To the guest that wrote an anguished response; Ygritte wasn't Jon's first love, never has been his 'love', and Sansa is definitely not the consolation prize, she was always the guilty desire/potential endgame of Jon (my theory), he didn't set out from childhood to woo and have her, so his unfortunate coerced encounter with Ygritte isn't him cheating on Sansa. (Am I being trolled? By having Jon being called a whore and a cheat.) SPOILERS. Remember when Sam commented on a fruitful visit at 14? That happened to coincide with a greenhouse incident.
Chapter 37: Signals
She shouldn't have mentally romanticized gifts. But she remembered the notion wasn't strictly hers, Jon had said in the orchard 'spending money on a woman was romantic.' She stroked the wood of the bow with her thumb, then stared at the target in front of her, Meera had come to remove all of the arrows to be redistributed. Were the stakes that high? She was not some fimmicky lady, she could accept a gift, privately, as her 'gift' to him was private.
Jon had an encouraging smile, that he without doubt used on the wildlings, to coax them out of hiding...or wherever they were? She raised her bow and new arrow. At least he wouldn't think she feigned missing to avoid a present. She did multiple blinks, while lining up the shot. You can't screw this up, it doesn't matter either way. She aimed for the indentation. Gods, wouldn't it be funny if she hit the bull's-eye instead? She wasn't the type to pull off that, and neither would she start doing it frequently, not even to impress people, because she just wasn't interested in it. It would look good to everybody else, but it would be a miss. Get on with it, you're stalling. She was surprised he hadn't heckled her, but he was an absolute gentleman behind her. Don't think about things like that. She fired, and it hit the indentation and shuddered with the force, she then beamed while doing a neat ballet spin. "My gods!" She uttered loud enough to summon Meera.
"Oh sooo close, but well done." She removed the arrow and dropped it back into the quiver to see to the other rounds. Of course Lady Reed would have a half-hearted congratulations. She felt smug, it however faltered. Meera's your new friend, what is wrong with you?
Jon approached, quietly clapping, he looked different. "So if you put your mind to it, you could have hit dead centre. I'm impressed."
He'd taken off his doublet, so she could see his coarse blue undershirt. It's an undershirt, it's supposed to be under. "It had crossed my mind, but the objective was to hit that thrice." She jabbed in the direction of the board, returning to him with a curious eye. "Anyway...Were you warm?"
And he smiled with furrowed brows, his body rocked from one foot to the other to be nearer, a swagger of sorts. "Hmm." Her whole body turned towards his as he rolled his sleeves up and... took the bow from her, it was almost like she was receiving him. Well she received something. By that, she meant his leather he had just handed her for safe keeping. "My lady has a good eye." She wasn't going to dispute that. And when he moved into her space, quite literally, since she hadn't moved, she cleared her throat and stepped to one side. The warmth that had resided from his body, petered away in the breeze, but trace amounts remained smouldering within the doublet she clutched. This is too much. Jon retrieved an arrow, she noted his breeches tighten upon stooping...No, that is too much. "I hope my eye is as good as yours."
Gods, can he seriously see her?! She averted. "I'm sure...you'll do fine." When he got into an archery position, she realised she had been stooping all this time in front of him, she did not bend her knees like a good woman should. "Good luck." Her voice had failed her. Did she have a good ass?..For Gods sake, why would you care? She did an audible wince, and her chaperone stalled, and swivelled with the bow safely lowered.
"Are you trying to distract me, my lady?" It wasn't in Arya's type of anguished annoyed tone, so she believed he was bantering with her.
Ha, whom is distracting whom exactly? "You are just delaying an inevitable miss, so when you do...you'll blame it on me, my lord."
He laughed, a pleasant sound and sight, and his forearm muscles were maintaining hold on his equipment. "I have sensitive ears, come blow on them." He tipped his head to coax in jest.
"No!" Sansa glanced at the others, and fortunately they were occupied, having their own adventures. Well the world doesn't revolve around you. "Take your shot." She flourished at him, and he turned away from her with a grin. He didn't need much of a build up, soon as his arrow was up, it left the bow and hit the bull's-eye. Typical.
"Done." Jon placed the bow down next to the quiver, and did a sort of march over to her. "What's my prize?"
They matched in height, so she naturally glanced at his full- Dear. She pat him on the back, a little flustered. "There...my lord." She swallowed, and motioned for them to walk anywhere else but there. "I should have known this was your kind of sport." He was shadowing her well, and he tugged politely on what she was still holding. "Oh...sorry." She returned his doublet while scratching her ear awkwardly.
"It's alright, were yer' cold? Or did yer' want a keepsake?"
"I have enough memories to last a life time."
He threw it back on with speed, with a skilled experienced hand. "You can never have too many...hope there all good, my lady?" He said as he checked his collar was out, and she remained deadly quiet, her mind was too busy, filing stuff away. "I wouldn't mind taking yer' hunting sometime..."
Huh? "That's not really me, my lord, that's Arya, imagine if she found out you had taken me, before her?"
"Ah...yer' right about that, she'd never forgive me."
She caught his eyes and they stuck. "She would always forgive you..." It was gentle and full of sentiment, and his orbs clouded. The 'moment' passed, and he sheepishly looked back to where he was walking. He blushed, he blushed?
"Her forgiveness is imperative, but yours, I would yearn for..." Now it was her turn.
Perhaps if they sped up walking, he would get that nonsense out of his head? Out of her head. "You should... want everybody's forgiveness...but what have you been doing to slight people? Something I should know?" She was referring to his behaviour, but a second later she thought of her own 'knowledge.' Those pesky broken egg shells.
"To the trinket stand, I think." Now he was becoming accustomed to changing the subject, better him than me. "You're not getting out of it that easy...I must anoint you." He was ahead of her, beckoning, and it was now she that was following. To the end of the earth. But as they turned into the market precinct, they froze. Oh seven hells. Robb and Jeyne were having a rather heated discussion right in the middle of the walk way. Sansa felt Jon drag a couple of fingers over the back of her hand, either to comfort, or halt her. Either was appreciated. "They haven't seen us." Jon looked to her, and steered her back around the tent. She put up no resistance. They went into hunting mode, eyeing them from a small aperture between two tents. So he had taken me hunting after all.
"It looks like..." She studied them with focused eyes. Robb's hand stroked Jeyne's arm. Huh? She could feel Jon's breath on her ear. "He's pleading with her..."
Jeyne fidgeted away. "She looks like she's having none of it." She heard Jon rumble. "Really confusing, isn't it?"
She nodded. "I'm surprised she is out in the open, she is so brave, not as paranoid as me." She caught Jon observing her with a gentle eye. "What?... She is...savvy."
"I'm not arguing with you." There were trace amounts of a smile there. "Jeyne is tenacious, and Robb..." He looked towards their view, his eyes rounded. "Shit! They're coming straight for us!" Sansa's heart leapt into her throat as her chaperone seized her and literally manhandled her around the tent. They ended up plunging themselves through an orifice, which turned out to be Lady Maegyr's aid marquee. They bumped the back of the chair she was sitting on, and she rose with a gasp.
"Oh..." She recognised and acknowledged them quickly with a short curtsey. "Lady Stark...Lord-?"
Jon was still in a state of hyper vigilance. "-Erm Snow, Lord Snow." He turned from her, and closed the slit in the tent, using his fingers to keep a tiny slither open to spy upon their prey.
Sansa regained her composure, awkwardly trying to mask Lord Snow's actions. "Apologies, my lady, we are doing recognisance work." Their new addition looked confused, but she gave a shaky nod with a smile. She was pretty, and exotic.
"Very well...am I allowed to inquire 'on whom'?" She kept her head respectfully low.
"Erm..." Sansa eyed Jon, whom was still eyeing the hole. "He's...checking-" She gave up, impatiently. "-It's Robb...Robb Stark." She clapped her own sides, and their companion jumped.
"Oh? Your brother...I see, I suppose he's... with somebody of importance to him?" Her eyes had narrowed as if she was trying to wheedle something out of her. Perhaps she needs confirmation he is a good man?
Jon turned then, as Sansa noted the sudden change. Lady Maegyr appeared as if they were ganging up on her, and she slowly found her seat, not taking her eyes off the pair of them. "What do you-" "What do you-" They both said simultaneously, and glanced, then chortled, Lord Snow gestured for her to continue.
"What do you know, my lady?"
"What do you know?" Lady Maegyr said back. How dare she? "I need to know what is known, before I shoot my mouth off, my lady, there's been a lot of talk."
Jon shared a shrewd look with herself, Sansa was stunned, she was being careful, like she? "First things first, are you in love with my brother?"
Lady Maegyr sought her necklace to soothe herself, she swallowed. "I think him handsome, my lady." Aha! "But I should assure you, we aren't courting...I overheard someone imply a pursuit, lies."
Jon stepped forward, Lady Stark allowed it. They were a team. "But you did share a kiss, a fairly intimate one?"
She never took her eyes off them, and slowly shook her head. It was very nearly adorable...she hoped Jon didn't fall for the lady this moment. "No...if you mean a smooch, no." She was adamant. "He's a very handsome man, a kiss from him would have made me flutter...and I very nearly did, he kissed my cheek, and I could have swooned." She laughed gently. "I gave my compliments to Lady Stark... your mother this morning, I heard of an argument the night before, and I begged for an audience with them all."
Sansa needed a chair. Why was there only one? Wasn't this a nursing tent? "So does my brother seek your affections?"
"No. My friendship." She rapped on the chair arms, as if waiting for it to sink in for them both. "He was moved by a story I told him of my betrothed's proposal to me."
Lady Stark's mouth was agape, and Jon started laughing at her expense. Well...he had been wrong too! "You're betrothed! My gods...we thought you were sweet on each other! And having an illicit affair!"
The lady clasped her hands neatly in her lap, with a content seriousness, that Sansa had only ever seen on her mother. Damn, she would have made a good Wardeness. "I hope no other tongues were wagging with those suspicions, I assumed it was just your parents, and err...Lady Roslin?"
Sansa nodded to confirm, though she wasn't sure if she should share that, it was Roslin's mistake. "Then why be so secretive?"
Jon overtook her. "Yeah?"
Seemingly reproached, the lady moved her back forward from the chair. "We weren't really, we first spoke in front of everyone, and I was with him in his tent in the company of a squire, and when we did speak in confidence a couple of times...one was of a rather personal nature."
"You're going to have to elaborate, for the sake of Robb, Sansa is quite sensitive on these matters." Jon butt in, and she shot him a shrewd look upon hearing her name.
"There's no need for an...elaboration, I just need to know what intimate knowledge you have...since you asked me what I knew first, as if the matter was a little deeper and more complicated than a single rumour." This was a trial, and she had to get to the bottom of this.
Lady Maegyr arose from her seat. "It's a shame you can't just ask him?..He's right there." There was an indication, and both Sansa and Jon tensed up before slowly turning. "My lord." The lady dipped in accordance with protocol.
"What's going on?" Robb's immediate presence was odd, and the tent suddenly seemed too small and warm. She hadn't spoken with him in ages, and was yet to come to terms with his indiscretion. "Ask me what?"
Sansa felt her chaperone's eyes burn the side of her face. So he was leaving it to her? "Do...Do you love Roslin?" It burst from her like a backdraft, her hands were shaking at her sides.
"Erm...Roslin loves Uncle Edmure as far as I'm aware, why does that matter?" His frown made him look older and wiser. "Have you been bothering Lady Maegyr over here?"
She was annoyed. "She." Glancing back. "-Was just clearing her name...now tell me, did you love Roslin?" Neither answer would help, she is well and truly lost. It might be her own fault. She felt Jon seek her hand, and she flicked. "Has everything gone wrong?"
Her brother stared, a defeated look as he sought Lady Maegyr's one and only chair, he sighed as he collapsed into it. "Well, the courtship failed before it even started."
Oh no. She could feel herself crumbling again. Sniff it up. "I'm sorry, brother." There was a persistent hand trying to tickle hers. Not now. "I'm sorry... I believed... in the rumour, Roslin... did really like you." She tried.
Robb was sombre, scratching his knee pensively, if not in discomfort. "Yeah...well, she and mother were probably more gutted than I, I'm sorry to say...I went into this very half-heartedly." The chair creaked as he adjusted his position. "I thought she was pretty though..." He winced, as if knowing that's not only what women wanted to hear. "Sorry?"
Sansa was stunned again. Huh? "You're sorry for...? Not fighting for her harder? I'm confused." She shifted closer to the chair. "You did kiss Roslin before your first joust, right?"
"Yeah, a little one...we didn't canoodle, it wasn't enough to mislead her, Sansa. Please don't think ill of me." He reached up across to grab her fingers. "Roslin is happy now, and...I want to..." He rubbed at the leg of his trousers. He looked like a little boy.
"What?" She hadn't heard Jon's voice in a while, and it took her by surprise. "Lady Maegyr has spoken to lord and lady Stark, she will address Lady Frey, you're going to be fine...just fine."
Talisa shifted, folding her arms. "My lord, you really need to tell them now." When all looked to her, she fixed her focus on her feet. Sansa's fingers were being squeezed by her brother, keeping her there. What's going on?
"Alright...Now I know there's a lot of interest gathering in this person, too many suitors, and I know Sam said you were interested." He looked to Jon, and Sansa followed it. Where was this going? She heard her brother blow out a puff of air. "I want ...to marry Lady Westerling."
"..." "..."
Though there was silence, it was the loudest Sansa's mind had been. What?! So her original suspicion had been correct, when she was giving Jeyne the cold shoulder at the jousting? And she was to become her sister? Not only that but...He was going to do the very thing she was convinced was too late? She sought Jon, and his eyes were bulging, and...red, with emotion. Maybe Jon did love Jeyne? She felt one of her knees buckle, and she shirked to right herself. There was plenty of love going around, but nothing for herself...except perhaps the knight?
"Yer' going to right a wrong?!" Jon said in all seriousness. "-Now?!"
"I still love her."
"Still?" She and Lord Snow echoed, haunted. It might not be him reflecting on what Jeyne had done in the past two days, it was the fact Robb might have always loved her...which had been very much unknown.
Her brother was looking earnestly up at her, he wanted her input? She spied Lady Maegyr, silently pleading for her encouragement. She was the confidant, who knew of his woes. "She... will be Lady Of Winterfell...Wardeness of the North?" Don't be a snob. She closed her eyes and took a breath. "Right well..." She clasped her brother's large hands. "Tell mother and father, and then we'll put the past behind us." She wanted to make a dramatic exit, she was done. Done.
Jon made a quick shuffle to the flap, as if he sensed she was about to go. "Wait, wait." Sansa frowned, and turned back to Robb. What now? "Is... she... with child?" Her cousin asked. Dear lords, she hadn't thought of that!
Her brother stifled a flinch. "Ey? What...No! Hells...I don't know!" He seemed offended, and he side-eyed Sansa embarrassed. "I won't hear a bad word about her. If she is...in the family way, she is still allowed to wed! Did you have to say that...in front of my sister?!"
She scoffed from her position at the flap, and the elder of the two women, shuffled to be at Robb's side, as if to advise him. "My dear lord, she is 16, you don't have to be so cagy about it, besides you seem to have her support regardless."
"And, I know about you and Jeyne's history. Jeyne's still my friend." Sansa volunteered. Well she'd have to be her friend, Jeyne's going to outrank her, and according to her brother; will make him happy. She felt the tickle of someone trying to hold her hand again, and again waved it off. "She did have a crush on you growing up, so-"
"-Ha! Did...she has rejected me, Sansa." He said with a slight wobble to his lip, and what small bud of compassion she had, suddenly bloomed.
"She would not, she's crazy about you, brother." She offered, feeling her voice faltering with emotion. It wasn't like she was lying, but she felt like she was icing bread, Jeyne was crazy about every man. "Please tell me you didn't ask her in the middle of the market?..That's not romantic."
"Oh my Lord...after all I told you." Lady Maegyr uttered in anguish, confirming she truly was a confidante.
Her brother squirmed in the chair, his legs stiffening, he glanced up at Jon for Guidance. "Women." Don't you dare.
Jon clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, if you can't give them a decent couple of minutes, how'd do you expect them, to let you have them for life?" Robb folded up in the chair then, his head crashing into his hands. Jon persevered- "You're not 15 anymore, you can't get away with anything basic, especially with a noble woman, and a woman you actually claim to love." Her cousin tried, and her brother chortled into his hands. "And you're sober!"
Sansa nodded in concurrence, stepping forward, back into the epicentre of the heartbreak. "You need to ask her in the Godswood, or..."
"-The treaty summit/ knoll." Jon added.
Yes exactly. Sansa tapped her brother. "More or less alone."
"-At sunset." Her chaperone chimed.
Yes exactly... "Maybe on one knee."
Lord Snow was relentless. "-Facing into the sunlight, so you're bathed in amber light."
Yes exactly, wait, how did he know that? "Err...Don't come empty handed-"
"-Yes, a rose or a ring."
Sansa did a hard blink, she noticed Talisa was giving him a crafty eye. What in the seven was happening? Get out of my brain. "Err...Preferably with a sword on your hip."
Jon clocked her quizzically. "Hm..." And he swivelled back around to her brother. "What the lady said; armed."
Talisa chuckled. "It's still optional really, if you feel the need to defend yourself against a reluctant potential bride?" This also made herself laugh.
Robb appeared inspired. "I'll do it, but...I can't wait until sunset, it needs to be sooner." Robb leapt from his chair, everybody seemed to rebound off him. Calm down. "Preferably before Lord Tully makes an announcement, or else it'll look suspect." He looked between them for anything else. "Well?.."
Sansa was rather put out. "It's not a competition, no one's going to think you're on the rebuff, people are betrothed all the time at festivities, they'll probably be about... 4 more." She caught Jon on the move, and noted he was peering out of the tent.
"Oh err...Lord Harding's just left the market precinct." He flicked the flap shut. "Do you think he'll be one of the 4?"
"He'd better not be." Robb mooched passed them all and vacated the marquee, her chaperone was about to rush after him, so it was her turn to halt somebody, she clenched some of his buttons.
"Hey...Just let Jeyne have her moment, two people vying for her affections. If she is going to get a proposal...let it be from somebody who's..." Talisa is right there, she can't hear about the indiscretion. Lady Stark dropped her voice. "You know..."
Her cousin straightened. "Of course, but you know that is going to be Robb, right, I know I must of seemed opposed to the idea, but I'm for it if he's heart is finally in it. I'll make sure of that...unless Theon decides to step in?"
She gasped. "I completely forgot about him." She covered her mouth with her other hand, since the other was firmly clutching his buttons. "He's going to be devastated."
"Well he knows, that's why he was scrapping with Robb..." He glanced at their company, and also dropped his voice. "Well he was scrapping with Robb because he thought he was trying to put him off Jeyne, by saying she had had a tryst with Harry...which was true, and Theon had attacked him in the hall because he thought he was being a hypocrite with..." He thumbed in the direction of Talisa. "Another random assumption."
She was an idiot. Sansa rolled her eyes. Men...and women. "They should really consult the girl before getting all scrappy, one word from her would have ceased everything."
"Unfortunately men like to win with their fists, than simply talk, or be anointed by their lady." He commented, placing a hand on top of the hand that clutched at him. "Though there are some men, like me, that like the latter more...it beats a slap in the face." They both fell quiet, awkwardly, and shiftily looked at Talisa observing them.
"Nice..." The lady unfolded her arms. "Well, this has been lovely...meeting you that is." She pushed her chair under the table. "I hope things have been cleared up, and I wish you a... bountiful...festival." She politely gestured towards the flap, which was their cue to leave.
They left quickly and quietly. Sansa was the first to break the pact of silence as they walked. "I think Jeyne might have thought she was doing him a favour, turning him down. I bet she thinks very little of herself..." She was expecting a remark back, but Jon looked to be in his own head. He was worried. "She needs to be reassured she is still a...candidate...and worthy..." It felt like she was dropping hints, god knows why? Jon was still pensively staring ahead of the walk way they were using. "Look..." She overtook and stood firm. "Are you in love with her?"
His eyes flicked up to hers bewildered. "What? No." His mouth became a straight line as if something was eating away at his insides. "I'm in shock...it's just-" He blew a muffled raspberry, rubbing his beard. "Robb, I thought was...frivolous...and drunk...and a careless youth...pounced upon...by a lady...one stray night..." Sansa listened, not sure where this speech was going? "I thought he was going to...just be one of those blokes that...lucked out, and moved on from the trauma...or just... let it fester until another solution came along...or overshadowed it. He probably reasoned he'd made an error...Why did he never tell me he had feelings for Jeyne? We're friends." He combed his fingers through his hair. "I can't explain how I feel right now, Robb is..." He screwed up his eyes as if the speech was written on the wall. "Doing...the right thing?"
"Yes, yes, I hope so, you think he doesn't love her?" Sansa was still trying to get her head around that ramble. Very much like one of her own.
"If he says he does, then...I hope so." His eyes were honest and serious, and they searched her. "I hope it's not his way of reining her in though, or claiming her...jealousy can do such a thing, but not all jealousy is a sign of love, it's misplaced." He looked as if he was reeling, his eyes went everywhere, and she laid a hand on him to still his eyes. "I mean...he could even be attempting to amend a mistake he thought he'd made?..I don't know...there's a shift...If she had asked him, I'm sure he would have said 'Yes', I mean their friends right? And I suppose mistake makers do deserve a chance?...Just like me- err-We just live in a very restrained world." He looked haunted by something. "I used to think, me and him were...the same." He was mourning the loss of something. "Kind of wish I still thought that way."
Sansa stared off slightly to the side, dithering on the supposed similarities he claimed. She couldn't deny it. "Well, I thought you two were the same, but...you're not."
He found her again, slotting his head into her line of vision. "Because of the indiscretion, or...legitimacy?"
She was deterred by his tone. "Well not the latter..." Lies. But the indiscretion?..They've both had Jeyne, different ways. "Not in a bad way, anyway. Robb was never a mystery, until now...whereas you, you're an enigma." ...in tight leather. She gave him a nervous smile. "But I'm figuring you out..."
His thick brow arched, and he husked. "Then I hope I don't disappoint."
"-What are you doing?!" It burst from her like a song, instead of dwindling between her ears, and her cousin was both surprised and amused.
"What do you mean?" It was nearly a cough, and he sobered upon her harsh features. "Come on, let's get you kitted in trinkets...the market waits." He tried to thread her arm through his, and he was met with resistance. "Sorry...what have I done now, my lady?"
"We were having a deep discussion on Robb's future, and morale in general, and you were clearly having some... existential crisis, which sounds a lot like me, and now...you're..."Was this his way of coping? Well if it was...he's been doing it for some time now. Jon was studying her, gently. Gently. "-You're flirting with me, my lord." You. Said. It. Out. Loud...Should have dragged out the denial longer.
He retained his smile. Was this his way of- "You noticed."
Huh? Her face was prickling upon being gazed at so ardently. "We're cousins." That felt stupid, the response...not the notion. But he is clearly on the rebuff himself after some unsuccessful attempts with Jeyne...and Alayne? Poor Soul.
Jon appeared slightly uncomfortable, and he rocked back to scrutinize her. "Please don't tell me that's why it's...fruitless." She gasped, and he raised a hand to gently hush her. "Sorry, wrong word...frivolous?" He asked her with a narrowed eye. "No?...Futile?" That smile ghosted his lips, she was getting flustered- in the angry sense- not the other...well, one hopes. "Senseless?... Inviolable?"
"Stop listing words."
And the tiniest huff of a laugh escaped him, and he rocked back towards her as if she had succumbed to his charm. No, she won't.
"I think...I should have said; flirting? Me? No. Not at all...why would yer' dare think that?" It was impossible for Jon, whom was very masculine, to ramble, or be witty. I mean, even when he tried to be pretentious, he still sounded very good natured and kind. "Maybe I'm...drunk?"
"I haven't seen you touch a drop since last-"
"-On you." He did a slight swivel in the dirt when gesturing to her with a little point.
Her mouth was still open as she was still going to finish her last answer, but that went out the window. "You can't...say things like that." She self-consciously looked for...absent people, there was no one around listening.
"This-" He indicated between them. "-Is fairly normal, and it's absolutely harmless, quiet exchanges in words between just us, isn't damaging to one's reputation. It can put people at ease, and sometimes deflect negativity." Her ears were burning, she liked clinical thinking and talking. "It's like banter with an edge." Of excitement? He made to bop her nose, and he nearly missed because she turned her head abashed, he chuckled again. "People overhearing or overseeing these rather tame exchanges, aren't going to alert the sept elders, or worse...your parents." She blinked at the notion, her parents were everything- but they would forgive her. He looked endeared by her learned gaze. "If you're frightened of this because of that, you have nothing to fear...Unless there is... another reason?...Something you know?"
"...None comes to mind." She lied. Though, that wouldn't be a reason...she didn't think so. Perhaps it proves you're not some...social climber?
"Speak freely, I appreciate honesty, not just for my sake...but for your own...security."
"I'm good, my lord." She said simply, walking with a void between them. She need time to think...of a good rebuff? But why did it seem futile?
He sighed, and made to walk nearer. "And I take that as a dismissal, my lady." She side-eyed him, and he laughed. "I bet you think I'm offering to stop? Honestly, I can't...guarantee that... not fully, I'm sorry, my lady." He sung.
"What?" Sansa stopped. "If it's because it's habitual...I pity you, but don't get snippy when I don't precipitate." She grabbed her skirts and made to move to the other side of the street. Strangely enough he remained with her, but kept to the other side like he was stalking her. "We can talk about the tournament...but I'm not a gambler!" She called across while keeping an honourable distance.
His smile was small and reserved. "Neither am I! But you've just won a trinket I'm yet to buy!" People looked at them then, and she had to close in to stop him yelling more incriminating things. His smile broadened upon her anguished approach.
"I don't think that's a good idea, my lord."
"For your comfort, I won't, my lady." His cheerful face looking a little pained, and he gestured for them to continue on, they were nearly on top of the said stall. After some careful side-eyeing on his part, he sighed. "Look, I'm not a flirt by habit, I only do it when it suddenly comes upon me, it's kind of like a social necessity for some...but from life experience, it has never come upon me to flirt. Perhaps I should have forced myself to practice more...but that would be cruel." She sensed him staring at the side of her face, and glanced to confirm it, and quickly looked back to where she was walking. "But... I deal as little as I can to not be too forward, and not worry people." He lingered on her. Alright, received. "But I must admit, and I don't like making this observation... since it may cause offence, especially to you..." What? He seemed to grow weary upon her looking for affirmation. What? "But...you've been skirting around the cusp of flirting too."
She scoffed. "That's called courtesy." She was winded, but she had managed something of a rebuff. "Anything else is just you." She really needed a necklace to fiddle with, to soothe. Well you had your chance.
"I'm saddened by this." He said with no trace of mirth, then he gave her a speculative eye. "But one sided flirting has got us a long way, you must admit."
Sansa weighed this. "Erm...I suppose? One man's flirting is another woman's banter. We are closer...you have never made me feel truly uncomfortable." His eyes became rounder with content, and it was another kind of pretty, she didn't know existed. "And I suppose by the end of this... I will seek your council more often."
"And I can seek yours, my lady." And when she heard it back she felt warm...and gooey. Her hands had begun to shake, so she dropped them so they were swinging at her sides.
"I'm sure you are a lot more worldly than I, my lord?"
"Depends on what you know about me..." He winced and she caught it. Yeah, she knew a lot. Prince Jon beckoned her to walk across the grass verge on the other side of the market. She got the suspicion she was about to be wrangled for more information about her own suspicions. "But we are part of two different worlds, we could work out an exchange of trade and knowledge." I see.
"You're sounding more like a politician, or maestor, than a former watchman, my lord." King.
He gaped, well, Jon didn't gape, he had more control. "I'd like to think; Lord, more like. No, Landowner and...ranger. Yer' know...decent lady's husband material."
And she very nearly walked into one of the orchard trees. Oh gods sake, who put that there. She jarred her head and hunched around it. "You think about stuff like that?"
"The future, yes, not necessarily the ceremony and administration of it all, but the part where I'm settled."
"Oh, so no weddings for you then?" This made her sad, she would have liked to have attended...she might not have liked the bride though. "Shame." It would be. She clasped her hands again to wring them. Gods, the woman would be likened to a Queen, but would be...a bastard princess by law. But no woman should just look for the title, for Jon would be a kind and gentle husband, and that should be enough...for it's not like he has been given a formal title, and he'd be more world weary and humble. She caught sight of his speculative eye again, and sobered. "I suppose pomp isn't for everyone, and you would get more of an adventure if you steal a wife."
He chuckled. "Well, we're alone? And my horse is just about, and laden. And I could possibly overpower you-"
And she shoved him playfully away. "You fell back rather easily, my lord." She countered, but her hands hurt from the firmness of him.
"Either you're full of porridge, or I allowed that to happen." Jon was full of mirth, the kind she could tolerate.
A soundless bark escaped her. "I won't attempt again then, Arya is more inclined to wrestle, I'm delicate."
"Don't reveal your weakness to your opponent, my lady." A thing she had said once to him as a joke. They were rocking from foot to foot as if about to box one another. "Unless you are misleading me? Lowering my guard for you to pounce?" Ha!
And it was after a moment she realised, she could have easily been abducted by him, if he had been inclined. And after another heartrending moment had passed, she realised 'this was indeed flirting.' "Those pesky free folk have made you wild and base." She jested, hoping he didn't take it seriously.
"They have done a great many things...and some..."
Oh she feared this. "I didn't mean that as a genuine slight, my lord, they aren't bad...you aren't bad...I like you."
"Really?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Then I am told, sweet one."
Her movements had stopped with her prior comment, but now she was statuesque. She will allow that, it was sweet. "Where are we heading?" She commented on their surroundings and lack of co-ordination.
"...To check on the... vegetables in the greenhouse?" He offered, and he started to reverse and drift towards the open glass doors. She followed his movements with only her eyes. A Female kind of silence followed. His mischievousness faded when he noticed her ungamely face, he scratched behind his ear. "I'm sorry." He said earnestly, glancing at his feet. "I wasn't going to do anything untoward...it was just a change of scenery."
She tried to be light-hearted about it. "I'm sure that's what an unruly gent would say..." She played with her fingers, and she sensed him slowly approach, as if to wrangle a scared horse.
"And this unruly gent says; let's get back to the events and call upon your mother."
She smiled then, in gratitude, and he, rather nervously placed an arm around her and turned her back towards the castle grounds. "I wonder how Robb has fared?"
She felt Jon's hand moved down to the small of her back during the walk. She did not mind. "Probably the same as me." He commented, and as soon as they hit the hordes of people, his hand slunk away back to his side. Her back was now cold.
They passed the trinket and cake stalls in relative quiet, and it wasn't long until they ran into Lady Stark, whom was being regaled with a tale from the Blackfish, he smiled as he caught sight of her. "There she is...the rose, how's your morning been?" Her mother turned to acknowledge her again.
"Depends on what you have been informed, my lord?" Sansa shifted her glance to her mother, and she simply nodded, that suggested to her Blackfish knew everything. Surely not everything...what of Robb and Jeyne's potential nuptials?
"I take it your morning has been informative?"
That implied he meant 'aswell.' "Yes...and some." Shaking her head regrettably, and her stern looking great uncle laughed. "You'd think happy times would make people good, but I find I'm being challenged...and not in the good way."
"You're getting broody, and at an agreeable age, you'll get better luck next time, sweetheart." Her great uncle said and elbowed her mother, she felt her cheeks redden along with her mother's. "It's actually a Tully pattern, you know? Something goes wrong with the first-"
Her mother stepped in. "Careful, uncle...it's still very raw here. Poor old Brandon."
"Yes, poor old Brandon...and Rickard." He sighed, and Sansa frowned. He's forgot... her mother rightly elbowed him. "Ah...and dear old Lyanna, poor souls." Thank heavens.
She looked to Jon then, his lip was a grim straight line. She couldn't tell if he had been slighted, or was grateful, and was just quietly mourning. Her hand sought his with a delicate stroke, and it was followed by a brief interlocking.
"Are you going to place any bets, Lord Snow?" Her mother said kindly, changing the subject. It was unlike her mother to pardon gambling.
Her great uncle rocked forward towards her cousin. "The mark of a man."
Jon looked up with a bit of a glow. "I'm considering it, never really placed a bet before, I don't think." He grimaced, and Sansa considered it was because he was being studied by the blackfish. Was this the first time they had spoken, ever?
"Are you gonna' tell me who's on your mind?"
Jon sheepishly looked to the womenfolk. "We're talking about gambling, right?"
The blackfish chortled again. "Oooo this one." He clapped a hand on his shoulder, it wasn't much of a reach since most men towered above Jon. "You've only been outta' the watch for 4 years, and he's just getting fresh."
"I'm not a complete green boy of the forest, my lord." He chuckled, but seemed to remember immediately his company. Eerrr?..That's interesting...but it would be a stretch to say she was surprised.
The blackfish was gifting him with an arched brow. Why were men impressed by prowess in courting? "I see...Now, on a slightly lesser interesting note; who are you betting on in the jousting?"
That was one way of diverting for another time. Sansa scoffed. "I think it's obvious who he's going to bet on, my lord." Jon and Brynden looked to her in accordance with their curiosity. "Robb?" Duh.
"Yeah." Her cousin fell into line with her mother, however Brynden shook his grey head.
"Sorry...I know he's my great nephew, and I love him, he's a great sportsman." He began. "But just in case...and to give me some good news in case things fall to shit-." Her mother tutted at his decision and language. "-I will place my bet on the knight."
Oh Forgive me brother, and...Jon. "I think...I am too." Sansa said bravely, considering her mother's scandalised face...and Jon's oddly...amused face. "He doesn't have anybody as we know, in the crowd, like family...I know he might, secretly...but in case he's alone, I will...in a matter of speaking...wave his banner." She didn't want to look at anybody.
The blackfish gave a rich, almost dirty chuckle, that reddened her more than the admission. "I suppose you'll be giving him your favour next?"
Sansa thought, and felt sunken. "Alas, I can not...unfortunately Lord Harding still has it, and I don't have the nerve to demand it back, let alone want to go anywhere near him."
Blackfish suddenly clapped her cousin on the back, and she blinked in surprise at the anointing. "Perhaps you could persuade him, lord snow?"
Eeerrr no thank you, very very awkward. Jon shared a careful look with her. It was mutual. "Unfortunately, the lord and I have serious issues with one another...I bet yer' not surprised, but any talk with Harry...whether civil or firm, will end in bloodshed."
Her mother nodded. "I think the lord might forego Sansa's favour, for...Lady Westerling's." Oh no mother. And on that note, the trumpets sounded to mark the preparation for the jousting. The blackfish offered his arm to her mother, she took it and turned to herself. "Sweetling...I will place your bet on your behalf, I won't have a young lady fall into the rabble."
Sansa half-heartedly agreed and turned to her chaperone, feeling a little more optimistic than usual, almost expecting him to be offering his arm, she was however mistaken. "Erm, shall we?" He looked rather peculiar, very hesitant and less content. He's working his cogs. "I'll hang back as you place your bet." This was getting awkward, this was clearly some kind of rejection, for her somewhat rejection of him. Well...you haven't exactly rejected him, you have denied flirting with him.
He suddenly thumbed behind him. "Erm...I have to check on... your brother, forgive me." He was going to dash off, she could see it in the angulations of his body, but his hand self- consciously scooped up her hand, and he leant, his face hovering an inch from the surface, his nose touched her knuckle, and he flicked his eyes up to hers. "My lady." Oh. He released her, and if she had known she'd feel so unsatisfied, she would have bumped the back of her hand against his lips herself. "Go to the stands and...make sure the other ladies are all accounted for...yer' know who I mean." He bobbed his head, and he reluctantly jogged off towards the athletes marquees, leaving her a little annoyed, and bereft. Why did it seem like he wouldn't be joining her?
Author's note; Kind of sad you guys think Jon is unworthy of Sansa because he lost his virginity to an abusive Ygritte. Jon is grey, but he is good, but he deep down thinks he is like Sansa, that he is damaged goods because of loss of innocence. Not all men that pine for a woman make a beeline for them straight a way, they go on a journey...Jon's journey was wrought with disaster. I still like to think show and book Jon had a crush on Sansa growing up, and look what he did in the show and book, the path lead him right where he always wanted to be.
Jon joined the nightswatch after the death of his mother at 11, it was his way of coping, he wanted purpose, and he was disillusioned. Jon's crush on Sansa bubbled under the surface for years, the greenhouse incident coincide with Arya's nameday, and made things a little worse because he very nearly kissed his pretty cousin who was 10, and he got a boner (well still had an existing boner), and he was due to return to castle black soon. Mortified.