For a cold winter's morning, a steady sheen of sweat formed on your forehead as you swung your sword at the training dummy.
You couldn't sleep. Stress kept you awake all throughout the night, making you irritable and restless. Figuring some training would tire you out, you grumpily stomped your way down to Winterfell's courtyard. So far, you weren't sure if it was working. Your eyes were heavy; but the rest of your body was not.
Letting out a frustrated growl, you struck again at the dummy, your E/C eyes glowering with a slightly maddened glint in them.
From afar, a certain red-headed Stark watched the frustrated young warrior curiously and with great interest.
Lady Sansa awoke early that morning from a nightmare. Flustered and shaken from the contents of her dream, she dressed herself and decided to take a walk to clear her head. She had a long day ahead and with Jon being busy with "entertaining" the Targaryen visitor, gods knew that she needed a clear head to take on the day.
As she approached the courtyard, the sound of metal colliding with a hard surface met her ears. Curious, she followed the sound down the hall leading outside. She came to a halt on the balcony and gazed down at the sight before her.
There you were, swinging a longsword at a training dummy, grunting and growling each time your weapon met it's target. Sansa noted with each swing, your attacks grew sloppier and less focused.
Curious, she rested her elbows on the railing, her hands balled into fists under her chin, and watched.
Your H/C hair was falling out of the messy bun at the back of your head, a light coat of sweat collecting on your exposed biceps. How you weren't cold, Sansa had no idea.
She cleared her throat, catching your attention at last, E/C eyes widening in surprise at her sudden appearance.
The sound of someone clearing their throat brought you out of your insomnia induced dummy beating session, and you turned toward the sound.
Your eyes widened at the sight of Sansa Stark watching you intently from the balcony above. "Morning Lady Stark," you called out breathlessly, the sword weighing heavy in your dominant hand.
Her lips twitched up into a small polite smile. "You're awake rather early," she replied, cocking her head to the side.
You shrugged as you sheathed the longsword. "Couldn't sleep."
Sansa hummed in response. She rose from leaning over the railing of the balcony and began walking down the stairs to you.
Your relationship with Sansa was professional primarily, but there were moments shared between the two of you that completely and utterly confused you.
There was one moment where you were escorting her back to her room in the evening in place of Brienne, who had some business to deal with at that time. As the two of you slowly walked down the hall you chatted animatedly, with Sansa linking your arm with hers. As you arrived at her bedroom door, the two of you gazed at each other in silence, an unspoken emotion behind her bright blue eyes as she stared back into your own.
The two of you stood like that for a while, the air around you almost feeling electric but you chalked that up to you feeling uncertain. Or perhaps it was the wine you had earlier kicking in. Then with a sly smile, Sansa bid you goodnight, disappearing behind her bedroom door and leaving you a little dumbstruck at the interaction that took place.
That night keeps you awake sometimes, wondering of the meaning behind it - or if you were reading too deeply into it.
Sansa came to a stop in front of you, her eyes scanning your disheveled appearance. "Is something bothering you, Y/N?"
Your mouth opened slightly, the words stuck in your throat. "I - there's no need for concern, Lady Stark. I can assure you that I'm fine."
You hoped your words would convince her. However her eyes narrowed, brows knitting together. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?'
Blinking at her response, you were about to defend yourself until she slowly reached her hand up toward your face. A stray lock of hair had fallen into your eyes and made itself home there thanks to the sweat. It felt as if your heart would leap out of your chest as you watched her ever so gently brush the lock of hair back.
"You can tell me what's on your mind," Sansa murmured softly. "And please, call me Sansa; we've known each other long enough now that titles are forfeit in private."
This was true - you'd been at Winterfell for a little over a month now. You were here for Littlefinger's scheming, hating the way he was trying to toy with the Stark sisters for his own twisted gain. You had to fight away the smirk that wanted to creep onto your face when Arya executed him under Sansa's command.
Nodding very faintly, you sighed. "I have trouble sleeping most nights," you told her.
Her hand now lowered and clasped with the other, Sansa motioned for you to continue with a nod of her head.
"Do you ever worry about whether you're doing the right thing, or making the right choices?" you asked her. When she nodded, you continued your train of thought. "I came here to Winterfell to help with the threat beyond the Wall. That was my mission, still is. But now, I'm afraid I'm feeling conflicted."
"What do you mean?" Sansa asked, her calm exterior cracking, a frown making it's way to her brow.
You took a shaky breath, looking down at your feet nervously. Am I really about to say it? you wondered, a sarcastic tone to your thoughts. What do I even say? "Oh hi Sansa, I'm sorry I'm feeling conflicted about going to war with undead because I fear that I care for you deeply and want to stay here to protect you and keep you safe?" Oh yeah, that will go over well!
"Y/N… I don't know what to say…"
Your head jerked up, panic seeping into your veins as you stared open-mouthed at her shocked expression. Shit, I didn't mean to say that out loud! "I… look it's nothing, please just - ignore that I said anything."
You began to walk faster ahead, away from the red-head. You heard Sansa calling your name but you were too afraid to even glance back at her, too embarrassed.
She was a Lady, the Lady of Winterfell. What were you? Just a commoner with a sword and insomnia. You had nothing to offer her, and the thought made your heart sink.
A gentle but firm hand took hold of your forearm; somehow even in a dress she caught up with you.
"Y/N, please look at me," you heard her plead, desperation in her voice.
When you refused to turn your head toward her, she came closer to you. You felt her hand hesitantly cup one side of your face, turning your face towards her own. You felt like a scared little girl as you eyed her expression anxiously.
But all you saw was… curiosity. Maybe even a little fear of her own. "You truly meant those things you said?" she whispered, not moving her hand away from your face.
Your mouth opened and closed, all that came out was a mere squeak. "I -" you began, trying to find words, "yes, it's true." You paused and took a deep breath, closing your eyes. "I apologise if that makes you in any way, shape or form uncomfortable. I just think that -"
You never got to finish your sentence, as a soft pair of lips met yours. Your eyes opened briefly in shock as Sansa Stark kissed you. Sensing you stiffen, she pulled away, and you swore you'd never seen the lady so vulnerable-looking in all the time you'd known her.
Sansa was afraid she'd done something wrong, feeling you stiffen so under her touch. Perhaps I moved too fast? She panicked on the inside.
The two of you stood still, staring at each other as snow fell lightly onto both of your heads.
Might as well take a leap of faith here, you thought to yourself. Gulping slightly, you took both your hands and cupped Sansa's face gently, watching closely for any sign that she was uncomfortable before leaning in and kissing her.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, a passing thought of "What if someone sees?" entering your mind momentarily, but you didn't care enough to stop. Gods be damned, you really liked this woman.
She was the first to pull away, one of her hands filled with a fistful of your shirt while the other rested on your cheek, thumb gently caressing it. "That was… rather pleasant," she said softly, almost a gasp.
You smiled at her, your nerves gone for the moment. "You could say that," you breathed. "That was very, very pleasant."
A giggle escaped Sansa's lips, and you couldn't help but join in, resting your forehead against hers. "So what happens now?" you asked.
Blue eyes gazed deeply into your own E/C eyes with a playful but soft look about them. "Well Y/N, I don't just let anyone kiss me, especially like that. What I was going to say earlier before you took off was that the feeling is mutual."
You pulled back to stare at her, a grin creeping onto your face. "Really? You're not fucking with me are you, My Lady?"
Sansa let out a very un-ladylike snort. "No, I am not fucking with you," she retorted, the playful look in her eyes still present. "I happen to feel very deeply for you, have for some time now."
You felt as if you were on cloud nine. Or perhaps riding a dragon above cloud nine. Either way, you were over the moon with this revelation to say the least. Holding out your arm for her, you felt your heart swell as she linked hers with yours. "In that case my dear, I would very much like it if you were to be mine?"
Sansa leaned into you, resting her head on your shoulder. "I'd be honoured," she whispered softly, the two of you making your way back to your room for some more alone time. After an hour of more talking and stolen kisses here and there, sleepiness was finally taking hold of you, and you drifted off to sleep peacefully, the last thing you felt were Sansa's fingers running through your hair.
If the end were to come, you could happily say that you'd willingly let it come, so long as she was by your side when it came. But you wouldn't go down without a fight, and by no means were you prepared to let the darkness take this new light that had come into your life.