She had been waiting for this moment for weeks.
Standing there on the battlements, Sansa watched as Jon and company arrived, reminding her much of the day years ago when Robert Baratheon had come to Winterfell. Only this time... There were dragons. As they flew overhead, she could not stop the cold sense of dread that settled into the pit of her stomach, knowing these dragons were supposed to be their saviors... But they would be the North's end. Sansa turned and crossed the battlement, her eyes never once straying from the sight of those two dragons, wondering if all was to be lost. These dragons, they'd eat them out of house and home. Not to mention the thousands of soldiers marching their way into Wintertown and down to Winterfell. The long line of them seemed endless. Sansa shuddered, a sudden chill racing the length of her spine as she turned back to face front.
And then she saw them.
It was Jon and with him a woman she knew had to be Daenerys Targaryen. They were far but even from such a distance her silver hair was unmistakable. Swallowing down her fears, Sansa made her way down from the battlements, back down towards the courtyard where already people had begun to gather. Arya and Brienne already stood across the way, an odd looking pair to say the least, but the sight of them gave her courage. Bran was missing, but she wasn't surprised he'd not come down to greet this Dragon queen and her army. He said he had to speak with Jon and while it had seemed important, he had not spoken of the details. She had begun to grow accustomed to her changed siblings- both Arya and Bran were far from the people she recalled from childhood. Though, she supposed they must have thought the same of her. She took a single step forward, preparing herself to join Arya and Brienne, but the gates suddenly opened and it was Jon alone on his horse, not a soul with him as he rode through.
Sansa felt her heart turnover, her breath catching in her throat as Jon slid down from his horse, his eyes only on her. He crossed the courtyard in several strides, taking her into his arms before everyone there. He was warm and solid, the feeling of his arms around her like that of a perfect dream. "Trust in me." Was all he whispered, his breath warm against the shell of her ear as her eyes raised, seeing the silver-haired woman as she approached, her horse left behind somewhere else. Another man walked beside her, a man she did not recognize, but Sansa could see he would not stray from her side.
Jon released her a moment later, stepping back as Daenerys stepped up before them, a smile twitching on her lips. For a moment, Sansa was awestruck by the queen's beauty- her violet eyes were like that of a spring bloom, her skin pale and probably soft to the touch. But then she caught herself, remembering who she was and what was happening, and Sansa looked down at her from where she stood. "Winterfell is yours, your grace," she said by way of a greeting, her words an echo of those her own father had spoken to Robert Baratheon so long ago. The dragon queen smiled again, exchanging pleasantries for only a moment longer before Sansa bid a serving man to her side, indicating for him to show the queen to the rooms she'd had prepared for her.
The moment the queen had disappeared through the doors leading inside, Arya had pounced, and for the first time since their own reunion Sansa saw a piece of the little sister she'd once had. Sansa watched as they embraced, Jon's smile as true as she had always thought it would be. A moment later Jon was turning back to her, his dark eyes finding her own, and Sansa's heart skipped a beat. She had so much to tell him... So very much she wasn't even sure where to begin. "Jon... I-"
"I should see that she's settled properly." Jon suddenly spoke, looking towards the doors that Daenerys had just disappeared through. Sansa blinked but her face did not betray her and she merely nodded, saying she understood. She watched him go, that sinking feeling returning as she absently put a hand to her abdomen, wondering what he would say when she told him the truth.
[ x x x ]
He hated hearing her say those words.
Winterfell is yours, your grace. Sansa's words echoed through his mind, over and over again, every time like a knife to his gut. They had worked so hard to gain Winterfell back and now, just like that, it belonged to someone else. He knew it must have killed her to say such a thing to anyone, let alone this foreign queen he'd brought with him. He knew what it must have looked like to anyone- him riding into Winterfell beside the beautiful dragon queen- but this was how it had to be. No matter what happened, he had to ensure everyone around him believed his motives just as much as Daenerys herself did. Soon... Soon he would tell Sansa the truth. But for now, even her he would have to keep in the dark.
He did as he said, making his way to Daenerys' rooms to ensure she would be comfortable there; to his shock, he found her lodged in the Lord's chambers, Sansa's own chambers. The same ones he'd given to her months before when they had won the battle against Ramsay Bolton. First her home, now her own rooms? Knocking on the door, Daenerys opened it with a smile, her picture-like features glowing with renewed warmth. "Jon," she greeted, allowing him entrance, shutting the door behind him. She had shed her warm, white jacket and blood red gloves, both thrown over the back of the chair closest to the fire. "Your sister seems..." She trailed off, as if trying to find the right word to say without causing offense. "Well, she's quite beautiful." Daenerys finally recovered, chuckling softly. "Though it would seem she was not happy to welcome me to Winterfell." She returned to the chair she'd clearly been sitting in before his arrival, her long silver hair falling across one shoulder as she leaned over to begin unlacing her boots.
"You'll have to forgive her, she's only just got Winterfell back. It must pain her to offer her home to someone else, queen or no queen." Jon stepped further into the room, closer to the fire that brought him no warmth at all. He found he wanted nothing more than to return to Sansa. Jon knew he'd upset her out in the courtyard, leaving her so quickly... But all of this... It was for her. "I just wanted to ensure you were comfortable." Daenerys raised her head to look at him then, perhaps taken by surprise, but then her features softened and she nodded.
They made small talk for just a few more minutes before Jon excused himself, heading down the corridors towards the Great Hall. Inside he found a single servant who jumped at the sight of him, offering a quick bow, stumbling over a greeting. "What room is Lady Stark housed in now?" The man replied that it was her old childhood rooms to which Jon thanked him and left, this time his feet carrying him towards the chambers he'd not visited since their childhood days.
Knocking on her door, he heard her shuffling behind it before she opened it, her smile at once brightening her face. "Jon." She greeted as she stepped back, allowing him entrance, the door closing behind them. Without a word, Jon took her back into his arms, holding onto her for far longer than he'd dared to do out in the courtyard. For a split second she stiffened, but then he felt her yield to his embrace, sinking against his chest as her own arms came around his waist. "I missed you." Her voice was muffled against his shoulder and Jon drew back then, holding her at arms length, unwilling to completely release her from his grasp. It was as if she'd grown more beautiful in these weeks since he'd left, a glow about her he'd never truly noticed before. He attributed it to her becoming healthy again, beginning to rise above everything that had happened to her. What else could it be, after all?
"I've missed you," he replied, giving her another quick squeeze before finally letting go, though he felt the cold the moment she'd gone from his arms. "You must tell me everything that's happened while I've been away." Their correspondence had been slim, only a few quick and simple coded messages that hadn't given him much information. He took her by the hands, leading her towards her bed, both of them settling themselves upon the edge beside one another. Jon didn't let go of her hands, he couldn't, he had to still yet feel her soft skin against his. "You didn't have to give her your rooms, you know." Jon said softly, gesturing about the room they sat in, his hand returning to sit upon her leg. "She could have stayed here, you didn't have to give her yours."
Sansa smiled, shaking her head. "You remember, father always gave his rooms to a visitor. It was the right thing to do." She slipped her other free hand into place over his, still settled there upon her thigh. Tell him, she thought, tell him while you've got the chance! She opened her mouth as if she meant to speak but there came a knock on her chamber door and at once Jon jumped up, the door opening only a second later.
"Lady Stark... My lord, a rider... At the gate." The chamberlain said, looking from one to the other, not quite noticing the awkward look on either of their faces. "He says he's Jaime Lannister." Sansa was on her feet then, her blue eyes wide as she nodded, striding past Jon who followed after her, both of them making their way back down towards the courtyard. All she could think was later... I'll tell him later. A silent promise to herself and to the life she carried within her.
[ x x x ]
So much had happened in these last few days, Sansa could scarcely wrap her mind around it.
Jaime Lannister had indeed showed up at their gates and pledged his life to her, to House Stark, and to the fight for the living. Though most would have distrusted him, Sansa accepted his vow and gave hers back, thus welcoming him into Winterfell. After living the life she had these last few years, she'd learned to trust almost no one, but something about Jaime Lannister had felt... Honest. Had felt right. And Brienne had spoken to his true skill as a swordsman and she supposed if nothing else they would be glad to have him on their side in the fight against the Night King.
The Night King... The very thought of him sent shivers down her spine. As the days grew colder, she knew the final battle was coming. This would be a fight between the living and the dead and if they lost... No, she couldn't think that way. Jon wouldn't lose. She walked through the courtyard as she did every morning, surveying the smiths as they forged weapons made from the dragonglass Jon and Daenerys had brought. She stopped for a moment to exchange words with Gendry, who's easy going smile calmed her, his dark eyes a mirror of the father he'd never got to know. It was well known who Gendry's father had been, the one time King Robert Baratheon, the only living bastard of his reign. Though he didn't know who his mother was, there were some who said it was a peasant girl, conceived back during his days as a soldier. She felt sad for him, for he'd known no parent at all.
Taking her leave from Gendry, she made her way further down the line, stopping only when she caught sight of that silver-hair reflecting the cold, winter sun. Daenerys was walking along the outer edge of the courtyard with Jon and she was surprised to see the dragon queen leaning on his arm, head tilted in as she listened to Jon speak. Sansa felt her stomach sink, her cheeks growing warm as she watched them go, looking quite like lovers sneaking off to be alone. It was like a gut punch, the breath stolen from her very lungs. For a long moment she stood there, completely and utterly frozen, unable to look away as they continued on, her heart fluttering fast within her chest.
"Lady Stark?"
She nearly lept from her skin, turning so fast she nearly stumbled and the man before her caught her elbow, righting her stance. "Forgive me, my lady." Jaime Lannister stood before her then, his eyes finding hers, perhaps taking note of the wild look to her own, but not mentioning it. "I didn't mean to startle you." He watched as her features changed and suddenly she was Lady Stark again, not the young girl he'd just interrupted, a young woman forced to partake in a dark and gloomy world. "I came to speak to you of something." He had held his tongue these first few days at Winterfell, knowing this alliance with the dragon queen was vital to their war against the Night King, but... He had pledged himself to this young woman and her house. He owed her the truth and the knowledge he had of all he'd witnessed Daenerys Targaryen do. "Might we walk?" He offered her his arm then and she took it, allowing him to lead her, all the while beginning the long conversation they would have to have.
[ x x x ]
She tried to tell herself it didn't matter. Jon didn't owe her anything, after all. It was true... They had slept together that night before he left for Dragonstone. She had wanted it as much as he had, so she didn't blame him for the aftermath, she knew as well as any woman what coupling could lead to. How she'd gone this long without conceiving a child had convinced her she was barren- had Ramsay not beat her for thinking so, too? Besides... There were ways of handling an unwanted child. She and Jon were half-siblings, perhaps a child of theirs was an abomination... She reasoned with herself, citing Joffrey as reason enough to believe siblings should never create a child. But then again... Myrcella and Tommen had been normal enough, hadn't they?
Needing time alone, Sansa found herself climbing the old, crumbling steps up to the broken tower which years ago, Bran had fallen from. Or been pushed... Sometimes she wasn't certain which it had been. But, this place felt like the only place she'd not be disturbed, the only place she could sit and think without someone saying Lady Stark. And it was here, only here, that she sank into an old dusty chair and began to cry. Heartfelt sobs that caught in her throat, her shoulders shaking as she curved into herself, wishing with all of her might that this could be easy. But life had proven to her time and time again that nothing was ever easy. And yet... This was more painful than she'd ever thought heartbreak could be.
It was a short time later, hours perhaps, she had lost track of time, when she finally knew all of her tears had been shed. Rising up from the chair, she wiped her face dry and crossed the room to stand at the window, fingertips tracing the old, broken stones. "Sansa!" She turned at the sound of his voice, her eyes taking in the sight of him in the doorway, his worry evident as he crossed the room in three great strides to take her into his arms. "I've been looking everywhere for you!" His tone was full of relief, his grip warm and strong, but Sansa pulled away and turned back to look out the window, unable to look at him. "Sansa...?" Now his tone had changed, surprised, perhaps even hurt. She knew what his face must have looked like, those dark eyes widening slightly, his jaw tight. "What's wrong?"
Everything. The word was on the tip of her tongue, so close she almost said it. "Have you asked her about the Battle of the Goldroad?" She said instead, whirling back around to face him, watching as his face screwed up as it always did when he was thinking about what was said to him. It was endearing. She hated herself for thinking so. "Has Samwell asked about his father? His brother?" Jon was understanding then, slowly, but he was. "She burned them, Jon. Your lover queen has burned them alive. And all the supplies the Lannister army was taking back to King's Landing. All the food, grain, all of the supplies she could have sent North to feed her army and ours. Your queen has doomed us to starvation." By the time she finished ranting, she was breathless, chest heaving as she made to rush past him, but Jon caught her by the arm, forcing her back.
His dark eyes were like a raging storm, his mouth a permanent frown as he fought to find the words to say to her. "I... No," he finally admitted, shaking his head as all of the fight went out of him. "I didn't know." He thought of his friend, Sam, and how he would have to know the fate of his family. He thought of the North, already locked into a long winter, now with thousands of soliders to feed. He thought of the dragons that had come with them, dragons that would know no difference between livestock or children, that would eat what should have been theirs. This was why he did not deserve a crown, a title of any kind. He knew nothing of ruling beyond pretty speeches and wielding a sword. But this girl before him... She knew it better than him. Her blue eyes were dark with grief, red rimmed and swollen, telling him she'd been crying up here. Now he understood why she'd been hiding. She took her role as Lady of Winterfell seriously and she'd not wanted anyone to see her in such a state. "Sansa... I know you don't want to hear this, but we need her. No matter what she's done, we needed her dragonglass, her alliance."
Sansa laughed, pulling back again, shaking her head. "Of course you would say that." Her tone was dark, a tone he'd never heard her use before. Now he was recalling the other words she'd said only moments before, lost to him when he'd heard of the Tarly's death. Your lover queen, she had called Daenerys, reminding him that he had never told her the truth. He supposed in some ways, this was good, because it meant no one suspected a thing from him. But seeing her there looking like that, he knew he had to tell her the truth. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off as she spoke two simple, but life changing words. "I'm pregnant."
For a moment the world seemed to stop spinning. Jon blinked, faltering as he gazed back at her, not quite seeing her. "Pregnant...?" He parroted back, recalling the night they'd spent together before he had left for Dragonstone. At once the world began to spin again and Jon could not stop himself from drawing her back into his arms again. She struggled against him for a few moments, but then she ceased, clinging to the front of his tunic as she sagged against him. It was as if the weight of the world had finally lifted from her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Sansa," he whispered against the crown of her head, one hand stroking her long, vibrant hair, the other around her waist pressed into the small of her back. "I'm sorry," he murmured again, knowing in some ways he had failed her. He had coupled with her that night without thinking of what could happen, led by his feelings for her, and then had gone off to Dragonstone to forge an alliance with Daenerys. He'd never thought doing such a thing would mean what it meant for him, pretending to fall for her, sharing her bed all so she would help him help the North. Though he could argue he had done it all for her, Jon knew he owed her more than that. More than it's all for you. Besides, he owed her the truth of what Bran had just told him hours before.
And so he opened his mouth and began to talk.
He talked for what could have been hours- long enough that the afternoon sun had begun to sink and cast the old tower into darkness. He had settled himself into the old chair, pulling her onto his lap while they talked. For the first time since his return, they could talk without worry of being discovered, without their important roles hanging over their heads. They could just be them- Jon and Sansa, not King in the North or Lady of Winterfell. Jon knew now he had a much bigger reason to fight the Night King, he had more than just a home to fight for. He had a child. He had a true love. Jon knew, without a doubt, there was nothing he wouldn't do for this woman tucked into his arms, her red hair a waterfall over her shoulder as she leaned her head on his. He did not deserve such a perfect woman.
It was a few minutes into the silence that had fallen after he'd finished speaking and Jon felt her raise her head from his shoulder to face him. Over her shoulder he could see the sunset sky, crimson and gold streaking across the blue as the sun sank beneath the horizon. He had always thought of her at the sunset. "I love you, Sansa." He spoke simply, knowing those words were the truth of his heart. Reaching out, he put his hand against the flat plane of her stomach, knowing in the coming months it would begin to curve with the growth of their child and he knew... He had to do the right thing by her and the child. He loved her with every piece of him. Leaning in, he captured her mouth with his and for a long moment, everything in his world was perfect.
But as always, nothing could stay perfect forever.
They both heard the footsteps a moment too late- as they broke apart and turned, it was Jaime Lannister standing there, looking pale and worried. But for a single moment, his expression changed and he smiled, as if he understood, watching as Sansa slid from Jon's lap and stood, Jon rising a moment later. "My lord, a white walker has been spotted outside Wintertown." Back to business and both Jon and Sansa could appreciate that. She felt a chill rush through her and she could not stop herself from clutching his hand. "And so it begins." Jaime said before he turned and went from the room, leaving them alone once again.
Though he would have given anything to remain up there in that broken tower with Sansa, he knew what he had to do. And so he kept his hand in hers, walking her down the crumbling stone steps and back out into the falling darkness of night, leading her back towards the doors that would lead them inside. "Gather what you need and then I will take you to the crypts." He shook his head when she opened her mouth, as if she meant to argue with him. "You will be safest there." She sighed but then nodded, giving his hand a single squeeze before she made to go, but a grip on her hand made her turn back. "But first... Meet me in the godswood." Her eyes widened for a moment but then she nodded and then he let her go, watching as she disappeared around a corner, off to begin taking command of Winterfell, preparing its inhabitants for the fight to come.
And Jon went out into the courtyard, joining Jaime and Tormund and all of the others, where they would speak one last time about their battle plans. Then... The fight would begin. But first, he had something important to handle. Excusing himself, he wandered back into Winterfell and found Sam with Gilly, already ushering her down the hall that would lead them into the crypts. "Sam..." Jon caught his attention and the man turned, his easy going smile appearing at the sight of him. "Can I borrow you, for just a short time?" Sam arched a brow in question but then nodded, following after him after sending Gilly and baby Sam down to where they would be safe in the fight to come.
Sam asked no questions as they approached the heart tree and for that, Jon was thankful. He knew that through the faith of the Old Gods that there were no priests, no specific person needed to marry two people. And so he called upon the only person he could trust with such a thing.
Standing there beneath the heart tree, it was only a few minutes before he heard her approaching footsteps. She had changed gowns, a new gown of the darkest blues, something quite like fish scales, reminding him of her tie to House Tully through Catelyn Stark. He could catch glimpses of it beneath her cloak in the dying sunlight. "Jon, what's going on?" She asked, close enough now that she noticed Sam behind him. He said nothing as he took her hands and drew her close, breathing in her sweet, familiar scent.
"Marry me."
A smile curved on her lips and she then nodded, needing no words to say in a moment like this. And so Jon pulled from his doublet a single winter rose, its blue petals soft and scented as he tucked it into her hair, a call back to the mother he had never known. Then, taking her by the hands, they turned to face Sam who smiled and began to speak, weaving the words that would commit them to each other before the Old Gods and the New, words that would no matter what happened in the end of the war, protect her and their child.
Then he took her to the crypts and left her there with the others who could not fight in the battle, holding onto her for a moment longer than he'd intended, whispering words against her ear. "Until morning, wife..."
And then... He was gone. Sansa stood watching him go, her heart beating fast in her chest, knowing this very well could have been the last time she saw him alive. No, she told herself, you can't think like that. Without thinking, she put a hand to her abdomen and knew Jon would come back for her... No, he would come back for them. And that was all she could hope for. It was all she could believe.