Another fairly efficient turnaround- sorry these chapters have been on the shorter side, but that's the cost of regular updates! I'm excited to report that the story is turning a corner romance-wise. ;) Hope you like it!
"How did you get away from Lady Alys?" Sansa called tentatively as Jon marched across the Godswood to meet her, now wrapped in his heavy fur cloak.
"I told her I was going to pray." he admitted sheepishly.
Sansa raised her eyebrows. "Anyone who knows you properly would be skeptical of that story."
"Then I suppose Lady Alys doesn't know me well yet." Jon mused, noticing that Sansa's face fell as he spoke. He let his face grow solemn. "I'm sorry for how things ended in the solar earlier. I promise not to make a rash decision, but I don't know what I can do about it all..."
Sansa looked back at him unhappily, then shook her head. "Worry about that later- we've got something important to do." She muttered, turning to stride toward the Weirwood tree such that her cloak fanned out regally behind her.
Jon followed curiously, his snowy footprints overlapping Sansa's smaller ones.
She led him to the base of the tree, where the familiar etched face greeted them from the trunk, producing sombre red tear streaks of sap as it regarded them sadly. Jon reflected once again how strange his current situation was as he vividly recalled having stood before a similar tree as he swore his Night's Watch vows.
Sansa crouched at the tree's roots and began feeling around at ground level; she appeared to be digging through the snow and pressing her hands into the many holes and crevices produced by the tree's ivory roots.
"What are you doing?" Jon asked bewilderedly as he observed her odd behaviour.
"The key to the caverns, Jon." Sansa exclaimed excitedly, the pace of her search increasing."I think I know where to find it."
Jon continued to stare at her dumbfoundedly. "What makes you think it's in the roots of a tree?"
Sansa sighed in exasperation and turned to face him, her bare hands dirty, raw and red with cold. "It's something father used to say- the key to Northern survival lies with the water, the ground, the animals, and the trees." She recited, gesturing to the solidly frozen Godswood pond, the ground on which she sat, the silent forest behind, and the weirwood tree, in turn.
"He said that all the time…" Jon agreed doubtfully, "but that doesn't guarantee it meant anything more than the usual cryptic Stark advice we received all the time as children…it always felt as though father and maester Luwin had secret agendas..."
Sansa stared up at him insistently. "But what if this one truly was a hint! What you said to me earlier about the 'key being sharp' or what not reminded me of father sharpening Ice beneath this tree, and then I thought of his words. It could be he was leading us to the key all along, every time he said it…" Sansa concluded, turning to resume her search of the root system.
Jon crouched at her side. "But why wouldn't he have just told us? Why didn't anyone tell us about the caverns? Maester Luwin was always mentioning the water and the hot springs but no one ever bothered to tell us how to find it." he finished, his face knitting in confusion.
Sansa shrugged. "I suppose neither of us was ever intended to rule Winterfell, and we were both too young in past winters to be bothered with such matters."
Jon shut his mouth and helped Sansa to search the base of the silver tree. Could be she's right...the whole thing is almost crazy enough to be true. Jon thought bewilderedly.
He reached into a particularly debris-laden aperture beneath the centre of the trunk, and exhaled sharply as his hand hit an obstacle. He felt around blindly, trying to determine what he was touching. The object seemed flat-sided and hard, like a box. It was scarcely larger than Jon's palm, and very light to lift. He pulled it gingerly from the depths of the tree and brought it into the light.
Sansa gasped as she realized what he had unearthed. Curiosity and elation lit up her features. She immediately bent in closer for a better look. "I knew it." she whispered eagerly.
The rectangular object was a narrow wooden chest of oak or maple, engraved with nothing but a simple direwolf crest on its front.
With great thrill Jon noticed that tiny box had no lock, and lifted its lid with ease. Inside lay an ancient rusty key, half-obscured by shadow.
"I really hope that this is what we think it is." Jon breathed.
"Only one way to find out." Sansa mused, casting her icy cerulean eyes on Jon.
Jon stood up and offered Sansa his hand. She took it ardently, her motions already hungrier under the excitement of imminent discovery.
Arya had grown excellent at watching. She had the patience of a crouching lion, and the effortless camouflage of a predatory bird. She could wait and watch for hours, entirely satisfied by immobility and her own thoughts, just to see things properly.
That was exactly what she had been doing last night in the bell tower before the wights attacked- attempting to see Winterfell in its entirety, with no distractions, just as she had as a child. She had sat alone on the frigid stone, scanning the castle grounds and the moor beyond, with naught but starlight to feed her eyes. The moon had been hiding, after all.
Only then had Arya begun to feel anchored in her home once more; Winterfell was not the same as she had left it. She needed a broad view to feel familiar, as if distance might disguise the truth. The castle was eerier...more scarred. Just the same as Sansa, Jon, and I. She had reflected. Only time might frighten off the new ghosts and demons which permeate Winterfell's halls.
Time, which was the guilty party in everything anyhow. So much of it had passed- Sansa was no longer a girl lost in fantasies and delusions, but a woman grown with battle scars of her own. And Jon had not remained merely her boyish older brother; rather he had flourished into a king whose attentions no longer belonged solely to Arya.
She felt her siblings had grown visibly different in several aspects...but most notably in their interactions with each other.
Something is up with them- and I'm going to discover what it is. Arya vowed solemnly.
This vow was what brought her to the edges of the Godswood, trailing after an unsuspecting Jon, remaining hidden in shadow. She perched herself behind a copse of trees with a clear view of the weirwood tree and stilled herself, listening and watching keenly.
She heard Sansa and Jon discuss a key, secret-keeping, and the ruling of Winterfell. She watched raptly as Jon drew something out from the core of the weirwood, and craned for a better angle as he opened it. The pair of them were conversing quickly- almost excitedly- in hushed tones. Jon helped Sansa up and the pair strode off briskly, re-entering to the castle.
Arya followed without hesitation, keeping deftly hidden and adeptly silent. Her siblings traversed the corridors hurriedly, glancing over their shoulders with nearly every passing breath.
They couldn't be more paranoid if they tried. Arya noted, rolling her eyes.
Jon and Sansa's path took Arya quickly down to the crypts. She descended the steep stony steps into the darkness. She saw Jon light a lantern ahead, and laboriously avoided its far-reaching light, still managing to trail her quarry unseen.
Her siblings marched purposefully past the statues of Lyanna Stark, Rickard Stark, Brandon Stark, and others. Sansa halted at the end of the long catacomb, her russet hair catching the candlelight splendidly. Jon drew up beside her and the pair paused in front of a very large, very old doorway.
Arya stifled a gasp as Jon passed swiftly into the shadow passageway, followed immediately by Sansa. The pair seemed to be heading intentionally deeper into Winterfell's depths. Arya waited a moment until the lantern's light had faded before sliding forward to glance down into the shadowy stair, and determined that the darkness was too pressing and the stairs much too steep to continue without illumination, even for one skilled in navigating blind. The light from Jon's lantern had already vanished, as if swallowed by the mysterious stairway's gloom.
Arya doubled back, feeling along the walls of the crypt for a lantern or torch. However, it seemed Jon had found the only one for a long while- it was quite a walk before she located another. Once she found her light source- a very dusty old torch- she turned back toward the strange stair, intending wholeheartedly to continue tracing Jon and Sansa's steps.
Sansa saw Jon halt immediately in front of her as he arrived at the iron gate. They had made the long descent into the caverns much more rapidly than before, both extremely eager to test the obscure key Jon had pulled out from under the weirwood.
Sansa noted a gust of warm air on her cheeks from within the caves as she passed the small wooden box to Jon and held the lantern aloft so he might see. The enticing caverns seemed to beckon with warm breath, promising wonder and discovery.
Jon fumbled with the lock a moment, wriggling the key gently in hopes of easing the withered mechanism open, and let out an exalted gasp as the iron bolt clicked, allowing the gate to swing forward.
Painstakingly Jon replaced the archaic key in its container and took the lantern from Sansa before stepping into the cave tunnel.
Sansa trailed after him slowly, awed by the sheer circumstance that had enabled this moment.
No one has passed through this gate in at least fifteen years. She considered wondrously.
Jon held the lantern aloft to light their way and proceeded onward through the tunnel. As they shifted further into the caverns the sound of rushing water echoed increasingly loudly as expected. After many paces the passage began to bend slightly left in a gentle curve before widening gradually, until it opened into a full chamber. The aquatic noises reached an apex here, emitting a constant flow and gurgle that bounced off the walls to produce a soothing symphony of sound.
Sansa stood beside Jon and tried to make out the space in the weak lantern light. Jon noticed that the walls of the chamber were studded with makeshift torches, and he proceeded to light each one, until the cavern was bathed in a rosy candlelit glow.
An underground river steaming with warmth flowed from a hole in one end of the cave to a crevice in the other, streaming by unendingly. Some of the water forked off into a sizeable basin which was emitting enticing wisps of steam. Above the stone walls soared, cathedral-like, at least to the height of the Great Hall.
Openmouthed at Sansa's side, Jon exclaimed quietly. "We've found it."
Sansa smiled and started to stride over to the meandering water, but was quickly sidetracked as she noted something silver gleaming from a half-buried position in the cavern wall. She went closer to steal a better look.
"What's this?" she mused softly, reaching out to place her fingers on the silver protrusion. The rock around it was unstable and in pieces such that she could crumble it away with a few careful swipes.
Jon appeared at her side. "Not another box..." He muttered exasperatedly as Sansa drew the object from the wall, wrenching it free with a lurch.
She held the item in her hands and smiled as she regarded it. Indeed, it is a box. She thought giddily. However, Sansa's heart sank as she observed that this chest- one made purely of silver and etched with many elaborate designs- was firmly locked with a thick dark padlock.
Jon took the lock delicately in his hands. "It looks like Valyrian Steel." He noted with surprise, pointing at the characteristic rippled metal as it gleamed in the flickering firelight. "This journey grows stranger and stranger."
Sansa stared at the box puzzledly. "This one was not exactly hard to find- as if we're meant to have it."
Jon regarded her thoughtfully. "Then we should bring it back with us."
She nodded in agreement. "Though I don't know how we'll open it short of smashing it to pieces." She added, setting the mysterious silver box down by the tunnel mouth beside the tiny wooden one. "Unless this one's key is in father's desk."
Jon smiled and scanned the room absently, his mind somewhere else.
"What is it?" Sansa quipped calmly.
"It's very similar to another place I've been." Jon admitted simply, his eyes glassy with reminiscence.
Sansa watched him for a moment, wondering what he was so caught up on, but decided not to press the matter. She noticed that her hands were caked with dirt, grime, and rock dust, and turned once more toward the water. "Hope this water is as pleasant as it looks." She muttered offhandedly at Jon.
Sansa placed a tentative step on the rock adjacent to the steaming pool and found it slick with moisture. She crouched precariously at the edge of the water and tried to lower her hands to the steaming surface, but found an extra finger-length of air between her own fingertips and the water's surface.
She strained to reach, keeling slowly forward, eventually lifting a foot to place on a lower stone. However, Sansa's heart jumped into her mouth as her step slid right off the new foothold, sending her careening forward toward the water.
With a splash she tumbled into the pool, emitting a shrill shriek for an instant before her head plunged below the water's surface.
She threw her arms forward, terrified of hitting the rocky bottom, but found only water. The liquid was pleasantly warm like a bath, but the temperature did nothing to calm Sansa's panic. She tried in vain to figure out which direction was up, but all she saw was darkness, penetrated occasionally by shafts of orange firelight from above, whichever way that was.
I can't drown! Not down here...she told herself firmly. She thrashed and kicked helplessly but felt no closer to the surface.
Only as spots began to dance in front of Sansa's eyes did she feel a pair of strong arms around her midsection, followed instantly by emergence from the water.
She threw her head back with a gasp, sucking in air greedily as she tried to steady her wildly beating heart.
After a few breaths her eyes refocused on Jon, who was regarding her anxiously a foot away. He appeared not to be moving in the water, as though standing. Cautiously Sansa stopped kicking and allowed her legs sink; she was surprised when they found a smooth stone bottom and she was able to stand, the water only coming up to shoulder level.
Sansa returned her gaze to Jon, her chest still heaving in the aftermath of severe shock. She realized then that he had somehow shed his shirt, and was standing in the water bare-chested, his torso expanding and contracting with heavy breaths. His curled raven hair was wet and dripping as it shone in the firelight.
"Are you alright?" Jon asked gently, his face etched in concern.
Sansa nodded, unable to regain proper breath under the influence of his exposed flesh.
"Not as deep as it seems." He added with a small smile, wading a step closer to Sansa such that they were less than a foot apart. "The pool, that is."
They met each other's eyes fervently, dark locked on blue.
Jon took Sansa's neck very gently, pulling her close to him and pressed his lips to hers. She sighed into him and kissed him back, her hands creeping up his spine to tangle in his silken hair.
Never let this moment end. Sansa pleaded internally as she embraced him, much more deeply, urgently, and meaningfully than the first time. She relished the feel of his toned muscles under her fingers, the way he exhaled responsively as she kissed him with increased vigor.
"When I suggested that the two of you should rule Winterfell together, this was not what I meant." A deadpan voice called from the other side of the cavern.
Jon and Sansa lurched suddenly apart, eyes jumping frantically to the intruder. Sansa observed Arya, sitting on the silver box by the entrance to the chamber.
"How long have you been here?" Sansa stammered, openmouthed.
"Long enough."
Jon glanced from Sansa to Arya, apparently unable to speak.
Sansa's initial shock morphed into outrage. "I cannot believe you followed us!"
Arya raised an eyebrow. "Are you really that surprised? I've known there's something going on with the pair of you for a while now- it was only a matter of time until I figured out what." she mused. "No one keeps secrets from me in this castle."
"You can't tell anyone." Jon stated quietly. "It would be disastrous…"
Arya stood up and crossed her arms. "This is already disastrous...you're both fools if you think no one will ever find out." She shouted, crossing her arms. "You're just as bad as the Lannisters…"
Sansa glared back at her with affront. "...We can't help who we love." She declared quickly, borrowing Eva's words. "Besides, we're only half-siblings…"
"Listen to yourself!" Arya cried. "This is absolutely mad! If you want to keep going around kissing each other and sleeping together then fine." she shouted in exasperation. "I can't very well stop you, but you might want to think properly about what you're doing."
"Since when do you care about what's proper?" Sansa countered angrily.
"Since I found out my brother and sister are disgracing the gods and men"
Sansa stared at her bewilderedly. "You don't care about the gods either!"
Arya's eyes bore into her sister's, quite affronted. "I care about the only god that matters. Death." She declared profoundly. "And he's coming for both of you if people find out about this. Anyways isn't Jon supposed to be getting married?"
"That's not decided yet." Jon grumbled stoutly.
Arya glared at him. "The best thing would be for the pair of you to each marry someone else and put this all to rest."
"It isn't that easy." Sansa suggested wistfully. "If you knew anything about love you would understand that."
Arya stared back at her coldly. "I'm just trying to help. Someone needs to pull you two back to reality since mother and father cannot."
The trio stood in silence for a moment, Sansa and Jon still standing in the cavern pool.
"If you've nothing else to say, perhaps one of you would care to explain all this at least?" Arya added, gesturing at the surrounding cavern.
"Fine." Sansa muttered. "Just let us get out of this basin first."