Notes: AAAAAAAAAAAAAh! So sorry for the delay!

Thank you all sooooo much for all the amazing comments, and all the great support! I am really happy you guys enjoyed this piece of fluff so much!

This is the last chapter so we have some love to go around.

It hasn't been beta read -I've just finished it -so I hope it is readable... Enjoy the love!

Chapter 4

Sansa rested her head against the side of the tub and took a deep breath. This day had been… Strange, from beginning to end.

First, she woke up in bed with Jon. For a moment, it had been like a dream she had sometimes: just the two of them, no masks or doubts, just a normal couple together. She was almost certain he'd called her "sweet girl" and it was the loveliest thing she'd ever heard.

Then he went ahead and apologized for "imposing" on her, as if Jon ever did things like that. He went out of his way to make her comfortable at Winterfell. And she wasn't complaining! She wasn't. His care, his thoughtfulness was one of the thing she loved the most about him. He comforted her in a way she never expected of anyone, after her parents died. She just wished he'd stop treating her like she was made of spun glass.

After that, Brienne had come and told her about the strange conversation she had with Jon.

Sansa wanted to believe her -badly -but she was so wary of hoping. She wished she could just give him her heart, and be honest about what she felt and her dreams for their marriage… But then what?

What if Brienne was wrong?

What if Jon didn't really love her that way?

Shouldn't she be content with what she had? Her life was so much better now, why demand more? Why risk the security she had?

Because Jon is worth it, a traitorous voice whispered in her head.

Sansa sighed and massaged her temples. This wasn't taking her anywhere.

She heard the door open. "Millie, can you wash my hair?"

There was a moment of silence, when Sansa considered turning around, when she heard the reply, "I'm not Millie, my Lady, but I can wash your hair."

She gasped and turned around, finding Jon standing a few steps away from the tub. "Jon! I…"

She could just stare at him, as he stood there. He wasn't wearing his doublet anymore, just his shirt, pants and boots. His hair, normally tied back, was loose, letting the riot of curls to fall around his face and to his shoulders.

Her husband was a truly handsome man.

Jon cleared his throat. "Do you mind?" He indicated the stool by the tub.

Sansa decided she could be brave. "Not at all." She went back to her original position and tried to calm her heart. It was beating so loud, she worried Jon might hear it.

She heard as he sat by the tub side and Sansa resisted the urge to cover herself. Only her shoulders were out of the water, but it was still water; the lines of her body were more than obvious. But, no. She'd seen him the night before, it was only fair he took his chance to look at her.

"How was your day?" Jon asked her, his voice low and rough and so dear to her, she felt her worries melting away.

"Busy. How was yours?" She asked back as she felt him lathering her hair.

She enjoyed his voice as he told her about the little things, then she asked about the trip he'd returned from, just so she could keep listening to him as he spoke.

"Are you sleeping, Sansa?" She heard him chuckle, clearly amused.

"No." She answered, but her eyes were still closed. "I'm paying attention."

He chuckled once more, the sound warming her heart. It was so nice to see him like this: happier, smiling more. Jon had been through too much, he deserved some peace.

Don't you? Together? The same voice whispered in her mind.

He poured water over her hair, then she smelled roses and knew he was about to put oil on her hair.

"I also…" Jon paused, then clearly his throat. "I also talked to Brienne today."

She felt her heart skip a beat. She didn't expect him to admit to that. "I know." She spoke softly.

Jon chuckled. "So she told you? I should've expected that."

She felt his fingers running through the wet strands of her hair and sighed. "She felt it was the right thing to do." Sansa informed Jon.

"Well, she's loyal to you." If Sansa wasn't mistaken there was a bit of bashfulness in his voice. "What…" He cleared his throat. "What did she tell you exactly?"

"She…" Sansa cleared her throat, then tried again. "According to her, she told me exactly what you asked her, word by word."

Jon's fingers left Sansa's hair and she almost protested it. Then she felt the linen pressed against her scalp, as he dried her locks somewhat.

They were silent during the short process, and -surprisingly -it was Jon who broke it.

"Sansa." He called gently.

She turned her head to him, looking at him over her shoulder. A sudden wave of shyness had taken over her, and she wasn't sure what she'd reveal if she looked at him now.

However, what caught her were Jon's eyes: they were looking at her like she was the answer to all of the universe's questions, like she was precious, like he…

"Sansa." He repeated as he laid his hand on her nape and pulled her gently towards him. "My beautiful wife."

His voice was gruff and husky and so Jon, that Sansa felt her heart melting inside her chest. The look in his eyes made her turn more towards him, even though her mouth was dry and there were butterflies dancing in her belly.

He was taking in her face, his eyes devouring the lines of it, as if he couldn't believe she was real and was right in front of his eyes.

His thumb grazed the line of her jaw. "My sweet girl."

"Jon?" There was a question in her voice, one that barely came out.

Jon looked into her eyes and he leaned his head in her direction. Sansa didn't dare close hers, even as she felt his breath against her lips; she was scared it was a dream.

The first touch of his lips made her believe that, if this was a dream, she didn't wish to ever wake up from it.

She sighed against his mouth, as he kissed her with a gentleness that threatened to break her heart in the best possible way. His lips were careful and reverent as they tasted hers, his other hand cradled her face gently, as he kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her…

There was no hurry in Jon now, just a deep desire to cherish this moment, but Sansa didn't like how the tub was separating them.

So when Jon finally pulled back –minimally, she could still feel him breathing –she murmured, "I'm ready to get out of the tub."

Jon gave her a probing look, probably unsure of what that meant for them.

"Can you pass me the linen, Jon?" She asked him, indicating the linen left by the tub.

He cleared his throat. "Of course."

He turned to grab it, and Sansa did the boldest thing she'd ever dared to do in front of her husband: she stood up.

Jon was sitting there, looking up at her as water ran down her body in rivulets, and she'd never felt safer or more beautiful, because this was Jon seeing her.

He got up slowly, then spread the linen for her, without saying a word, but his eyes never left her face.

Sansa stepped out of the tub and turned her back to him. "Thank you." She murmured when he dropped it over her shoulder.

"You're welcome." He said back. "Now what?"

She turned to him and offered him a smile. "Now I believe you should take me to bed."

Jon looked dumbfounded for a moment. Sansa thought it was an endearing look on him.

"Bed?" He asked, his voice husky.

Her right hand was shaking when she lifted it, her heart was beating way too fast, and there was a fear -totally unfounded -that she was making a mistake, and Jon didn't want her like that.

She told this part of herself to shut up; he'd kissed her.

So she touched his face gently, feeling the scratch of his beard against the palm of her hand. "Yes, the bed, Jon." She kissed him softly.

That probably made Jon snap out of his shock, because he put one arm on Sansa's back, the other behind her knees and picked her up in the next instant. Sansa gasped as her arms went around his neck automatically.

Jon gave her a smirk -a small one -and she ended giggling.

Giggling. She was giggling on her husband's arms. When had that happened?

Jon sat her gently on the bed, then put his knee on the mattress, but didn't climb on it, as if he was waiting for her permission.

Sansa took a deep breath. "I think the shirt can go."

Jon's smirk got bigger. "Really?" His voice was teasing.

Sansa nodded, completely serious. "Yes."

Jon pulled the shirt off, showing his chest. Sansa wanted to look at his scars, kiss each one of them, because they were the proof of how strong he was, how good, but she knew that Jon didn't like them.

She'd have another day to kiss those scars, she promised herself. Tonight, she'd let Jon be comfortable.

She picked his hand and pulled him, until they were both lying in bed, his body blanketing hers. Jon touched her face and kissed her again, still tender and sweet, making sure his body wasn't crushing hers.

Finally his hand found the know that was holding the linen together. They broke the kiss and Jon rested his forehead against Sansa's. "Can I?" He asked, his voice low, like he was asking her to share a secret.

"I…" Sansa took a deep breath. "I also have scars." She finally confided, because he'd be able to see them better now, he was closer, more focused.

"Sansa." The hand on her face made sure she was looking into his eyes now. "This isn't about the scars, or the past." He told her gently. "This is about us; you and me, and our future together."

Sansa felt tears gathering in her eyes, but she didn't want to cry and ruin the moment, so she kissed Jon again and helped him undo the knot.

His hand pushed the linen open, exposing her body to him, but he kept on kissing her. She felt his hand traveling her side, his exposed chest against hers. Jon was so warm, so strong, so… Present. Perhaps it was a strange thing to think, but what she loved the most about Jon it was how dependable he was; if he promised he'd be there, if he'd promised he'd protect her, then he would.

She'd stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop a long time ago. She'd learned that Jon was a man of his word, and even if he didn't love her like she loved him, he'd always take care of her.

And now… Now he loved her.

Right?

"Hey." He called gently. "Where did you go?" He asked her, a small frown appearing.

"I…" She cleared her throat, then she cradled his face between her hands. "I just want to say… I love you, Jon."

Jon was still for a long second, and Sansa was already cursing herself, when he opened a smile. Not a grin, or a smirk, but a full smile, where she could see all of his teeth, a smile that made his eyes shine brighter than a full moon.

Jon Snow was smiling at her.

"I…" He let his forehead rest against hers. "I was afraid of hoping." He admitted. "And you know I'm terrible with words."

"Who? You?" She teased, even if her voice was breathless with the excitement growing within her chest.

"I love you too." He confessed, in that serious tone, that was so him, so Jon.

But then he let his hand run down her thigh and settled himself more firmly in the cradle of her hips, and Sansa felt a heat pooling in the pit of her stomach.

"Let me show you how much." Jon offered.

She accepted it gracefully.

xXx

Much, much later they were lying together in bed, their naked bodies pressed close; Sansa's head resting on Jon's chest, her leg thrown over his hip. He had an arm around her, bringing her closer, while his other hand caressed her knuckles.

When did he get this fortunate? What did he do to deserve such happiness?

"What are you thinking about?" Sansa asked, her fingers moving on his hand.

"Us." He replied honestly. "This." Jon brought her hand to his lips and dropped a kiss there.

She moved her head so she could look at him. "How so?"

"I have no idea what I've done to deserve a chance like this." He told her. "But I'm damn grateful that I did it."

"No idea?" Sansa repeated, incredulity coloring her voice. She raised herself on her elbow to be face to face with him, and Jon groaned in disappointment as some space was put between them.

"Jon!" There was reproach on her voice, but no aggression. "You brought us home. You fought for us; you protected me, when I thought nobody else would ever do it. You respected me, even when it meant hiding what you felt." She cupped his face on her hand. "You've always been there for me. Why would I not love you?"

Jon groaned, then threaded his fingers through her hair to pull her for a deep kiss. They were both breathless when they pulled apart and, somehow, Sansa was sprawled on top of Jon, their foreheads still touching.

"I can't believe it took all of Winterfell telling me how stupid I am, to see this." He murmured.

Sansa leaned back a bit to look at him, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What?"

Jon groaned. "Arya, Tormund, Davos… Even Brienne! They all informed me that I had no idea of what was going on."

Sansa giggled and dropped a sweet kiss to his lips. "Well, I'm thankful they did, then. Otherwise who knows how long it would've taken us to be here."

She wasn't wrong.

Jon rolled his body and pinned her to the bed. "Aye. So now, I would like to make up for all the time I made s wait."

"We waited together, because we were both too scared to share the truth." She indicated gently.

Jon kissed her collarbone. "That might be." He conceded, dropping another kiss to the valley between her breasts. "But now, I have some personal vows I'd like to keep." A kiss to her belly.

"Again?" She giggled as she felt his tongue tracing her hip bones.

"Again, and again, and again…" The rest of his words were lost as he dipped his head to that place between her legs and Sansa fell away to a world of pleasure.

Definitely worth the wait.

Notes: Feelings? Thoughts?

Jon finally did something! lol

I hope you enoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Thank you for the love!