The night was cold and the breeze coming through the window was chilling as it brushed the skin of Sansa's arms. But as she stared out through the window, she felt a small sense of warmth inside her entirely unrelated to the weather. This is home.
She stepped away from the window as the gooseflesh began to spread across her arms. She looked at the bed that had formerly been her parents' marriage bed, and then her own. This is home.
When would it start to feel like home again?
She walked toward the fireplace and sat down in front of it, willing the soft crackling of the flames to lull her to sleep, or at least to empty her mind from all the thoughts that had been keeping her restlessly awake.
She spent so much time dreaming of recapturing Winterfell that she hadn't spent much time thinking about what it would actually feel like to live here again, now that the very walls were filled with echoes and shadows of ghosts and past lives. What would her mother have thought of all that had happened since the last time she had graced these halls? What would her father have thought? Would they be ashamed of all she had done? Could they be proud?
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. "The King in the North to see you, my Lady." Jon had posted a guard from Bear Island at her door for her safety. It was too soon to tell if the Knights of the Vale, or more importantly, Littlefinger, could be trusted. For the time being, there were no subjects more loyal than Lady Mormont's. "Come in."
Jon entered the room and saw Sansa sitting at the hearth, shivering. He grabbed a blanket off the nearest chair as he walked over to her.
"Can't sleep either?" he asked as he offered her the blanket.
Still staring at the flames, she shook her head. Then she looked up at him, saw the blanket he carried, and reached for it, a soft smile washing over her face in thanks. "Sleep hasn't come to me in weeks now. Not the restful kind anyway. I was hoping it'd be easier now that we've come home."
"I know what you mean. It is home, but it feels like even the castle walls have changed. Or maybe it's just that we have." He sat down next to her in front of the fire. "Mind if I join you?"
"It appears that you already have." She looked over at him with a joking smile. There it was again. Her face had felt hardened from the weeks and months she had lived without smiling, or laughing, and in the space of one conversation he had already made her smile twice. The feeling felt foreign to her, and yet she welcomed it.
"Are you having nightmares, too?" Jon asked. The depths of his dark brown eyes expressed concern but his warm smile made her feel understood and comforted.
"The nightmares don't come as often as they used to. Now, it's just a matter of stopping my mind from racing, and relaxing long enough to fall asleep."
Jon nodded and lowered his head. She liked that he didn't respond with something like "it'll get better" or "you're safe now." Those were empty words. In truth she knew she'd never really feel safe. And saying that life would get better would hardly feel right seeing as her mother and father, and Robb and Rickon, would never be brought back to them. Life would go one, but it would never be the same.
"When the nightmares pass for me, do you want to know where my dreams often take me?" he quietly asked her.
"Where?" she asked.
"Sometimes I dream that I'm Ghost," he smiled as he spoke. "Scavenging in the woods. Or exploring."
"That's funny. I used to have similar dreams of Lady. Before she was…" The words caught in her throat.
He grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, but said nothing.
She enjoyed the silence that sat between them now, relished in it. It was the kind of intimate silence that one can only share with another whom they fully trust and understand.
The fire danced in front of them until the flames began to dwindle. Noticing this, Jon stood and walked over to the woodpile to grab a few logs to add to the fire. It was when his back turned that Sansa, caught up in the moment, felt her eyes welling up with long held back tears.
It still wasn't safeness she suddenly felt, but a level of comfort and sanctuary came over her hat she had not felt since her youth. Not since her father's head had been removed from his body and she had become alone in this world.
Jon passed in front of her with the firewood and knelt down to add it to the fire. But, at the sound of Sansa's slight intake of breath, he turned to face her. Though she hadn't let the tears flow freely yet, her face must have betrayed her. He dropped the wood to the floor, sat down beside her, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her face to his chest.
It was not until this moment that she finally felt vulnerable enough to weep. She wept for Rickon. For her mother and father. She wept for Robb, and for the men who had died fighting for him. She wept for the men she had just witnessed give up their lives so that her and Jon could come home. She didn't dare weep for herself, and all of the suffering she had endured. If she let those demons out, she was afraid the tears would never stop. But it was a bittersweet release nonetheless, and one that she needed.
Eventually, her tears dried and she pulled away from him. She hesitated to look him in the eye, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. Sure, her and Jon had grown up together. But they had never been close, or even friendly. It was only these last few weeks that had created a bond that she felt was deeper than anything she had felt before. She was grateful for that bond, but also frightened by it.
She finally raised her eyes to his, and saw a hint of mirth in the creases of his eyes.
"Must you hog the blanket from me, or can we share? Winter has come after all."
She laughed and offered up the other half of the blanket to him, her feeling of vulnerability and embarrassment quickly dissipating.
Both of them gazing back at the fire, they fell back into their shared silence until Sansa broke it moments later.
"Was there a reason you came to visit me, or was it just to tell me about your wolf dreams?" She grinned.
He faced her again, and grinned back at her. "I wanted to check on you, and make sure you were alright. I imagined it might be difficult being here, in this room, alone." His face became grim. "I meant to come sooner, but the men wouldn't relent with their talk of mobilization and proposed battle plans for the war to come."
"Well, what was the verdict?" she asked, curiously.
"There wasn't one," he answered. "I told them we would reconvene once you were rested. We will make these decisions together from now one, you and I. This is our home, and we will defend it together."
She smiled at this, a warmth spreading through her body like wildfire, entirely unrelated to the flames in front of her.
"I know you might never feel truly safe again, Sansa, after everything you've suffered. And I don't blame you. But I want you to know that as long as I'm living, I will do all that I can to protect you. I will take care of you." He cupped the side of her face in his hand as he said this, and smiled at her, his eyes boring into hers in a way that made her feel like he was looking right into her soul.
She placed her hand over his, and steadily replied, "No Jon. We will take care of each other."