Chapter 36: Night With Wolves

"Sorry I'm late," Jon said as he took his seat at the center of the high table with Sansa, the Starks and Davos to his right and Daenerys and her advisers on his left.

Sansa smiled as she brushed her thumb against a spot at the base of his neck to remove a black smudge. For a moment she'd regretted it, feeling like her mother doting on Bran and Rickon, but Jon's thankful smile reminded her he hadn't dealt with that. If anything he might have felt a bit envious when he saw it when they were younger. She let her thumb brush his jaw affectionately. Thinking back she would realize that was when she'd decided.

Even as he spoke with Daenerys, Sansa found herself smiling when she glanced his way. When one of the maids came around to refill their glasses, she pulled the girl aside and whispered in her ear. When the girl shook her head, Sansa gave her an order and the girl nodded before rushing off.

She noticed early on that Melisandre had finished her meal and went to sit with the Brotherhood, freed from their cells and sat at one of the lower tables on her suggestion. Jon had been amused to find the Hound sat in their cells, but deferred to Sansa's trust of him and released the men once they vowed to aid them in the war against the Night King.

Sansa noticed Thoros kept looking to Jon as if he expected him to burst into flame and reveal he was the Lord of Light himself. Instead Jon smiled and nodded at one of Tyrion's comments and Thoros returned to his conversation with Melisandre.

After the maid returned and gave her a nod Sansa noticed Jon's plate was empty and his mug was nearly drained. Placing a hand on his forearm to draw his attention, she leaned closer to ask quietly, "Do you have plans with Daenerys tonight?"

He looked surprised and wary of how he should answer. "Not yet," he decided was safest.

"Come to my solar," she said rising from her seat.

Jon watched her move to Daenerys' side, leaning close to whisper to her. Daenerys seemed surprised until she heard Sansa say, "Forgive me, Daenerys, but Jon and I won't be meeting in his solar tonight."

Daenerys turned to meet Sansa's azure eyes and her confusion shifted to amusement. A knowing, teasing smile played on her lips as she nodded and whispered in return, "Good luck."

Sansa's cheeked reddened as she nodded and departed the hall for her room.

It wasn't very long before the door opened and Jon found Sansa stood beside a large bronze tub full of steaming water. She'd tied her hair back, biting her bottom lip as she looked to Jon in the doorway.

"I thought you could use a bath after a day in the forge."

Jon looked from her to the bath about a dozen times in a few seconds before closing the door. Still wary, he put on a smile. "Hopefully this isn't some kind of way to tell me I should have had one before supper. I washed what I could."

Sansa quickly shook her head. "No! You-It's fine. It was fine."

Jon nodded, walking over and looking from the water to her. "Are you…"

Sansa took a breath and nodded. "I'll help you."

His eyes met hers and seeing she was sure he gave a nod while removing his cloak. He turned away, setting his cloak on a chair near her hearth, smiling when he noticed a small pile of his folded clothes laying on the table, stolen from one of his chests so he wouldn't need to change into the same dirty clothes.

At first she'd averted her eyes, as if she hadn't seen him nude multiple times. With a shake of her head she turned and watched him unlace his breeches, flashing her a sheepish smile as he kicked them off slightly before putting them on the chair. When he turned to her she offered a small smile, glancing at the large scar at the center of his chest while he stepped into the tub.

At first she was surprised the water didn't turn black from all the soot, but then remembered the black rag in his room. He'd clearly stopped their to wipe himself clean as best he could before missing supper entirely.

"Did you rush for me?" Sansa asked watching him sink into the water.

"Rush?"

"To supper," she said.

His answer came when he silently turned to look at the fireplace. Sansa smiled, taking a stool and placing it next to the bath to sit beside him. "I would have understood. It's not like last time. I know you're not avoiding me."

"I know," he sighed, sinking into the water. "Thank you. I needed this."

"I could imagine," she said reaching for the cloth she'd set aside, dipping it into the water.

"It's one thing to wield a sword but forging them is a different beast. I feared I was going to push even Gendry's kindness to it's edge."

"I doubt that," Sansa said rubbing the wet cloth along Jon's shoulder. He looked to her hand before arching his brow. She ignored him, asking, "Why don't you let anyone else help?"

"Because I need to do this," he said looking away from her.

Sansa glanced at him, surprised. They stayed quiet as she picked up the stool and moved behind him. She could reach more of his torso this way, and it meant he could avoid looking at her as they spoke. Hopefully that would loosen his lips.

She was rubbing the cloth along his right arm when she asked, "Is it because you want to be the one to make it?"

Jon laughed softly. "Even if I wanted to I'm not really. I'm barely helping."

Sansa nodded, bringing her hand back up his arm to his shoulder. "Is it going to replace Longclaw?"

Jon tensed slightly. "No, nothing could."

"I know you said you'd offer it back to Jorah, but-"

"He turned it down," Jon cut her off. Sansa looked at the back of his head, using one hand to lift his hair and clean behind his neck. "I offered it to him but he gave it back."

Sansa smiled. "Are you making a new one for him?"

Jon was quiet for a moment before sighing. "I can't leave House Mormont without a sword. Jeor never needed to trust me like he did, but he gave me his sword, made me his steward. The least I could do is make sure his house has a sword to defend them."

She wanted to press on, to talk about who he was planning on giving swords. He hadn't told anyone his plans and had been quick to change the subject whenever it was mentioned. However, she wanted to enjoy her time with him more.

"Close your eyes," she told him before taking a cup and soaking his hair. The water darkened as it passed through his curls, clearly having skipped his hair when he was cleaning earlier.

Even once she'd finished, Jon kept his eyes closed, leaning his head back against her, looking perfectly content to stay like that. They did, for a time, but Sansa had other things in mind. Things that became clear to Jon when she'd moved from gently rubbing his chest to his stomach.

She'd intended to sneak her hand down and take hold as she had many times before, but found herself hesitating. Instead she looked to him as he opened his eyes and met hers. The crackle of the fire and their breathing the only noise in the room before the slosh of water as he turned to meet her leaning in to kiss him.

Water made it past the rim, soaking the front of her as she nearly let him drag her into the tub, but that would make it even harder to get out of her gown. Instead she pressed her hands against the side and pulled herself away, reaching back to undo the last of the laces holding it in place. She'd had a maid help her with the harder to reach ones earlier.

Even after all they'd done Sansa still bit the inside of her lip as she let the dress fall and stripped away her clothes until she was as bare as him. He seemed to sit up, as if making room for her to join him, but arched his brow when she turned and walked to the bed, taking a breath as she sat and looked at him.

They held each other's gaze for a moment, Sansa watching his face shift from confusion to surprise, amusement and then darkened as he took a breath. He gripped the side of the tub as if he would break it while standing, carefully stepping out and quickly drying what he could.

Her stomach knotted watching the shadows cast by the hearth dance across his body, sitting up with her hands digging into the mattress as he stepped between her legs. Jon's damp hand sent a chill down her spine when it brushed her cheek while he leaned down to kiss her. She'd sat up to meet him, though quickly sank back as the short kiss was followed by one to her neck, with each one after moving lower.

"Jon," she said clutching his shoulder, making him look up as he started to kneel before her.

"I know," he told her with a smile, reaching up to brush his fingers through her hair. "I want to make sure you're ready." A small laugh escaped him as he looked almost sympathetic. "I know it's supposed to hurt a bit, but I want to make it as little as possible. This should help, and I'll be as gentle as you need."

He pulled her head down to meet his for a quick kiss before he released her and placed a kiss on her stomach. Sansa sighed, knowing he would be. Knowing he'd take care of her as he had ever since they first saw each other and he ran off to get her something warm to eat. He'd do all he could to make her enjoy this, as if she needed anything but him.