who had spoken. When he turned around, however, Sam was looking at him
expectantly.
“Thank you for defending me. You didn’t have to do that. I’m Sam, by the way,”
the boy said and offered him his hand for a handshake.
“I know who you are. I’m Jon, and you don’t have to thank me. I did nothing
important,” Jon replied, shaking his hand.
“This is my brother Robb,” Jon said next and Robb greeted him also. The rest of
the recruits had gone soon after Thorne, but the two other boys who had stayed
behind with the three of them gave their names as well.
Grenn and Pypar were two of the few who had not made fun of Sam earlier and
Grenn had been the one who had taken mercy on him and had stopped his attack
despite Ser Alliser’s commands. So, after the introductions were over, Grenn
turned to Sam. “Why didn’t you defend yourself? I wasn’t even hitting you and
you froze on the ground doing nothing. I didn’t mean to scare you. We were just
training. The swords aren’t even sharp.”
“I wanted to… I really did… but I couldn’t. I’m afraid I’m a coward. My father
always said so and he was right.”
“What are you doing in the Night’s Watch then?” Robb was the one to ask him
next. Sam’s presence here was something puzzling to all of them.
“I guess there was no other place left for me to go to,” Sam answered and Jon
knew he was holding something back. There was more to his story than what he
was telling them, but he wasn’t going to pressure him in front of everyone. He
could see in his eyes that he didn’t want them to know.
“But you’re highborn, aren’t you? What is your surname?” Robb insisted, before
Jon had the chance to stop him. Robb never knew when to stop talking.
“My name is Samwell Tarly. My House serve as bannermen to House Tyrell of
Highgarden,” Sam answered.
“Is it true? What they say? Are the Tyrells fighting beside the Baratheons in
the war against the Lannisters?” Robb asked yet again.
“Robb—” Jon protested this time. Sam looked at him curiously and then at Robb,
before he answered.
“You want to know if they’ll march against your house as well, after the
Lannisters are defeated. You’re a Stark and you are the Targaryen heir
everyone’s been talking about,” Sam said. It wasn’t a question. He had heard
like the rest of them Thorne’s mocking words earlier. He knew it was him.
“I’m not anyone’s heir. I’m Jon and that’s all you need to know.”
“My father fought on Prince Rhaegar’s side during the rebellion. I can’t
imagine what he’d say if he saw me talking to you now. He always admired the
dragons,” Sam told him with an odd expression on his face that Jon didn’t know
how to interpret.
“So did the Tyrells and now they’re both fighting for Robert Baratheon. A man
who’s trying to murder my brother, the son of the Prince they had originally
sworn their allegiance to. I can’t say I admire your father’s loyalty very
much,” Robb retorted.
“Well, my father isloyal—to the Tyrells. They’re the ones who joined the fight
on the King’s side. They couldn’t exactly take the Lannister’s side. To many it
seemed like the lesser of two evils. But perhaps my father isn’t the best
example to bring, when you think of loyalty and honor. To him honor is
everything, even at the expense of others,” Sam said and he sounded bitter. Jon
was curious to know what that was about. Was his father the reason he had come
here? Even though it was obvious he had no place in the Night’s Watch? Earlier
he had said his father had always called him a coward. He guessed from Sam’s
father’s perspective it was difficult to find any honor in a coward. He could
never imagine Ned telling him something like that, however, even though he was
the most honorable man he knew. Despite his flaws, apart from Lady Catelyn, his
family always loved him unconditionally.
“They were different times, different wars. House Stark helped King Robert win
his crown more than anyone else from what I’ve studied, and now the Starks and
the Baratheons are at each other’s throats,” Sam commented, bringing Jon back
to the present. Jon stopped Robb before he could speak.
Besides, what could his brother say? That it had all been a mistake? A
misunderstanding? Both sides had wronged each other, it was true, but it all
came down to his parents’ crime. They had loved each other and because of their
love thousands had lost their lives. His grandfather and uncle had died by the
hands of his other grandfather, all because of them. His father’s family and
what would have been his half-siblings had gotten butchered during the sacking
of King’s Landing, again because of them. His father’s siblings had lived all
their lives running and hiding in permanent exile in Essos, until one of them
had died, still because of them. All of the Seven Kingdoms had immersed in war
and decay, and it had all been because of their love.
Robb could believe whatever he wanted to believe, but it wasn’t Thorne the one
making him think badly of his mother and real father. It was all their doing.
Their actions and arrogance shamed him, and there was nothing honorable about
their union, even though they were married, at least in his eyes. Honor and
duty were difficult. It wasn’t always pleasant to do the honorable thing and it
usually came at a price. A price he and Sansa had paid heavily, trying to do
the right thing for their family. Love had come afterwards. With his parents it
had been the opposite and their love had had an impact on everyone, and most of
all on his family, which was still paying the price.
“But I guess it doesn’t really matter. I, for one, have nothing to do with
these fights anymore. Not that I ever did,” Sam smiled and paused, becoming
serious again.
“I’ve come to take the black and find a new family in my new brothers,” he
said, and Jon saw Grenn and Pyp—as he liked to be called—nodding in agreement.
He didn’t know their background, although he was certain it was very different
from Sam’s, but it was obvious they too wanted to find a place to belong and a
family. Not too long ago, Jon himself was flirting with the idea of coming
here, but now everything was different. Sansa had more than filled that need.
She was his entire world now, but he could still relate, since he had felt like
an outsider for years.
“Well, then if you’re all serious about this, you’d better learn how to fight,
because that was just embarrassing,” Jon said seriously, but then burst out
laughing, making the rest of them laugh as well.
“Robb and I could teach you, while we’re here. We’ve been taught by the best.
Thorne has nothing on him,” he told them and Robb agreed next to him. At least
they’d have something to pass the time while they were waiting here.
“I’m not going to get any better, you know,” Sam protested.
“Well, at least you can’t get any worse,” Robb said then and everyone started
laughing again. Jon hadn’t laughed in days, not since they had left Winterfell,
and at the realization the memory of Sansa’s sweet laughter entered his mind.
He could only hope that he would see her laugh again soon and the thought of it
warmed his heart.
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