When she raised her hand to knock on his chamber door, she hesitated.
She knew there weren't many ways that she could save Jon, that she could protect him, but perhaps this way... Perhaps this way she could. And Sansa would be lying if she said she didn't want this too. That thought alone was enough to give her the courage to knock, to stand there while she waited for him to open the door. She supposed it was late, he might not even hear her knocking if he slept already.
Knock, knock.
Jon hadn't expected to hear a knock on the door so late into the night. He couldn't sleep and he supposed it would be another sleepless night for him, kept awake by the endless fight he fought against the world. Every moment, he felt burdened by his role as Daenerys' lover- if you could even call him that. Now that he knew the truth of his parentage, he couldn't bring himself to lay with her again, he couldn't even kiss her without feeling sick. He had never wanted to be with her in the beginning, but he had forced himself to placate her, hoping it would help her find the right path, especially when it came to the North. He had hoped that by siding with her and making her feel like he was hers, she would protect the family he loved so dearly. But he had been wrong. So very, very wrong.
And so when someone knocks on his door so late at night, he can't help but to feel a tremor of fear- of frustration- rush through him. Daenerys, he thought as he rose from where he sat before the fire, it must be her. But when he opened the door, it was not the silver-haired Targaryen queen he saw. "Sansa..." His stomach turned, but not with apprehension, rather relief, and he felt warmth rush through his entire being. How could it be that she undid him with even just a single look?
Sansa watched as relief spread across his features, softening his eyes and his mouth as he stepped aside to let her in. He closed the door behind her and they came to stand at the center of the room, warm and bright by the still roaring fire. "I'd apologize for waking you, but it looks like you've not touched your bed in days." It's still tightly made, Agatha's work, the old crone who had always tut tutted at her and Jon's closeness. She took only a moment to wonder if his bed remained tidy because he'd been sleeping in her chambers. But she pushed such thoughts away as she focused on his face, tired and drawn, as if he'd not had a good night's rest in days. Only two days before he had fought a battle against the dead themselves and yet he still did not sleep. "I am sorry for disturbing you, though, I only wanted to check on you."
Jon can't take his eyes off of her; she's so beautiful there in the firelight, her red hair unbound from it's usual braids, a stark contrast to her black gown. "You never disturb me," he took a step closer to her, his heart warming when she smiled upon him, a soft blush coloring her cheeks. "But you should be sleeping," he admonished, knowing she had been working tirelessly to provide for all of the North, including stitching up the injured soldiers and even prepping Theon for his burial. She had proven herself yet again to be the true Lady of Winterfell, the only one deserving of the title queen.
"I couldn't," she replied, taking a step towards him, closing the gap between them. Her heart was pounding so hard within her chest that she was certain Jon could have heard it beat. She wished she'd had the thought of drinking wine, it would have calmed her nerves. "Jon... I..." She found that there were no words she could say and so she decided that there was no need. This would go one of two ways and there was no way of knowing until she tried.
And so she kissed him.
She kissed him and it only took a single moment for him to yield. Sansa felt his arms come around her as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing hers as he pulled her closer, their bodies pressed together as if they were matching puzzle pieces. A moment later, Jon drew back from her, looking into her eyes as if to ask her is this really alright? Their gazes never wavered, not for several long moments, and Sansa could only give a single nod. It was then that Jon was kissing her, with such ferver that he swept her off her feet. She could feel his hands tracing the outline of her body, one snaking around to press into the small of her back, the other making its way up and into her long red hair. "Sansa," he gasped when he drew back again, this time merely to catch his breath, and his other hand slid into place against her cheek, leaving her back cold without his touch.
They had been teetering on this moment for far too long. He could recall every sinful, lust driven thought he'd had of her, never acting upon it for obvious reasons. But then Sam had told him the truth of who his parents had been and it had changed everything. If only he'd known before leaving for Dragonstone. Now, he was tangled up with the damned mother of dragons and even one misstep could lead to the destruction of everything he loved. And damn near everything was there in his arms right then. "Sansa, we don't..." He was thinking of her and her tainted past- this couldn't be easy for her.
"Stop talking." She said with a shake of her head, leaning in to capture his mouth with his. "For just one night... Don't think... Don't talk... Just be with me." Jon stared at her for just a moment longer before he gave a nod, wondering how a moment like this could make so much sense. This time their kiss was deeper, stronger, a kiss that stole the breath from her lungs and the strength from her knees. But he was there to keep her upright, his hands securely on either side of her hips as his tongue met hers once again.
It could have been several minutes or lifetimes before Jon could take no more and so he drew her towards his bed, seating himself down on the edge with her between his knees. "Turn around," he rasped, watching as she did as he bid, pulling her hair over a shoulder and looking at him over said shoulder in the most seductive of ways. Did she even know what she did to him? Jon took the next few moments to slowly unlace the back of her gown, giving her ample opportunity to stop him if she wished. But she made no movement until he had finished and her gown had fallen to the floor at her feet. It was only then that she turned, clad only in her shift, that she turned around to face him. With her own hands, she helped him from his shirt and it joined her gown on the floor. She then pulled her shift over her head and tossed it aside, leaving her to stand there naked before him. Jon sucked in a breath, his hand reaching out to clasp her breast, kneading her petal soft skin with a gentle touch. It was her turn to catch her breath, head tilted back as his hand moved to her other breast, fingertips grazng her skin, leaving fire in their wake.
Her hands were moving then, reaching for the laces of his breeches which came undone beneath her nimble fingers and only then was he exposed to her. Sansa ran her hand along the length of him, the feel of him shuddering beneath her touch like nothing she had ever felt before. She raised her gaze to meet his and it was almost like he could read her mind, for he pushed himself further back onto the bed, giving her the space to straddle his pelvis, her body just barely touching his. His mouth clamped down over hers as she slid him into her, a rush of pleasure running its course through her body. Jon was moving in time with her, his hands on her hips as he thrust into her, his head throw back as her name left his lips in the sound of a moan.
Over and over again he met her every movement until he was certain he could take it no more. And so it was then that he moved a hand to her back and turned them both over so he leaned over her, his mouth on hers as she arched her back against him. "Jon!" Her gasping of his name was unlike anything he'd ever heard before. He could feel her nails clawing their way down his back as she moaned her pleasure, every other breath coming in a gasp as Jon hit the perfect spot. It wasn't much longer before he knew it was over and he spilled into her with a long groan, falling into place on the bed beside her.
They lay side by side a while longer, talking softly as the fire in the hearth became smaller and smaller, until it was just burning embers. "I should go..." She said softly, though she was hesitant to unwrap herself from his warm embrace. Jon hugged her closer, burying his face into her sweet smelling hair.
"Stay," he encouraged, his breath warm against the shell of her ear. "Just stay with me." He knew it was improper, but he suddenly could not imagine his bed without her in it. And so she smiled in the darkness and nodded, snuggling in closer to his warm, naked frame. There she would stay awake long after he'd finally drifted off, happy just to know he finally slept soundly. Happy knowing she had brought him peace of mind, if only for a night. In the morning he would wake and go to war yet again, but she could only hope it would be for the last time.
Closing her eyes, she drifted off to sleep there in his arms, happier than she had been since she'd left home the very first time.