Sansa wakes the third night since Jon's arrival from a strange dream.
She blinks, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she tries to recall every moment- first a wolf's lonely howl, the swirl of white winter snow... She yawns, shaking her thoughts clear of the dream as they turn to Jon instead. Though it's quite late and she knows she'd been in trouble for getting out of bed, Sansa can't stop herself. She climbs from her bed and tiptoes across the room and out of the door. Jon's room is just down the hall from her own and she makes her way quietly through the darkness until she reaches his door. Somehow, she knows he's awake inside.
Pushing open the door, she closes it quietly behind her; Jon is sitting up when she turns around to face her, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight that spills through his parted curtains. "Can't you sleep?" She asks in a whisper, coming towards his bed, noticing his blankets were rumpled like he has been tossing and turning all night long.
Jon shakes his head. It's true, he's laid awake for so many hours now he's lost track. He cannot recall the last time he slept in a bed like this, perhaps never. It surprises him how little and yet how much he misses the life he'd grown to know and accept.
"Old Nan always tells me a story when I cannot sleep," Sansa says into the darkness, her own eyes catching the moonlight as she smiles. "Shall I tell you one?" It takes only a moment for Jon to nod and to his surprise, she climbs up into the bed beside him, settling happily beneath the blanket. "What shall I tell?" She drums her fingers atop legs as she thinks, humming softly to herself and Jon wonders if she even realizes she's doing it. "I know!" She finally cries, though she claps a hand to her mouth in her surprise at what she's just done. But they sit in silence a few long moments, both dreading the punishment that would come at being caught up so late. However after a minute, both sigh in relief, apparently she had not been heard. "I will tell you about Aemon the Dragonknight!" It's Jon's turn to gasp and Sansa looks at him with surprise. "You know his story?"
"It is my favorite," Jon says bashfully, looking down at his hands tangled together on his lap. "My mother..." He flinches, thinking of her hurt, but knowing he was forgetting her face hurt even more. "My mother used to tell me the story of Aemon." He feels Sansa shift and suddenly her hand is laying over top his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I can tell another one," she may be small, but Sansa understands that Jon is sad thinking about Aemon and the stories his mother used to tell him. She also understands that his mother has died and that was why he was alone at the river, or so her father had explained to her.
"No... I would like to hear such a story." He says after a moment of silence. Jon turns to look her in the eye and he smiles. "I've not heard it in so long... I've almost forgotten it. Please, tell it to me." And so they both settle back against the pillow they share, Sansa's soft words weaving him a picture of the valiant Dragonknight Aemon Targaryen, the strongest knight to have ever lived. Jon lays beside her listening, well aware her hand is still clasped with his. Her story is the one about Aemon and Baelor in the snake pit. Her words are so descriptive that Jon swears he can hear the hissing of the snakes as she tells the tale.
It's as she's halfway through the story that she's beginning to yawn; Jon too can feel his eyelids becoming droopy as he fights to stay awake, if only to hear a few more words of her story. Finally, she comes to the conclusion of Aemon carrying Baelor away to safety. Jon knows she's asleep a long moment before he feels it claim him. He smiles as he realizes she's slipped down on the pillow just enough that her head rests against his shoulder. I haven't forgotten... He thinks as he closes his eyes. I remember, mother... I remember.
And then... He sleeps.
