Chapter 37 – Sansa – Knight
Sansa looked around her room and waited patiently for her little guest this night. Everything was prepared: there were toys on the bear fur in front of the fireplace and a small crib next to her bed. She smiled at herself. This night she could try to be a mother and she was looking forward to it. She had been wondering for a while if she would be a good mother – a great aunt, definitely, but a mother? – so she saw this night as a test, and to her advantage the test person already liked her.
There was a knock on the door and Sansa opened it quickly. Gilly smiled at her, Little Sam on her arm, and Talla waved from behind, apparently more excited at the coming wedding than the wife-to-be.
Sansa greeted them warmly and bid them inside. Little Sam was already walking towards the toys after his mother had put him on the ground, his new wooden wolf that Ser Davos had given him in his small hands.
"Thank you so much for watching him tonight," Gilly told her. "This makes things easier, I guess."
"No problem," Sansa replied, smiling. "I'm looking forward to it." Since Sam was practically family because of his friendship to Jon and maybe also Bran, Sansa had tried to spend some time with him, as well as Gilly and the boy, and had soon found out what heart-warming people they were. And Little Sam had a strange fascination with her red hair…
"So, he already ate," Gilly started to list important things to be remembered. "Here, I have his favourite blanket. If he has trouble falling asleep, you should read to him, he likes it. I've also packed his favourite book. And if it's too much, if he starts crying or doesn't let you sleep, you come straight to us and we'll take him again, alright?"
Although Gilly looked at her with severe eyes, Sansa laughed. "I will not disturb you on your wedding night." Despite the fact that her two wedding nights were both disastrous – one unconsummated and one violently – she knew that normally it was supposed to be wonderful if the two people loved each other as Sam and Gilly obviously did. "It'll be fine, I promise. We're getting along, aren't we, Little Sam?" Sansa spoke a bit louder and the boy grinned at her happily.
"Sansy," he smiled and showed her a wooden horse. "Let's play."
"Almost there," she promised him and turned back to Gilly. "You see?"
"They're alright," Talla joined in and took Gilly's arm. "Come on, you'll need to get into your dress and I want to make your hair. We don't want to keep my brother waiting, do we?"
Gilly still didn't seem ready to go, so Sansa and Talla shoved her gently to the door.
"Everything's going to be alright," Sansa promised again and finally Gilly nodded and left the room. "Have a nice wedding," she called after them, before closing the door.
"So, Little Sam, now it's just you and me." With a mixture of joy but also anticipation of how well she would deal with the child, she went to him, sat down next to him on the fur and they started to play. Only a few minutes later it was plain to see how well they got along.
After a while, there was another knock on the door.
Frowning, Sansa stood up and went to the door. Gilly should already be at the Godswood for the wedding so who would come to visit her this late? It was already past dinner time, she quickly realised. Well, she would ask a maid to get some bread later out of the kitchen.
To her great surprise, there was none other than Theon on the other side of the door. His posture was better than the last time he was in Winterfell but still a bit crouched. And he still had problems with looking people in the eyes, especially her.
"You weren't at dinner," he muttered. "So, I've brought you something to eat." It was only then that Sansa noticed the small tray in his hands with soup, bread, and peas.
"Thank you," Sansa responded, her voice full of emotions for this kind gesture. She stepped aside. "Please, come in."
He nodded and went inside, where he put the tray on the table. Suddenly his gaze stopped at the small boy playing in front of the chimney. "I see, you have a guest already," he remarked in an attempt of normal chatter and she was grateful for it. Communicating with him or just interacting with him was sometimes quite difficult.
"Yes, this is Little Sam, the son of Sam and Gilly. They are currently marrying," she smiled at him and tried to force her blush to not enter her cheeks, but it was probably in vain. Further, she had just realised that she was almost alone with Theon in her room…
The small boy looked up at them. "What's 'marrying'?" he wanted to know.
Sansa smiled at him and went back to kneel next to him. "You marry someone you love," she tried to explain. "A person you want to share your whole life with." Automatically her gaze grazed Theon who stood a bit forlorn in the middle of the room. She patted the spot of the fur next to her. "Come," she told him gently. "Play with us."
Theon looked at her nervously. "I don't think I should." His gaze fell between the door and her. "I better go."
"No, please stay," she quickly responded and raised her hand in his direction at once. "Come here."
Slowly he went to her, still a small hump in his walk, and took her hand.
She gently pushed him down until he kneeled on the fur.
"You're the knight," Little Sam determined and gave Theon a small figure with a lance in his hands, also a gift from Ser Davos.
Sansa was grateful for the boy's open heart, it made things easier with Theon. And a part of her desperately wanted to know if he was good with children…
"And you're the princess, of course." Little Sam gave her the figure of a beautiful girl in a long red dress. "Because you're beautiful." In the tone of the boy, it was quite obvious.
Sansa better wanted to be someone else. The idea of being a princess remembered her too much of her childish ambitions and her time in King's Landing… But, of course, she didn't complain with the small boy. This was only a game and she was the only girl in the room.
"Yes, she is," Theon whispered almost inaudible but it still caught Sansa's ears.
She looked at him in shock, but he ignored it.
"And I'm the dragon!" Little Sam announced and already started to kidnap the princess. They were quite engrossed in the epic story, that afterwards the small boy yawned openly and Sansa brought him to bed.
"Where's Mama?" he suddenly wanted to know and looked around. This was probably the first time he had to spend the night without her.
"She's with Sam," Sansa assured him calmly and the boy nodded, seemingly relieved by this information. "Shall I read to you?" she offered and the boy nodded eagerly.
While she read a tale about a wolf in the woods, Little Sam fell asleep. Sansa tucked him closer under the blanket and when she turned around, she saw the same blissful smile on Theon's face that she felt herself. He was still sitting on the fur, so she joined him again.
"That was easier than I thought," Sansa admitted in a hushed tone in order not to wake the boy.
"You're good with children," Theon replied in the same careful whisper.
For a while, they stared silently into the flames of the chimney until he sadly stated: "I can understand why you'd rather watch the boy, then be with his parents."
Sansa immediately thought of her own wedding to Ramsay, in the Godswood, in the snow, and no, she definitely didn't want to be there. He probably had the same dark thoughts, for his face had grown bitter. They both had been through so much. She had started to care for him after their escape from Winterfell, but it wasn't until recently when after a few months of departure, she had realised how much she had missed him, needed him by her side, and even loved him… She knew she had to be brave in this matter because he never would, so she cleared her throat. "Theon," she spoke, and her tone made it clear how important her next sentences would be.
He looked at her expectantly and waited in attentive silence.
"There is something I want to tell you, or maybe I even have to, but I also want to." She took a calming breath before taking his hand into hers, trying to ignore his broken fingers.
He looked hastily between her hand and her eyes, not sure what was happening, more like a frightened doe than an Ironborn, and Sansa knew she had to be very careful.
"When we were children," she began to tell her little story and started chronologically, "I had a little crush on you." She smiled at him, blushing. This was something she had never told anyone before, but he needed to know.
He looked at her shocked, but she continued regardless.
"You were always quite handsome and very good with the bow. So one time, when I was 8, I guess, I stitched a Direwolf for you. I proudly presented you the piece of cloth, a handkerchief I believe, and all I wanted was your praise." Here her smile faltered, and her eyes turned sad. "But you looked at it for one moment and then you started to laugh. You said it didn't look anything like a wolf but more like a pile of shit."
Theon's cheeks reddened in shame. "I remember," he whispered while absent-mindedly stroking her hands with his thumb. "I was too proud to be a Greyjoy that I didn't want to accept the Stark sigil…"
Sansa shook her head at this. "It was your arrogance that I began to hate, and my crush dissolved into nothing."
He tried to loosen his hand from hers, but she held onto it.
"But things have changed," she told him firmly. "We have changed. And your arrogance and my snobbery have vanished. We both have received such an amount of violence and torture, you more than me, that it almost broke us completely. But we fought against it, together. We've both grown stronger through our experiences and aren't the stupid children anymore we once were. Theon, look at me, please."
He slowly met her gaze and what he saw apparently surprised him.
She stared at him with all her warmth and care she felt for him. "Theon," she quietly admitted, "I love you. And I just hope that you might feel the same for me." Nervously, she gulped but didn't avert her eyes. She needed to know if there was at least a chance for them.
Theon blinked at her in shock, then his eyes filled with tears. "Sansa," he stated, and she could already hear the love in his voice. "I do, I love you, but I can't," he stocked, not knowing how to articulate his fears that were now obvious on his face.
She didn't care for his objections, in her mind, he could have nothing to say against it if he truly loved her. "Theon," she repeated. She tried to say his name as often as possible to remind him of who he was. Stroking over his cheek and hair, she smiled at him. "Theon, there is nothing in the world that could take away our being together."
He still didn't look happy. "But Jon won't allow it."
She scoffed. "Jon can't decide whom I want to be with. I've been married twice for the sake of the House, this time I'm making my own choice. And I choose you. Because only we two can understand the pain of the other."
"But… you can't have… children with me." He gazed ashamed into his lap. "I'm not a real… man anymore," he whispered.
Sansa already knew about this part, Ramsay had gloated about it more than once in her presence. She gently took Theon's head between her hands and raised it, so he had to look her in the eyes. "It doesn't matter," she told him urgently. He needed to understand that she loved him despite everything that was wrong with him – because there was a lot that was wrong with her as well…
"But what about Winterfell? There must always be a Stark at Winterfell," he quoted her father's saying.
"Yes, you're right. There must always be a Stark at Winterfell. But I'm not the only of Ned Stark's children anymore," she smiled slightly. "There are Bran and Arya and even Jon. Their children can inherit Winterfell and I will be happy for them."
"But you love children," Theon looked at the sleeping Little Sam. "It was obvious this evening."
Sansa sighed, for Theon was right, but only partly. "Yes, I love children. I will be a wonderful aunt. But I can't be a real mother, because after what Ramsay did to me, I don't want… any man ever again… down there…" She tried to hold back her tears at the memory of her horrible copulation. "And besides, we can be foster parents. So, you see," she offered him a warm smile, "for me it is perfect that you aren't… a real man anymore. Although in my eyes you'll always be a real man because I know you will protect me." It was difficult for her to speak so freely of these things since Septa Mordane had taught her differently, but she had to have courage if she wanted this relationship to succeed.
He suddenly frantically shook his head while freeing his hands from hers. "You can't be sure of that. I don't know if I can protect you. I might… snap again." And he told her how he had fled the battle when Euron had taken his sister into captivity. "I wasn't able to save my sister then, and she is my sister! How can I be able to save you when something terrible happens?"
It hurt her to hear his desperation, so she took him in his arms and comforted him by stroking his back. "I have faith in you, Theon Greyjoy. When the time comes, you will have the strength to save everyone you love. I know that you will always protect me."
"But," he mumbled against her neck.
"No buts," she told him firmly. "As I said before, there is nothing in the world that could take away our being together." Except for death, she suddenly thought but didn't say it. Emotionally she continued: "I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. For this winter and all the winters to come."
It seemed that finally he believed her and had nothing to retort against it anymore, for he started to cry, and his tears wetted her neck. But she didn't care – her own tears fell down into his hair.
They embraced each other for quite some time and although they were crying, they were finally in a long time happy.