authorsnote: so excited to update this!
god I love this story and mapping it out is making me even more excited for it!
I do hope you feel the same excitement and enjoy! let me know if you do - whats your fav aspect? I love to know!
songrecs: warriors - 2wei/edda hayes (imagine dragons cover)
The days following the big announcement were … surprisingly uneventful.
Everyone seemed to just get on with things. Jon held his council meetings, handed out some Lordships and figured out what to do with empty Keeps. Her Father easily slotted himself in as a Chief Advisor to Jon and found comradery and a useful place as the bridge with the older Lords. Robb struggled a little more but managed to carve out a place once announced as Lord of the Dreadfort (the positive reaction to the announcement had helped). Her Mother busied herself with Rickon and establishing her place now, and her baby brother seemed content to be back home.
It was probably she who struggled the most.
Not that it looked like it.
She kept up with the accounts of the Castle, proceeded with her plans for the glass gardens, pleased to see they were ahead of schedule. She looked over their food reserves, talked to Lord Royce at length about the state of the Vale, and performed her duties with a smile.
She acted as the Lady of Winterfell, as she was, but she knew it was more than that, and it pulled her straight back to the worries she'd began to have.
She knew she was acting like a Queen, when she wasn't one, and wouldn't be. In fact, it seemed she had more to worry about on that front, about being side-lined.
With the arrival of so many Lords many had brought along their daughters. All pretty, all eager for marriage, and many eyeing up Jon. She could see the attraction to her brother, he was handsome, Northern, the King! But also a good man, kind, a hero to most, many even looked upon him as some kind of God in the wake of what had happened to him, she had to admit he was a catch (and she tried to ignore how clear that was to her).
She knew soon he'd be snapped up, not through choice but necessity. He needed to continue the Stark line, Robb may be back but was still in a state of shock over his wife, that she had survived for one, and the mystery of where she was now, Father and Mother were past having children, and Rickon too young. Jon held that responsibility now.
And technically she supposed so did she, and she had noted people picking up on that.
In fact, as the ladies began to eye Jon, the Lords began to boast about their sons and heirs. It was more subtle, likely out of respect for her station (and fear of Jon), but it was there.
Already several Lords had tried to corner her.
They aren't subtle, not like they think they are. They parade their achievements, they talk of their homes (as if anywhere could be better than Winterfell), they offer her pretty compliments and she returns tight smiles and brusque nods before avoiding them.
As a girl she'd have been fawning over such handsome Lords being so complimentary to her, swept up in the romance of it all, now she just finds the whole thing quite tiresome.
She tells Jon as much one night when they are in his solar, night having crept up on them as they talk through the plans for the banners coming to Winterfell, as they sip tea and talk late a fire crackling, Ghost and Lady at their feet.
She doesn't notice his clenched fist by his side, not the glare he shoots the door (as though Ser Arthur Glenmore, one of her more … insistent suitors stands behind it).
"You don't have to marry if you don't want to" He insists, and that has her smiling. Most Kings would see her as a prime bargaining chip to marry off, the fact that Jon cares for her first makes her heart warm.
"I don't" She responds, and he nods, but she notices his cheeks go a little red, she manages to ignore it, shrug it off, for she doesn't know what it means.
All she knows is she told the truth, she doesn't want to marry, to be a Lady of a House not as great as Winterfell and too far away. She wants to remain here, to rule here. This is where she belongs.
And that circles back to her main problem, the horrible emptiness she feels at the idea of not being the ruler here, of seceding her power to Jon's Queen as she will have to when the time comes. She doesn't notice that part of the horrid hollowness is that her relationship with Jon will have to change, no more late nights together, no more falling asleep on his shoulder, no more him and her and no one else.
Acknowledging it would make it too hard, to imagine Jon ripped away from her when she's just got him back.
She knows she has the rest of her family now, and as the days pass she settles into a closeness with them, as it had been when she was younger, though without the dependence on her part, or the ease on theirs (for how do they deal with their spymaster daughter and sister?), but with Jon it is different.
It has always been, from when they were children and ignored one another, to where they are now, a closeness few can replicate, and her desire to keep it that way. They had once been the last of the Starks, just the two of them, relying on one another, that doesn't go away, it won't go away.
So, why can't she be the Queen?
It is an intrusive thought she has had many times since she and Jon took Winterfell back, and one she tries her hardest to ignore.
There are only two ways she could sit with a crown on her head. Either she'd need to take it from Jon (which is what Littlefinger wants, though he's been noticeably absent the past few days – she'll need to check in on that), or she'd need to sit by his side. She knows the latter isn't possible, she tries to ignore the fact it could be, that's not them.
Why can't it be?
She tries to shake that thought away, forces herself too as she trudges through the courtyard, to Jon's solar. They meet once a week to go through the accounts, the plans for the battle ahead, the stock of Winterfell and soldier numbers, today is that day, and so she forces herself to not think on how she could be Queen without betraying Jon (as she would never do), for it isn't possible.
Why can't it be?
Her mind tries to force the thoughts on her, but with a tight-lipped mouth and a set to her jaw she pushes them away, reaches his door and steps inside. She feels a horrible squirming guilt when those thoughts even come to mind, she's never dwelled on them, explored them, she can't, she won't.
She isn't expecting her Father to be present as she steps inside and feels a childish little twinge that Jon has changed their ritual. She hates that feeling, of being a girl again, jealous, and petty. She is beyond that – or at least, she wants to be, she should be.
"Jon" She says with a smile, smothering her slight disappointment, she knows its more than that, she isn't jealous of her Father! She is just wary, of being replaced, as is her biggest fear.
For one day, and one day soon, she knows she will be.
"Sansa" Jon smiles at her then and that alone eases some of her tension, "The accounts will have to wait, Father has raised something urgent"
She nods then and hates herself for the thrill that their normal routine will carry on, unimpeded, but she manages to ignore her own pettiness as she turns to Father, who offers her a kind smile, but the tension is unmistakeable on his face, it has her expression turning to one of concern. "Father, what is it?"
"Baelish" He spits out, and her eyes widen, it takes much for her Father to become angry, but he is positively brimming with it now, that scares her, "Is he still here?"
"I believe so" She says with a nod, she has been handling Petyr, as Jon trusted her too, "Why?"
"He is a traitor" Her Father said with a shake of his head, "He betrayed me in Kings Landing, said he'd support me in enforcing Robert's wishes of a Regent, to tame Joffrey, but instead he held a knife to my throat and helped throw me in the black cells"
A little gasp leaves her lips, and Jon nods at her, his expression grim, he is nearly as angry as Father, possibly more. Her face twists then as her Fathers words sink in, as she takes in the meaning of them, and she feels something in her stomach.
Fury.
He betrayed their family! And yet, he had swept her away, promised her he was on her side, promised to protect her, that he cared for her. Of course, she'd always known his motives were suspect, and had used them to her advantage. But this? He is part of the reason for their family's downfall, perhaps the main reason!
She feels so stupid, played by him like a fiddle, his fingers plucking the strings as she danced to a pretty tune, it makes her feel sick. She had underestimated him, believing him teaching her had raised her to his level.
She had been wrong, so wrong. Yes, she was adept now at playing the game, plucking the strings, and moving the pieces as Littlefinger did, manoeuvring and manipulating just as he had taught her, but not like him, never like him. The student becomes the Master, but she never had, he was beyond her abilities.
And he had known it, and used it, and betrayed their family.
Fury.
"He must be tried" She says, her hands shaking a little, and she notices Jon rise, to move around the table, his hand finding her shoulder, offering her some comfort, even angry as he is himself. She manages a tense smile, misses her Father's look of concern, but nods, Jon's comfort is enough to stop her shaking, though nothing could cool her anger. "Honour demands it"
"Aye" Her Father says, "We must bring justice"
All three of them nod then and she feels an odd surge of pride. This is the Stark way, the way of their House, and they will deliver it. She knows they will pass the sentence, her and Jon, and Jon will swing the sword, as is their custom, their way, the Northern way.
"We will" Jon says fiercely, and with a deep breath she nods, and turns in a whirl of her dark skirts to the door.
"Get the guards" She feels a little jump of worry then, that she hasn't seen Baelish in days. Has he fled? Is he hiding? Cold settles in her stomach. The Knights of the Vale remain, she had seen Lord Royce just that morning. A grimace paints her lips, "I haven't seen Littlefinger for a few days, since the announcement, we must flush him out, he can't have gotten far"
"Like a rat in the crypts" Jon says with a nod, and then he steps outside, calls to the sentry, and within minutes there are 6 guards with them, and Jon is ordering them to scour Winterfell. "Find him" He commands and the men nod, gathering even more men, their King commands, they do, "Find him and bring him to me"
But Jon is not one to be idle, which she is glad for. She watches as he picks up his sword; Longclaw, and whistles to Ghost who trots to his side, but then as Jon nods his head, Ghost instead finds his way to her, nudging his nose to her skirts, Lady joins him, but smaller, much smaller, Ghost is near at her hip now.
"Us three will make our own search party" Jon says, and her Father nods, picking up castle forged steel, she feels a pang it is not Ice, and then a thought comes to her, but one she files away for another day, right now they have higher priorities. She has no sword, as Jon knows, but Ghost is at her skirts, and he will protect her, as will Lady, fierce too, if smaller.
'No one can protect me' She'd once said to Jon, how wrong she had been.
Jon protects her, as she does him, as they both will now, as Father will protect them both, and the same they will back. As they emerge from the solar and make for the courtyard, their boots crunching in the snow, Ghost and Lady starting the chase.
The Stark's will protect each other, always, against any threat, including mockingbirds.
Unfortunately, it seemed like the mockingbird had flown the nest.
As Sansa had said, an eyebrow raised, an expression of fury on her face, her phrasing often better than his. He just fumed quietly, his hand gripping Longclaw. He knew he would use this sword to rid Baelish of his head, one day, just not today.
He had wanted to for a long time, never trusting the man, never trusting him around Sansa. He had always seen his smug expression, his little comments that always had a double meaning. For Jon there had been some politics at the Wall, some sneaking and spying, but never on the level of those from Kings Landing.
At the Wall sometimes he had acted without honour, but in Kings Landing they simply didn't have any, no matter the situation.
And Littlefinger was one of them.
Sansa had insisted though, she'd handle it, they couldn't fracture relations with the Vale, she knew how to deal with him. And Jon had listened, he trusted Sansa, deeply, more than anyone probably, and so he had nodded, glared at the spymaster but left it in Sansa's capable hands.
If he had known what he had done to Father though, Jon would have rid him of his head the first night in Winterfell. He now wishes he had.
"We'll find him" He says, mainly because he feels he has to, he feels responsible somehow, but Sansa just shakes her head, her expression sadder now.
"Not if he doesn't want to be found" Is all she offers, and he tries to give her a smile, to cheer her up, but he knows where he is blaming himself, she is doing so to herself, but even more so. He doesn't blame her though, Sansa is good, but he hates to admit; Littlefinger, the snake, is better.
"Come on" He says, and he holds his arm out for her then, knowing even now she likes a show of gallantry, even when she claims she's all past it; he knows she still likes to be treated like a Lady now and then, and wants more than anything now to see her smile.
He often sees it; in the way she likes to take his arm, in the way she still smooths her skirts when she sits down, in the way she is adept at hiding her emotions through her tutoring with Littlefinger yes, but as she'd confided in him, also from her time with Margaery. 'A lady does not wear her emotions on her sleeve' She'd said, in a pretty good imitation of the Southern accent, grinning and batting her eyelashes which had, had him laughing.
And it works, as she nods, and manages a small smile, slips her arm through his. They both turn to their Father then and he feels an odd creeping sense of guilt for some reason as he thinks those words, 'Our Father'. He doesn't analyse that too closely.
"I need to go and speak to Cat" He says, and Jon nods, he is aware Littlefinger was a childhood friend of Lady Stark, he was always convinced (as was Sansa) that was the reason for Littlefinger's interest.
"Right" Jon says, and nods again, "We'll see you at dinner"
"Don't you want Fathers perspective on the accounts?" Sansa asks as they walk to the solar, arm in arm, their heads bent together, to an outsider it looks intimate, to them it is just natural.
"No" He shakes his head and offers her a smile, "That's for me and you"
He turns to open the door then and misses Sansa's smile, and how she looks thoroughly cheered up at his words. He doesn't realise how much they mean to her, as he opens the door for her and they head inside, the accounts calling to them, just them.
"We need to ensure we bring in at least another two kilos of grain, possibly three per household" Sansa said.
It was an hour later, they were both more relaxed, happier, deep into the accounts by now. It was the same routine; Sansa called for a pot of tea and a lemon cake, Jon called for water, but always ended up having a cup of tea, they both sat behind Jon's desk, pouring over the accounts for the month, chairs nudged together, even leaning across one another at points.
Jon focused on soldiers, troops, the numbers, and the training of them. He focused on siege equipment, the number of men they could call on, how close their banners were to fully forming. His focus was on the army, the men who would defend them and Winterfell.
Sansa focused on food, supplies, equipment. Whereas Jon commanded the army, she was the one to feed them. She oversaw the construction of the glass gardens, of her current plan to harvest wheat from the county side, to ensure they had another leather, armour, and horses.
They worked in harmony, the two knowing their roles, their areas of expertise, the areas they needed help in. It was a well-choreographed dance at this point, and one they were good at.
By noon they called for lunch as they always did, both happily thanking the servants for the hearty broths paired with thick grain bread. They'd each lunch and work until dinnertime, and then join their family.
That was the only change this time; they had a family to join at the end of the day.
Though, Sansa supposed they had before. They had the wildlings, the men of the North, their trusted advisors, and their guests. They had dined with Tormund cracking vulgar jokes, Davos offering an intriguing story, and the Northern Lords jockeying for Jon's attention.
They had the Stark's back now, it was better yes, but to pretend they'd had no family would have been a lie.
Before even they had often been joined in the solar. Tormund would come in to talk through the army, plans for the wildling scouts and wargs. Davos would sit in most sessions, particularly to discuss battle plans, he'd often add to her plans as well, as Hand of the King, he was wise, insightful. They would invite Lords to give their opinion, it worked well. Jon had spearheaded the idea, taking it from Father, to make everyone's opinion feel welcome and respected, it had always worked a charm.
"Aye" Jon said with a nod, "The mountain clans are yet to arrive in full, their numbers look promising" He ran his finger down the map that occupied the desk then, moving aside some papers to point down the line the clans would march, "They should be here in a week, maybe sooner"
"That should be fine" She said with a nod, "The first harvest from the glass gardens should come out next week, tomatoes and peppers" She said with a little grin, for she was very proud of her project, hence after the first she had ordered three more, and perhaps more when the War was over.
"I don't know the last time I ate a tomato" Jon said with a smile and she couldn't help but roll her eyes and laugh.
"I'll save you the first one" She said as a promise, and Jon laughed too.
"We'll split it" He promised, and she nodded, both grinning now.
She felt a little warmer as they then went back to their maps, their charts. This… this felt normal.
She was glad to have her family back of course, so pleased they'd returned, but it had shaken things a little. She was glad to see it hadn't too much, she still had Jon, their own kind of peace they'd achieved. It was normal, it was good.
It was what she was so terrified of losing.
Either because of war … or a new Queen.
The warm feeling vanished almost as soon as it had appeared when she thought of that. Thought of her own insecurities again, the ones she didn't look at too much, for fear of what she'd think if she did. Thankfully she didn't have too long to dwell on them, as a knock on the door had them both lifting their heads as Jon called for whoever it was to come in.
It was a servant, a soldier who bowed his head in respect. Again, she felt that horrid pang; she didn't care about the deference, but would someone else soon sit in this chair? Acknowledged as Queen?
Would she even sit in Jon's solar and go over the accounts with him? Would that be the Queen's job?
"No sign of him your Grace" The soldier said with a sad expression, one of apology. Jon just nodded, waved the man away. He was always so good at that, his men were never unnecessarily scared of him, they respected him.
Cersei would say it was better to be feared than loved, Father would say choose love, Sansa couldn't help but feel both were useful.
'When I am Queen, I will make them love me'
The men of the North did love her, the kind, beautiful Lady of Winterfell. But Lady, not Queen. That was the key distinction, the line in the snow.
"We need to speak to Father" Jon said, and she jolted from her thought as he stood, annoyed she could see clearly, "We can't make mistakes like this" He shook his head, "We need to understand, what else in Fathers story, even your Mothers, what else we need to know, we need to go back, before they died, understand if there is anything else, we don't have time for any of this" He shook his head – more than annoyed then, angry.
Sansa just nodded, caught up in her own thoughts, but also, she knew Jon was right. "You're right" He offered her a tight smile at her words, and she managed one herself.
"Are you alright?" He asked then, coming to a halt, and she managed a better smile then, for Jon's concern of her. Here he was fighting on two fronts, and a million small battles, angry and agitated himself, and still he stopped to check she was okay.
Would he do the same for his Queen?
"I am" She managed to say, she wasn't, but Jon had enough to worry about without fussing over her. And her worries? They were private, very private, and she intended to keep them that way. Forever.
"You are right, we need to talk to Father and Mother, talk to them about anything else that happened in the South" She noticed Jon grimace then and she even managed a laugh. "What?"
"Doesn't seem as important" He said with a shrug, "The North is where our focus should be" He shook his head, "I know though, we can't miss anything else"
"The North is our focus" She said, and she noticed that her tone had become fierce, and it made Jon smile; she liked that, that they shared their passion for the North, for Winterfell, for their people. "But we have two wars to fight"
He scowled again but nodded, he knew as did she that if they survived the War for the Dawn another war would swiftly follow. They had to be ready for both. She knew she was more focused on the South, one eye on it always, Jon, almost all focus to the North, it worked, their partnership, their focuses. It worked. Everything about them did.
So why couldn't she be Queen?
She scolded herself then for her thoughts and tried to shake them away, issues with them on many levels, some she didn't even want to comprehend, some she couldn't comprehend. Instead she picked up her cloak, felt Lady brush at her skirts, Ghost next to her, Jon at her side too. It felt like family, as they walked into the snow.
Would they still be hers when the crown rested on another?
She didn't know
sooo thoughts?
please do not get mad at me for sansa's insecurities! I wanna make this clear - sansa is not the 'badass, no flaws, can play littlefinger' as she was in the show. I feel that destroyed her character, painting over her flaws! I prefer to go with the book sansa with a smattering of what she's learned in the show!
anywho, did you enjoy? do let me know what you like and dislike! I always like to know (providing you ain't just a meanie)
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