Author's Note:

The Particular Comfort of Lemon Cake series will be comprised of six interconnected one-shots, involving the characters of Jon Snow, Sansa Stark, Robb Stark, Arya Stark, and Gendry Waters (the main perspective of each entry will vary, but they will all be focused on the same storyline). Some fics will be focused mainly on platonic ships (sibling and friendship) and some will be more romantic in nature.

Written for Game of Ships "Seven Hells Challenge": June 22: Lust (Part 1), June 23: Envy (Part 2), June 24: Gluttony (Part 3), June 25: Wrath (Part 4), June 26: Sloth (Part 5), July 3: Fill Day (Part 6)

While I did my best to keep to each day's "hell," some may be stretching it just a bit for the purposes of keeping up the plot (sorry!).

There was a familiar knock on the door. If a knock had the ability to be distinct and identifiable to one person. Which, Jon thought, as he rose from his sofa where he'd been reading, was totally possible since he knew exactly who he would find on the other side.

He couldn't help the sigh that escaped his lips at the thought, and it wasn't because he didn't want to see said person. If anything, recognizing the knock made him tread over to the door even faster. No, he could admit to himself that he always felt a small thrill at hearing the tentative, but solid knock; it was just the reason for the knock in the first place that made him uncharacteristically angry .

And sure enough, when he finally reached the door and pulled it open, he was greeted by a tear-streaked face and a pair of beautiful, but puffy, blue eyes. "Hi," she murmured, attempting a smile, but instead crumpling again into quiet sobs.

It was a show of much restraint on Jon's part that he didn't charge from the apartment right then and there, find Joffrey Baratheon, and pummel him into the ground. He'd imagined doing so many times over, and so far picturing it in his mind was enough to hold him back. But just barely.

Unclenching his hands which he'd unconsciously tightened into fists at his side, he motioned for her to come in, something that had over the course of the past year become as familiar to him as her knock.

He heard her let out a puff of air in relief, and he wondered if she was worried that one of these days he would no longer let her in. The chance that she might even be thinking that made something clench in his gut, because she would always, always be welcome.

Partly because, despite Jon questioning why she would ever stay with a boyfriend who made her this upset, he couldn't help but be pleased that she came to him of all people. And partly because he held onto some pathetic hope that one of these days she would knock on his door without tears in her eyes and without a Joffrey Baratheon to get away from.

Given that, he could never and would never turn her away.

But just like how he never quite got up the courage to give her a hug, despite how much his heart broke at seeing her in such a distraught state, he also couldn't find a way to vocalize how he felt without sounding like a total creep. Instead, he said, "I picked up some fresh lemons from the supermarket yesterday."

He held his breath waiting, worried about her reaction, but it turned out that was exactly the right thing to say if the genuine, albeit small, smile Sansa Stark gave him in response was any indication.

He was currently watching his baking partner assemble makeshift ramekins from aluminum foil, having finished mixing the batter up only a moment before. Just as Jon had decided to be alarmed later about just how efficient she had gotten at making the things, his phone rang. Eyeing his hands covered in flour, he groaned, then promptly got hit in the face with a flying towel.

Sansa giggling at his response made his heart do a funny flip inside his chest, which he decided would be best to just completely ignore.

"Thanks," he laughed, wiping his hands clean and rushing to pick up the phone. He was in such a hurry that he didn't even check to see who it was, for fear of missing the call. "Hello?"

"Jon?"

He recognized his best friend's voice instantly, and apparently so did the girl across from him, who paused in her aluminum foil creation and stiffened. She turned her wide eyes to him and ripped her hands away from the foil as if she had been scalded.

"Jon? Are you still there?"

Giving what he hoped was a comforting look to Sansa, Jon coughed and said, "Yeah, sorry. What's up?"

"I need your help," Robb growled and Jon wasn't sure that he had ever heard his friend quite so angry.

He felt a sense of dread wash over him and noticed how Sansa had started fiddling with the sleeves of her jacket. A jacket she had not yet taken off despite having been at his apartment going on an hour. Her gloves were still on, too. Sansa had always complained about how cold his place was, so he hadn't thought much of it before. Now he cursed himself silently for being so dense.

Jon took a step forward. "What happened?" He didn't know if he was asking Robb or Robb's sister, but he had a feeling their answers would be the same.

Sansa opened her mouth to speak when Jon realized Robb had already started explaining. He caught the end portion of "...her ex-boyfriend Joffrey, remember him?"

"Yeah, I remember him." He waited until Sansa was looking him directly in the eye before asking, "Do you need help in beating him up?"

In front of him, Sansa's noticeably paled. On the phone, Robb laughed, then quickly sobered. "No, Arya and I already took care of him. I need your help finding Sansa."

The girl in question was obviously still listening in, because at those words she immediately stepped back from the counter and looked ready to run. Before she could move another inch, Jon's arm darted out and pinned her hand down with his own. She tried to wriggle from his grasp, but he held firm.

Robb apparently took Jon's lack of response to mean that he needed further convincing. "Look man... she broke up with him over a month ago." This revelation caused Jon to blink long and hard, loosening his grip somewhat on Sansa. She didn't pull her hand back, though, just nodded in confirmation.

That put him in uncharted territory. Sansa had been to his apartment a handful of times in the past year, sure. But only after particularly rough arguments with her boyfriend at the time, and even if they had broken up when she'd visited Jon, by the next day they were always back together again. This time was different.

Only to further confirm his suspicions that this wasn't just another lover's quarrel, Sansa began to shake under Jon's hand, and looking back up he realized she had started crying again. Meanwhile, Robb continued his explanation, "The three of us were out catching a movie and Sansa went up to go to the restroom." Robb sucked in a breath, causing a brief hiss of static to crackle over the line. "When she didn't come back for thirty minutes, Arya went out to check on her."

As he thought over what he was hearing, Jon gently removed the glove covering Sansa's left hand. He instantly clamped his jaw shut, having expected what he saw, but still wishing that he wasn't seeing the red blood caked under her fingernails. "And then Arya came running back in down the aisle yelling about Joffrey. When I got out into the lobby, Sansa was gone and Joffrey was writhing on the floor with a bloody nose." Jon ran a thumb over Sansa's knuckles absentmindedly and she sucked in a breath. "There were scratch marks all over his face and neck, man."

"Did you get a shot in?"

"Yes." One word never held so much meaning. "So will you help?"

Jon paused and looked up at Sansa's face, surprised but relieved to see that she had stopped crying. Her expression clearly said how she felt about what Jon was intending to do, but when he wrapped his hand around hers and gave a comforting squeeze, he saw her resolve crack. "She's with me."

"I know it's really late and everything, but... wait, what?" Robb exclaimed.

"Sansa's here at my apartment," Jon said, then hung up the phone. He gave a long look at the girl in front of him. "You know you're going to have to tell him everything that happened."

When Sansa pulled her hand away, he felt an unexplainable sense of loss coupled with a renewed worry that she was going to run again. That's just what he needed - Robb arriving at his apartment to find his sister gone and demanding explanations of why she was even there in the first place.

Instead, Sansa glared at him as she took off her other glove and then her coat. "I know." Her mouth quirked upwards into a smirk. "But I'm still expecting lemon cakes."

Title inspired by the book "The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake"

Let me know what you think! I appreciate any and all feedback.