Chapter 7: Between tears and smiles.
Mornings in Winterfell became like evenings, the sun would not shine properly. Jon was emotionally feeling very strange. It had been two days since Sansa Stark was avoiding Jon Snow, and that wasn't tolerable for him. Everytime, he would try to talk to her, she seemed to know beforehand and hence leaves.
Works in Winterfell were growing larger and Jon hardly got time to rest. The council meetings, helping weapon practicing, signing the letters Maester Ben wrote inviting different Northern houses to the feast.
There had been two council meetings these two days and both time Jon tried talking to Sansa, she wouldn't directly talk to him. Every time he tried to look into her eyes, she would turn her gaze into something that never existed.
The day before, he saw her watching the young boys practice with Brienne. When he came next to her to restore what was broken, she pretended that he didn't even exist. But she was too smart to give other people around them the slightest idea of their arguments. She knew her courtesies. She was being so formal with him that it started to annoy him with her cold courtesies. Sometimes she would see straight through him, he truly wanted to do anything that would please her, he wanted to tell her, the strong emotions he had for her. But she seemed to stubborn.
Remembering the close moments with Sansa, he finds himself smiling even in sadness.
It was evening when Sansa was watching the sword practice by some boys at the courtyard when she heard footsteps approaching and saw Tormund walking towards her. She instantly knew why he was there, she had came to notice the way he makes an excuse to be on the same place where there was Brienne. Sansa couldn't help but chuckle a bit.
"My Lady", Tormund didn't knew how to bow or he didn't remember that he should do it. But it was okay to Sansa.
"Tormund", she nodded and smiled.
"This tall thing can teach well too", Tormund referred to Brienne and laughed to himself making a strange sound.
"Yes, she is one of the best swords' which is why Jon requested her to teach them", Sansa replied proudly.
"She fierce just like this one", Tormund joked sharpening the end of the spear he was holding.
Sansa let out a small chuckle.
"Where is Snow?", Tormund looked down to the courtyard.
"Maybe in archery", Sansa said pretending nonchalant. She didn't care where he was just like he wouldn't care too. For two days, she was avoiding him.
"Aye, he will be a good King. He works hard. He will bring changes. It was for him I let my man fight for him. We would've been dead if it wasn't for him", Tormund contemplated, probably remembering his people who were dead.
"How did Jon got to help you, or bring you all south of the wall?", Sansa asked curiously. She hadn't ever thought of how was it all related.
"He didn't tell you?", Tormund asked.
"No, actually we're not that close since childhood. Not now, maybe never will be ..", Sansa let out a small smile, painful smile. Her eyes could never pretend. ".. so he wouldn't tell me", Sansa continued softly.
"When I saw you both in Castle Black embracing each other I thought you as his long lost love from Winterfell.", Tormund joked and laughed loudly.
Sansa felt shy and embarrassed, but joined his laughter awkwardly.
"So when I got to know you're his sister, I knew that you too need each other more than anything. ", Tormund stopped. "You're the only one with whom I saw him smile after long time"
"You saw Jon smile before?", Sansa couldn't help but chuckle imaging Jon smiling. He really did look good to her when he smiled.
"Aye, he laughed with his lover, she was one of us"
"Jon? Jon...had a lover?", Sansa asked getting amused. Sansa somehow couldn't bring herself to believe Jon had a lover and that it was a wildling. He was a honorable man, honest and noble, just like her father but then, her father too had a bastard child, didn't he?
"Aye, her hair was 'kissed by fire', we call it lucky"
"What is kissed by fire?" Sansa narrowed her eyes in curiousness.
"Like yours, it is why I thought you might be his former lover" Tormund said grinning widely.
"Kissed by fire", Sansa whispered to herself. "What happened to her", she asked coinfused.
"She died?
"Died?"
"You ask too many questions, My Lady, don't you?"
"Do I? You should meet my sister than", Sansa let out a smirk.
"Aye no doubt she will give me a tougher time", Tormund started to laugh uncontrollably. "You ask your King Brother, he"ll tell you everything.
"I don't think so", Sansa lowered her eyes to her hands.
"What I thought was that he would do anything if you ask"
"Why would you think that?", Sansa asked returning her gaze to the courtyard. Somewhere in her head, she could feel the heartbeats.
"You mean a lot to him, we have seen. I never saw him smile or laugh with anyone but you. With you, I see a different man. You make him happy."
Tormund's words left Sansa contemplated. She collected and reviewed all the moments Jon spend with her. Tormund seemed indeed correct.
"Perhaps the effect of reborn" she said slowly trying hard not to agree.
"Perhaps"
"Tormund", a voice interrupted them suddenly. The voice send shivers down Sansa's body and emotions erupted within her. She just wanted to get up and get disappeared in no time. At the same time, she desperately wanted cry in front of him.
"Snow, work keeping you busy?" Tormund asked without feeling the need of addressing him as his Grace
"Aye, quite busy", Jon said turning his gaze to Sansa.
"Your Grace", she said.
Jon gave a small nod, before turning to Tormund.
"The feast is on the day after tomorrow, you all are invited. Without you all, I wouldn't have been here. Do come", Jon smiled and patted Tormund.
"We will.", Tormund said grinning widely. "I'll leave you both then"
Before Jon could turn his gaze to her, she got up to leave. Deep down, she wanted to be as close as possible with him, but something stopped her. She wondered how he could ever say that to her at the same time it seemed apparently reasonable. The pain was growing larger every time she sees him.
"Sansa" Jon's voice stopped her steps. She couldn't help but stop, how could she not? The voice had everything she wanted, everything she was wishing these two days.
She could hear his heavy footsteps growing clearer as her heart beat faster. And in some time, he was in front of her. It was when she saw his face had small but deep bruises over it. It was so full of blood that Sansa couldn't help but clasped the hands in her mouth.
"Where did you get this", Sansa asked concerning, referring to the bruises.
"Just.. got hit over the same bruises from the battle", he replied without leaving her eyes.
"You should get it cleaned, it must be very painful", Sansa controlled herself not to run her hands softly through his face. She couldn't show her weakness in front of him, especially not him.
She turned to leave.
"Pain? You talk about pain while you are the one giving me pain this two days" he furiously. But she left nevertheless. He could say anything to stop her from leaving, but she feel like listening. She stopped but was gone without caring to look at him.
Closing the door behind him, Jon furiously kicked his boots open to the corner and sat by the fire.
Dancing flames resembled like the waves of Sansa's auburn hair and the warmth felt like her anger. Did she always this stubborn with her other brothers too or it was just him? Jon didn't know how to restore what was broken. He could never carry on without her, especially when she was like this and there were much important works in Winterfell.
Jon poured himself some and sat back looking at the flames. The maid had left his meal on the table that he didn't even care to look at.
"Jon", the soft knock on the door dragged him back from his thoughts. He knew the voice, Sansa.
It was exactly two days he hadn't heard his name on her mouth. The way, it always felt a lot different from others calling him by his name.
"Come in", Jon opened the door for her.
It was completely dark outside, winds were whistling and snow was falling more than ever before. It was a relief that Sansa had her hood pulled up, saving Jon's anger.
"You haven't cleaned up that yet", she said looking up at his bruises.
Jon remained silent.
"Let me do it", Sansa offered slowly
"No need", Jon wanted to shout at her, wanted to tell her just to forgive him and talk to him again. Like before. But he decided remain cold to her, if she could avoid him even after putting so much effort to make everything alright, he could too.
"Please, Jon" her pleading voice melted his heart into thousand emotions.
He slowly walked back to his chair looking on as Sansa took out a bucket from the corner with a ragged piece of cloth.
She knelt in front of him and began cleaning his bruises and bloods. When her bare hands brushed against his face, he unconsciously tilted his head to her hand to feel more of her soft hands. For a time, he wished he had got more bruises, maybe over the whole body. Then, immediately he shooed away the feeling and carefully looked at her who seemed very much concentrated on cleaning.
Her porcelain cheeks turning into a tinge of red from the heat of the fire. He couldn't tell her hair was more bright or the flames. Her lashes were making random movements as she carefully wet the ragged cloth on the warm water.
Jon couldn't help but slowly advanced his hand forward slightly touching her soft red cheeks. She immediately responded with her vivid blue eyes staring back at him. She suddenly got up placing the piece of cloth back on the bucket and slowly turned to leave
"Hating me back again?" , Jon asked from the back.
"I don't hate you"
"Can you stay?", Jon asked offering her a seat next to his by the fire while he poured himself more ale and sat back.
Sansa sat next to him; Jon took sips of ale looking at the fire while silence prevailed.
"Did anyone tell you yet what happened at the battle?" Jon asked recalling the horrific battle of Winterfell. He didn't know why he was talking these, maybe the ale was making him dizzy or maybe he wanted to spend more time with her.
"No", came the short reply.
"Wasn't a story to tell", he mocked, not knowing who. "He killed our brother, just in front of me and I couldn't do anything. I saw hope in his eyes, faith in me that no matter what I would save him", Jon voice grew sorrowful.
"It wasn't your fault, Jon. You couldn't have done anything."
"You were right, I shouln't have done what he wanted me to do. But I couldn't stand there watching Rickon doing all the effort to get to me", Jon didn t want to recall how the arrow was shot straight through his heart. "For some time, I forgot the battle and kept watching his lifeless body, and then when arrows came targeting me I realized how incredibly I was trapped and I lost hope for my life that I didn't even care to keep the scabbard anymore, I was alone in the wide large field, enemies charging at a full tilt, I was completely alone when it hit me that I risked your life again. But miraculously, our army reached at the proper time."
"Your risked your life too, not only mine's ", Sansa said, her voice small and cold.
"I didn't care about mine until I was under the foots and bodies of dead people, I could barely breathe, barely saved myself from crushing to death. All those times, I just wanted to live and fight and win so that I could come back to you to keep you safe.", Jon said looking at Sansa whose eyes looked worried, he could see a tear rolling down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry I put you through so much...", she said pleadingly.
"Sansa", he didn't intend to make her cry. He sided his ale getting up and knelt before her before taking her face in his palms.
"You are the reason I made an effort to come out of those pile of dead bodies. You mean a lot to me, I could've just died without trying if it wasn't for you, do you hear me?", Jon enhanced his last words.
Sansa nodded with tears.
"Jon, Kings don't kneel", she said looking at him.
"Aye, but this King does", Jon replied wiping her tears with his thumb.
Sansa chuckled between her tears, which instantly put a smile on his lips. He could see her throat made a slight movement as she swallowed. She looked more beautiful than ever, between tears and smiles. He couldn't take his eyes off her, for a moment he thought of kissing her forehead, her eyes that was ocean blue, her cheeks, then as it came lower to through her face his forehead furrowed in emotions so strong that he knew he won't be able to deny it ever, nor accept it.
He longingly looked at her, fearing what he would do if he loses her. There wouldn't be anything left for him at Winterfell. Fearing the strong feelings he was having towards her, fearing she would hate him if she knew.
"Jon", the soft voice in form of his name made him break his gaze.
"I need to leave"
"Aye", Jon said realizing she can't stay forever in his chambers.
"Let me escort you back", Jon said coming very closer to her, carefully pulling her hood over her head. She moved her lashes to look up at him and smiled. Jon tried smiling back at her but after a couple for seconds he found himself taking another step closer and kissing her between her brows. He could feel her lashes closing against his cheeks.
Returning to her chambers, Sansa tried to re-lit fire that was put out by the wind. It was so cold in her chamber that she wished she had fireplace in each corner.
She lit more candles making the room well lighted. Then she took stitching materials with her by the fire, she had to finish making the gown as Jon said the feast was the day after the following day. And she had nothing but old gowns that didn't properly fit her anymore.
These two days she couldn't work on it much with disturbed mind. She almost finished it but, she had only one day in between and it seemed to less for embroidering her dress.
Sansa started concentrating on her dress when her mind shifted to Jon, touching the place between brows, she felt her cheeks become hot and her fingers go numb. She tried returning to her to her stitches, and it was when she realized looking at her embroideries taking shapes like Jon's curls. And it was when she realized something was not as it was as it should have been. She wondered did her Septa Mordane ever teach her this kind of embroideries, which looked very funny to her.
She didn't feel like working anymore, she felt exhausted. Walking back, she stepped in front of a glass window, and slightly let it open. A current of cold wind and tiny pieces of snow scattered on her face sending shivers down her spine. She immediately closed the window, and walked back to her bed, trying to give the thoughts a rest before sleeping.
A/n: thanks everyone fot the favorites and follows and comments. My story inspirations are some videos from YouTube like:
You & I
We bleed the same
Invincible etc
Thanks to all the videos
This chapter is inspired by: Book of a stranger (eposode4 season 6)
Next chapter : The feast. :)
