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THE PRINCE'S BRIDE
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WINTERFELL
"Father, why do we have to go to the south?" – a woman's voice was heard while its owner entered her father's solar.
"Hello to you too, Sansa. Please sit." – Eddard Stark, or Ned as his wife and close friends called him, waited until his oldest daughter had done as he said before talking again. – "I thought you'd be excited to go the capital. You will have fun with the other ladies."
"That is so boring, father. I would rather stay here and practice with Robb and Theon." – she complained. She wasn't Arya to be fawning over dresses and hairstyles, by the gods.
"I don't think your mother would appreciate hearing you say that." – Ned argued, already knowing how his wife would react. For years she had tried to make Sansa behave like a lady, preparing her for her role as a lord's wife, but she was too wild to be tamed.
'Just like Lyanna.' He thought, laughing internally.
Ever since Sansa had been born, his wife had been excited because she had looked exactly like her and so she had expected her daughter to be the perfect little lady. Unfortunately, even though she had the Tully looks, she had a Stark through and through.
Since she was little she was always more interested in playing in the dirt or follow her brother Robb around the castle than she was in learning to dance, sing and sew. Catelyn had of course tried everything to make her more interested in becoming more refined, only resulting in several arguments over the years.
A few years later when Arya had been born looking exactly like his sister Lyanna, Cat had been disheartened at having another wild daughter. So great had been her shock when she turned out to be the lady she had longed for. It had been somewhat funny for Ned at first, but in the last few years it had stopped being so.
He had seen how Catelyn doted on Arya day and night while slowly but surely forgetting about Sansa. She no longer tried so hard to get her to behave and only talked to her to criticize her, sure that when the time came for her to marry, only a Northern lord of a minor house would accept her. Meanwhile she had all her hopes on making a very adventageous marriage for her youngest daughter. That's why she and Arya were so excited with they departure to the capital of the Seven Kingdoms.
Rumour had it that his nephew, Prince Jon Targaryen, a boy of seven and ten now, was in search of a wife. And Cat intended to turn Arya into said wife. Arya of course had been extatic when she was informed and couldn't way for the day of their departure.
Sansa, on the other hand, was less than thrilled. Which was why she was once again in his office, pleading with him not to make her go. And had it been for him, he would have respected his favourite daughter's wishes, but after watching his wife disregard Sansa's education, he knew this was an opportunity to elevate her baby girl's chances at a good marriage too.
And by the old gods was he going to make sure Sansa was prepared accordingly. Even if it meant that he would lose her to her future new family.
"Sansa, sweetheart, I know you'd rather stay here with the boys."
"Then why are you making me go?" – she pouted and gods if it did not remind Ned of Lyanna once more.
"I have already told you why. Several times." – he sighed. They had been having this conversation for over a month.
"Daddy! I don't want to get married!"
Ned stood from his chair and knelt next to Sansa, taking one of her delicate hands in his.
"Baby, I know. Believe me, I know. And I don't want to lose you to a husband neither."
"Then..."
"Let me finish, child." – he said. – "I don't want you to ever leave Winterfell, but whether we want it or not, one day it will happen. And you need to be ready when that time comes."
"I don't want to be like Arya. She never gets to do anything fun." – the redheaded girl argued. Ned couldn't help but laugh again imagining Sansa acting all proper and passing her days dancing or sewing with the other ladies. That would definitely never be her.
"I didn't want to tell you this until we reached King's Landing. But I think it will be necessary."
"What?" – she asked with trepidation.
"I have a surprise for you awaiting in the capital."
"A surprise?" – now she was curious.
"Yes. And if you promise me right now that you will make an effort to learn from the other ladies, I will tell you."
Sansa was silent for a couple of minutes, wondering if said surprise was worth such a promise from her. Then she remembered that this was her beloved father and he only wanted what was best for her. So in the end, she decided to trust her instincts and in him.
"Very well, father. I promise to do my best." – she said, looking him straight in the eye so he would know she was being sincere.
"Good girl." – he raised her hands and kissed them with fatherly pride. – "Now for your surprise. I wrote Lyanna asking her to find a person for me and I have just received a raven with confirmation."
"Confirmation? Of what?"
"Once we arrive in the city and as long as you keep your part of the deal, you will have sword lessons with a tutor I've found for you."
"Really?" – Sansa asked smiling.
"Really. But only if you keep your promise."
"I will, father. I promise I will." – Sansa hugged him happily and then stood up. – "I have to go tell Robb and Theon!"
"Don't tell them, Sansa." – Ned stopped her. – "If you tell them it won't be long before your mother finds out and she will forbid it. You know how she is."
"Alright, father. Then I'll go finish packing." – she left hurriedly, leaving a smiling Ned behind.
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KING'S LANDING
"When is your family expected?" – Samwell Tarly, Prince Jon's best friend, asked after they finished practicing in the training yard.
"Probably a moon from now." – Jon answered.
Ever since his mother had received a raven informing her of her brother's arrival in the city, she had spent every waking hour making sure everything was perfect for them. Of course Jon was sure that it being her brother and his family wasn't the only reason for his mother's excitement. Many moons before, just after his seventeenth nameday, his parents had informed him it was time for him to marry. Thus, they had thrown every lady of marriageable age in his path in hopes of finding his future queen. He hadn't been impressed in the least.
It wasn't that they were ugly or had little wit, but they were simply too dull for his tastes. They all tried to behave so ladylike and proper all the time, talking nonstop about fabrics, dances and poetry. He couldn't stand it.
He wanted a wife full of life. He wanted a wife just like his mother. A woman who behaved like a queen but that would also enjoy being bold. A woman who would be a true companion to him in every aspect of his life. A woman that would challenge him and whom he could challenge in return. A woman he could protect but who would also protect herself.
Which was why he couldn't help but be intrigued by his uncle's family visit. He was aware that they had never travelled so far south so he had never met them before, but he had of course heard many things about them. Especially about his female cousins. He had heard about the beautiful Sansa, a girl of six and ten and already so similar to her mother that he guessed she was the perfect Stark lady. And he had also heard about Arya, who had intrigued him the most. She, with only four and ten, was a carbon copy of his own mother in looks.
When he had heard that, he had been eager to learn more about her, although he didn't dare ask more information for fear of sounding disrespectful to his uncle's family. So in the end he decided he could only wait to meet her in person.
Maybe she would turn out to be the perfect wife and queen for him.
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Author's note: My first Jon/Sansa... I hope you like it :)