Author's Note:
This is my first ever attempt at Game of Thrones Fanfiction. During my current rewatch I noticed for the first time ever an adorable three second scene between Edd and Sansa in 6x04. I figured I would be the change I wanted to see in the fan fiction world and help add some fan fiction to this pairing.
0.1
For the first time in years she feels safe in the moment. There is no Joffrey, no Tywin, no Littlefinger, no…Ramsay. There was only her and Jon in the little world that was the Nights Watch.
She had never paid attention to the group of men that protected the wall. Stories about them didn't feature the flair and pomp of knights and princesses and queens. While the boys were brought along to watch deserters be beheaded, that work and those bodies were kept far away from her innocent eyes and even more innocent mind.
They should have scared her. They were once criminals. Thieves, murderers, rapers. Black cloaks and frozen fingers couldn't exactly change what was underneath. Some- some had even murdered Jon. Their leader, their commander, they put knives in his chest and heart.
But they were not all bad. Most of the men that surrounded her brother were kind and tried their best to make her time at Castle Black comfortable. Even now as she stood at the top of landing looking over at all of them she could see one of them standing nearby, hand on the pommel of his sword, watching her.
She has spent the past few years knowing what it feels like to to be watched in unsavory ways, to feel the heat and curls of perversion when some men look at her. This is not what she feels here at the wall with the member of the Night Watch watching over her with such obvious.
Edd she believes his name is, a friend of Jon.
For the first time in her recent memories she lets herself breath easily. Danger still lurks in the world, but in these few minutes she knows that she is safe. Edd is watching her, and she can allow herself a moment of respite.
0.2
She felt like she had eaten every from of delicacy. Every meal at Kings Landing was dripping in flavor, oil , and grease. It was always leaving her fingers tasting of perfection even after the meal. By the end of her time there though all the spices and flavors turned to ash in her mouth.
The Vale had had beautiful meals each one made in a hurry to please the latest whim of Sweet Robyn Arryn. At first she enjoyed the variety and the excitement of each meal. Then as she learned that the bird sitting on her plate had been made from a cook with a fear of flying, it too lost its flavor.
The Ramsay's were Northerners through and through even if they were traitors. The food at Winterfell had been as tough as the people there. The same tough meats and vegetables that she had grown up with all her life. The first meal she had had there she had wanted to cry. It tasted of home. If she had closed her eyes then she could easily imagine dinners with her father and mother and siblings all alive and well beside her.
After her…marriage the meals no longer tasted of home. They tasted of cries in the middle of the night, of yells that people chose to ignore, of bruises and bite marks and cuts that she knew would never leave her body.
Now she took delicate bites of food at the Nights Watch, tasting nothing. There was no flavor here, no spices, no ornamental flavors fighting to be dominant over one another. It tasted of food, of pure sustenance.
"Sorry about the food. It's not what we're known for," Jon's friend and fellow man of the Nights Watch, Edd, told her from across the table.
She felt herself blushing to her ears, knowing her facial expressions had given her obvious distaste for the food away.
"That's alright, there are more important things," she chuckled.
Edd shares a small smile with her. It makes her reserved expression grow to a full smile. She wonders if the last time she smiled this way was before her father was beheaded in front of her. Or was it even before that? Before she ever stepped foot in Kings Landing, before her precious wolf had been executed, before she had been forced to see that not all Princes spoke with soft tones with words of love?
She heartily fills another spoon with her unflavored mush and raises it to Edd in a mockery of a toast. There is no golden goblets littering the table, no instruments filling the room with sounds of tales to be written, there is none of the decor or scenery that usually accompanies a toast. But, there is for once in her short adulthood a reason to toast and that makes his lifted brown mug and eyebrow in return all the more satisfying.
0.3
She wondered if she had learned how to scowl from the Lannister or the Boltons. The longer she sat in the cold of the Night Watch, waiting for Jon to make his plans for their rescue of Rickon and Winterfell, the more sure she was that her scowl had become permanent. The cold of the ice may have lit a fire in her blood when it came to her desire to take back her home, but the never-ending battle of her life felt all the more scowl worthy when she couldn't feel her fingertips.
"Yer brother wanted me to come in here and tell you that things should be settled soon, and he'll come back in to speak with you once it's all dealt with," a male voice broke her petulant thoughts.
Jumping in her seat, Sansa whirled her head around to see Edd standing back towards the entrance of the room. Propriety normally would dictate that Sansa not be alone with a man, especially a man of his age and lack of nobility. But propriety also had once said that a man like her father wouldn't be formally decapitated in front of a ravenous for blood crowd.
With a little titter she thought that neither of husbands would be able to say much about her being alone with a man anyway.
"Yes, I'm sure he is sitting in wait for when he must come and speak to me again," she scoffed.
Her and Jon's reunion was still a happy one. They were all each other had. When Jon held her in his arms it was the closest she would ever get to being held by her father's or by Robb's. She was sure the squeeze of her hand reminded him of the days when he would squeeze Arya's after she would be scolded for running off again. He was her family. Yet, she was sure that he was unhappy with the situation that had befallen him and her own demands that they take the North back from the Boltons.
"He thinks yer brave you know," Edd said.
If the Lannisters and Boltons had made her a scowler then Littlefinger had made her a skeptic. Her lips pursed in what she could only hope was a not too matronly expression. She was sure her Septa had made the same unpleased turns of her mouth before.
"Brave or foolish? I'm sure you all here think I'm just some fanciful woman who knows nothing of what she speaks of," Sansa sighed.
This world did not think kindly of women. It was what allowed them to touch them with less delicacy and care with the very hands that caressed and worshipped the blades of swords. The men of the Night Watch even more so than others were probably now tired of her presecense than most men would. Any soft affections they may have had for her as Jon's sister must have been spoiled now that she was demanding her leave them and his vow behind.
"From what it seems you have faced more battles than many of these men, Lady Stark. In much closer quarters too. You don't have to have held a sword to know how to fight," the man said with a shrug of his shoulders.
Sansa felt near sparks under the surface of her skin at his words. Holding a sword aloft was not something she would ever be able to do and her will to survive could only go so far when it came to fighting her battles. But, it was true. She had fought. She had fought again and again. While she was sure that Jon knew this about her, could see it in the way he stared at her sometimes when he thought she couldn't notice, Edd was the first man who had told her so.
"You're a good man," she said finally after much inner debate.
It is hard for her to say those words to anyone anymore, but she knows they are true as they leave her mouth.
"Coming from you that seems like one lofty bit of praise," he responded.
For another time, Sansa found herself smiling.
0.4
She didn't trust the Dragon Queen. She didn't trust anyone that didn't have the surname Stark if she was being honest. Since the moment she left Winterfell as a little girl she had known corruption, she had known evil, she had known madness. The Dragon Queen for her polite smiles and loyal followers showed signs of all three.
The Dragon Queen was power hungry.
The Dragon Queen was jealous.
The Dragon Queen was mad.
Sansa wasn't the only one that eyed her with wariness.
Her little sister could be found lurking in every dark corner of the castle watching the white haired beauty with the same suspicion that had always been on her features when Littlefinger roamed the castles. If there was an instinct Sansa trusted just as much as her own it was Arya's.
Edd, the Lord Commander of the Nights Watch that had joined them with Tormund recently, seemed just as wary as the two Stark girls. Sansa watched the almost nauseous expression on his face every time the Dragon Queen and her dragons flew by. Sansa knew he had faced worse things than a beautiful Queen while on the Wall. For him to be wary of Daenerys…she could only hope that Jon could see these signs too.
0.5
Sansa was leaning over a book of numbers, hoping that if she could just stare at them a little bit longer that they would change.
She had spent months working out the rations of food they needed to survive, and in one fell swoop Jon had thrown all those hours to the dirt and left their people with starvation looming above them.
If the Night King didn't get them, then the cold nights of winter on a forever empty stomach would.
She let herself settle into a chair behind the high table, her hands coming to rub at her temples. Her head had been pounding constantly since Jon had returned with their new ruler. She sighed. A long rattled sound that sounded far more despondent in the empty room.
"Um…everything alright there, San-Lady Stark?"
Almost empty room.
Sansa raised her head up to find Edd, still clad in his black clothes and cloak, standing in front of the high table. She watched as he nervously fidgeted with his hands, looking at everywhere and anywhere around the room that wasn't her.
She felt herself smile.
"Sansa is fine, Lord Commander," she said, feeling the soft smile remain on her lips.
She thought she had forgotten how to do that. How to smile and feel the pressure ease.
"I'm not-" he began harshly, finally looking at up at her with narrowed eyes before quickly cutting himself off.
She didn't fight the urge to smirk. Clearly he wouldn't need to be told twice to forget she was a lady.
"There ain't no wall anymore, ain't no Night's Watch, fair to say there ain't no Lord Commander." He finally said, his shoulder falling back from their previous tense position.
Sansa sat silent for a moment, mulling over what he said. There was no wall anymore. The dead were marching through the Seven Kingdoms as they spoke. Win or lose there would be nothing left for the Night's Watch to protect them from or in a worst case scenario anything for them to protect.
"What are your plans then? For when all this is over?" she asked.
His eyes widened slightly at her question, and she smiled again at catching him off guard. For so long she had thought that it was impossible to shock men the way they had so often shocked her. But, she had learned that most times an unexpected question was enough to send men reeling clumsily in their thoughts the way she would have stumbled clumsily with a sword.
He looked down, seemingly giving the question thought. Sansa said nothing. She didn't mind waiting for an answer. Every second spent on this converstation was a second spent with her mind on something other than the image of starving Northern children. Or worse.
Edd looked up after a moment. His gaze locking with hers fairly quickly.
"I ain't got no idea. Doubt I'll live through the war with the dead anyhow," he shrugged.
Sansa felt her lips downturn almost instantly. Out of all the answers she had been guessing, that hopeless one was not one she had expected. Her stomach clenched, and it was as if knots were tying and retying themselves inside of her.
"Do you have such little faith in the living, Edd Tollett?" She asked.
She stood up this time, looming over him with the added height given to her by the platform beneath the high table.
"I've seen the army of the Dead. I've seen them destroy the largest structure ever made. It don't matter how much faith I have in the living, the Dead will kill it just the same as it will kill all of us," he answered.
She cocked her head to the side, shocked and impresses that he wasn't going to back down with the Lady of Winterfell herself infront of him. The two of them stood, seemingly at odds, staring at each other. After only a few moments, she knew he wouldn't be backing down from his stance. She took a quick glance around the room, before asking her next question.
"You have no faith in the living it seems. But what of dragons? Surely you have faith in them and their Queen?" She said, walking along the back of the table to come around it's side.
Unlike her, Edd didn't look around the room before speaking. She wondered what it felt like to care so little for the game of thrones they were living in to not give second thoughts to who or what could be overhearing you.
"I don't have no faith in Kings or Queens. I've seen enough of them to know that no matter how immortal they seem, they all can end up dead just the same. No one survives this world we are living in, title or no title," he said.
"Yet here you and I stand. We've survived this far," Sansa smirked, walking down from the platform to stand infront of him.
He smiled at her, looking to the side and scoffing through the almost grin spreading across his features. She felt a giggle work it's way up her throat but swallowed it down. Only silly little girls with silly dreams and silly fancies of romance giggled.
"Don't know how considering how many times your brother nearly led me straight to my end. 'You have the wall now Edd'. 'Let's go gather the Wildlings, never mind that they and an army of the dead want us dead out there Edd." "Take this Lord Commander cloak Edd'." He muttered.
Sansa laughed out right then at his gruff and more proper impression of Jon.
"You're very important to him you know…" she began.
Forgetting the books of numbers behind her, forgetting the silver haired Dragon Queen, forgetting the dead walking toward them. She walked by him, back straight and head held high.
"You'll survive the army of the Dead, Edd Tollett and after you do the Lord and Lady of Winterfell will always be ready to offer you a place in our home," she said, not daring to look back at him.
She felt his eyes on her as she walked out of the room, her heart a little lighter and a giddiness in her she never thought would return giving her steps a little more grace.
0.6
Winterfell was her home, and she would rather die a million deaths then see it the hand's of an enemy ever again. The Night King included. There was no choice really. They had to win. They had to survive. They had to live to see another day. If they didn't then every loss, every moment of torture, ever battle had been for naught. And that was something that Sansa Stark couldn't bear to think about.
She found herself pacing. Hours earlier she had sat in comfortable silence with Theon, enjoying a bowl of soup outside. Even with the fear of the dead looming over them, she had been comfortable in that moment. Safe, warm, surrounded by the men and women that were hers. Theon, Jon, Arya, Bran, even the Hound and Tormund.
"The lone wolf may die, but the pack survive," she murmured to herself.
"Ay. You Starks have the queerest pack I've ever seen," the voice of Edd Tollett agreed.
Despite her best efforts, Sansa jumped at the sound of his voice. The sounds of men and women preparing for war did nothing to her as they clashed together around her, but his voice stood out amongst all the rest.
He gave her an apologetic smile, as he came up to stand beside her on the battlements, overlooking the courtyard. Gendry and the rest of the men of the forge were handing out weapons by the dozen, the gleam of dragonglass catching the firelight as they traded hands.
"Do all of the men of the Nights Watch never make their presence known before speaking or just you?" Sansa asked him, the side of her mouth curling up in a smirk.
"I learned being quiet has it's favors. Reckon that's why I've lived this long," he shrugged.
"Remember what I said…Edd. The North will always have a place for you after you live even longer past this night," Sansa told him, her hands brushing of the snow on her cloak.
"Ay. You should be in the crypts Sansa, the dead are here," he told her.
Sansa chewed on her lower lip, wringing her hands even more. He barely acknowledged her offer for the future and that didn't sit right with her. Tokens while seemingly props in the silly fancies of fairytales and the game of court life, had existed for centuries. Even if her view of the world of knights were jaded, her view on giving those willing to die something to remember and hope for hadn't been lost.
She had nothing to give however. She no longer carried delicately embroidered handkerchiefs, there were no delicate flowers or locks of hair to give. She doubted even if there were that someone with the gruff and unsentimental nature of Edd Tollett would have taken them.
All she could give were her words and her own hopes.
"I accepted death many times over the years. I begged for it, I yearend for it, I would lie awake after Joffrey or Ramsay would leave their marks on me and imagine all the ways the gods would finally put me out of the torture I was living," she said softly.
She turned to face the small featured friend of Jon's, almost friend of hers.
"But, I found something worth living for. I stopped imagining my death, and I started fantasizing of the life I would have when I survived. A life where no matter who or what tried to hurt me, I would be with those that I…care for," she continued.
The sounds of shouting grew louder as the men and women who would be fighting for Winterfell gathered below.
Edd watched her. Like always, he was quiet. She didn't have to wonder if he was actually listening, she could feel it with the weight of his stare alone. Not giving herself the chance to hesitate, she reached out and grabbed one of his hands. She kept her grip soft, as she looked up into his wide eyes with the raised brows above them.
"I am doing that now, imagining that life still when all this is done. Don't shatter the few fantasies I have left Edd Tollett. Survive this long night and be standing with all the rest that I care for like I am imagining there will be come morning," she finished, giving his gloved hand a soft squeeze.
With that, she let his hand fall from her grasp and headed to the stairs where she would descend to the crypts below where she would wait out this war and face whatever may come.
0.7
The living had won, life had won, but the North had not won. The bodies barely burnt, the missing still not accounted for, the injured still wailing in their beds, and the Dragon Queen thought it was the appropriate time to claim her throne?
Her life be damned. Let the damned Queen burn her with her dragons. Years ago she had said she would rather die with some piece of her left, and she still meant it. She would rather die with the Stark in her howling, with the Northerner in her screaming. The North never should have bent a knee and never should have promised their men to a woman who cared little for those who made up an army.
"The Northern men need time to recover. Give them that time," Sansa said, leaning over the war council table.
The eyes of all those present continued to watch her. She didn't care. She was braver then all of them combined. Kingslayer, hound, faceless sister, and all. None of them seemed to be willing to fight for their people, for their own bodies, for their own futures.
"They are not ready. They will die. Do you have no care for-" Sansa continued, the words spilling from her mouth.
"Enough, Sansa!" Jon interrupted her. His harsh words echoed through the room and down her spine.
Her own family. She wasn't even shocked.
"We made a vow. Without her none of us would have survived the long night. We promised her-" he began.
"You promised her," Sansa couldn't stop herself from saying.
For a moment the room was dead silent. She didn't dare look at anyone else in the room. Her eyes still on Jon and his oh so precious Queen.
"Are you saying that you aren't loyal to the rightful Queen of the seven kingdoms, Lady Sansa?" Daenerys finally spoke herself.
Sansa watched her trail her white sleeved hand across the war map on the table, taking slow deliberate steps around. Those in her path, her Unsullied leader and translator moved back.
"Lord Tyrion, please correct me if I am wrong, but is Lady Sansa's words not considered treason?" The blonde haired woman stopped beside her Hand, her eyes never leaving Sansa.
Before Sansa could even react, Arya was infront of her sword out with the Hound shoving his way between the two of them as well, blocking her view of the rest of the room. She stumbled back right into a softly placed hand on her back that held her upright. Looking behind her, she found Edd looking down at her with one hand on the pommel of his sword and the other one on the small of her back.
The sounds of swords being drawn drew Sansa's attention back to the situation at hand. Even with the looming body of the Hound blocking her view of the Dragon Queen she knew that her men had also drawn their swords.
"You dare to threaten your Queen?" Daenerys' voice carried even beyond the human shields that separated her and Sansa.
"You lay a hand on my sister, and -" she heard Arya begin in that low frightening voice of hers.
"Dany," for the first time since the Dragon Queen's threat did she hear Jon's voice as well.
"Your Grace, Lady Sansa is someone who cares deeply for the men under her care. A trait I am sure that you can understand. Lady Sansa…she has bled herself for the North. This is her home, I'm sure she didn't mean any disrespect. These are trying times for us all, and you heard Jon. He has every intention of keeping his vow to you," Sansa heard Tyrion ramble.
The beats of her heart were surprisingly slow and steady. She feared death like anyone else, but if Tyrion's placation fell on deaf ears then at least her end would come in the North where she had always belonged.
She had nearly forgotten the hand on her back until it pressed against her harder, as Edd shifted even closer to her.
"The Northern forces leave with us tomorrow. That is final," Daenerys' said.
Sansa lowered her head in shame of her own failure for her people, the sound of angry footsteps fading into the background.
"No more pretty words for you eh, little bird?" The Hound said, finally moving away from his spot in front of her revealing that the Dragon Queen and her surviving advisors had left the room. Only those surrounding her and Jon remained.
She felt Edd's hand leave her back, and his the warmth radiating form his disappeared as he moved quickly steps away from her. She frowned slightly, looking up again to where Jon stood.
"Sansa," Jon sighed, his hand coming up to rub his face.
For a second, Sansa felt guilty. She loved Jon fiercely. He was all she had for a while before the rest of their family had been reunited.
"She's dangerous," Arya stated.
"She's a cunt," The Hound added.
"She's your Queen," Jon snapped, looking behind him.
Sansa almost wanted to laugh. A Queen who he was looking for in fear of her overhearing. This was the ruler and monarch they were bound to forever thanks to his decisions?
"You want me to go back to pretty words Jon? I escaped Kings Landing, I escaped Ramsay for what? To continue to live in fear in my own home? To have to say my pretty words again and again just to survive, never speaking my true thoughts. Here Jon let me see if I remember them. 'My father was a traitor, my family is traitors, the North is not ours it is yours King Joffrey'. Oh wait," she trailed off, bitter and hate filled.
The stood in silence again. Jon refusing to meet her eye, Arya staring down at the flooring in thought, Edd looking up in his features tense inner conflict she could only assume, and the Hound staring down at her with eyes that glimmered with sorrow.
"She's not like Joffrey…" Jon said at last.
The Hound let out a bark of a laugh, and the sound nearly made Sansa flinch.
"You Starks never learn. They are all like Joffrey. Lannister or Targaryen, they all shit justice and mercy until they're the ones sitting on the throne wielding the swords," he spat.
"He's right," Edd agreed, stepping forward.
"I mean it when I said I would follow you anywhere, but…what are we fighting for? A vow? We ain't fighting for ourselves anymore. It's going to be fighting for someone that would have us killed where we stand if we don't say the right…pretty words she wants to hear," Edd explained.
Sansa nodded.
"You see it, Jon. You know what she is," Arya added.
"She's my Queen. She's the reason our home still stands," he argued, his hand fisted at his side.
"If she hadn't come to fight the dead, it would be her army next that the dead would be after. When will you see Jon? She is not just or good or all the other words she's been described as. She burned the family of your best friend alive, she watches your friends the Wildlings cheer for you the same way Joffrey used to look at me as something to punish, she threatens your family in front of you," Sansa kept her voice low.
She watched Jon's face harden with every word, watched the muscles in his jaw throb, his nostrils flair.
"Starks don't break promises. We promised her our army would fight for her claim, and we will not be breaking that oath," he said, looking at her with a hardened jaw but softened eyes.
Her whole body tensed at his words, anger shooting through every part of her being.
"Your Lord of Winterfell, the decision is yours. I'll start practicing my pretty words," she said, pulling her features into the trained smile she had mastered so many years ago in Kings Landing.
She was going to find Brienne and inform her that she would need double the guards from now on. The Dragon Queen would be leaving tomorrow, but that still left her plenty of time
0.8
"You don't have to go with him! He's not your Lord Commander anymore," Sansa said, her voice raising with each word.
"Aye. He's not. But he's my friend. One of the last ones I have. I promised him where he led, I would follow," Edd sighed, adjusting the sword at his side.
Sansa knew he was just trying to avoid her gaze as usual.
She bit down on her lip hard. She wanted to argue more, to urge him to lay his loyalty aside and not throw his life away for a Queen who should have no claim over them. But Jon was her family even when she disagreed with his decisions. If he was going to go fight with this Dragon Queen then he would need his most loyal friends by his side.
"You're a loyal man, Edd Tollett," she sighed.
"Your brother has a way of inspiring loyalty. All you Starks do," he told her.
Sansa foolishly felt blood rush to her cheeks. She didn't need a mirror to know that her face was stained pink in that moment.
"Are you?" She asked him.
"Am I what, Sansa?" He questioned, his eyebrows wrinkling above his eyes.
A part of her found it adorable. He seemed to hide his expressions so often but his eyes quite often gave it away.
"Are you loyal to me?" She clarified the question for him.
He looked down again, and Sansa forced herself to hold her head up high. She was the Lady of Winterfell. She was a survivor. A ruler. She above all people could handle asking a question of a man…a man she felt something for.
After what felt like centuries of silence, he looked up again. His eyes full of an emotion that would have swept her off her feet then and there.
"I would follow your brother to my death, but you? I'd follow you through life, Sansa," Edd said.
Her breath caught her in her throat. It was as if the world had turned on her again and again, leaving her feeling lost in what to say next.
"Th-Then just as before the long night, I am asking you Edd Tollett to survive whatever awaits you all in Kings Landing. Survive and return to the North. To me," she stuttered, wanting to say something anything before he would leave.
Her own directness shocked her, and she saw the muscle in his jaw twitch as the meaning of what she said hit him.
"Aye. I'll return Sansa. Not for your brother, not for the Dragon Queen, not for the damn cold of the North, but for you," he said, gripping the pommel of his sword again.
Sansa had spent her whole life being demure, being sweet, saying her pretty words, and remaining proper. Her curtsies, her manners, her chastity had always been perfect. There was no mother left to shake her head at her and no Septa to lecture her on the appropriateness of behavior for a lady. There was only herself and whatever she felt was right.
Closing the small space between them, she leaned over and pressed her lips against Edd's scruff covered cheek.
"May that vow be one that you keep," she said as she pulled away from him.
0.9
A crown is on her head, her brother is safe on the other side of The Wall away from the city where he had murdered his queen and his love, and Edd stood before her with his heart on his sleeve.
Her coronation is over but the celebration was continuing on in the other room still. The former Commander of the Night Watch had been following her with his eyes the whole evening, and she knew. She knew that when she snuck away and sequestered herself somewhere where the quiet could linger that he would follow and he would ask her for her hand.
Marriage doesn't frighten her nearly as much as it should. This would be her third after all. After a well meaning imp related to her father's murderers and a cruel monster of a man who had left her battered and scarred, what is another marriage?
There is something to be said however for the ability to choose this one. For the first time in all of her marriages, Sansa truly has a choice. If she were to choose to do so, she could say no and Edd would leave the room with no hesitation. Her voice was all the power she needed with him. There were no schemes to be made or pretty words to hide behind. He would accept whatever truth she told him the same way he had accepted her invitation to make the North his home.
Marriage does not frighten her, but the thought of never being her own again does.
"I've been a Lannister, I've been a Bolton, I will never be anything from a Stark from now on," Sansa said. Her voice soft.
"I've never cared much about names," he replied.
Sansa smiled. She felt the tears spill from her eyes over her cheeks.
Her father had promised her once that she would marry someone who was good and kind and just. She had carried those words with her her entire life, and now for the first time she let them go because they had been carried to the end of their journey.
"I certainly hope you don't care much for numbers either because you shall be my third," she laughed, coming towards him.
A queen does not hesitate, and she is a queen now. She smiled at him, feeling her cheeks dimple with the depth of her grin and the mere ferocity of her joy at the moment. The dimples remain firmly in place when his hand comes up and cups her cold cheek.
"Yes lass, but I know I'll be your last,"
Perhaps some of her childhood fantasies should not be completely forgotten she thought. Swoons had never felt more appropiate.
0.10
His watch had long ended, but there something final about this last breaking of his vow. He stared at the little creature, the red tufts of his hair sticking in every direction as he slept. His little son.
"Never thought you'd father something so beautiful, Edd," Sam laughed.
Edd grinned at his friend, thumping his arm against Sam's.
"Shut up you fat fuck," he muttered, keeping his voice down so Sansa wouldn't hear him from where she stood speaking with Gilly across the room.
He grinned all the same though. It was true. He was no pretty Jon Snow, but thankfully his child seemed to have already taken after their mother.
"Edd Tollett, Slayer of Walkers and Lover of Ladies," Sam grinned again.
"I'll put my kid down and chuck you right over one of these walls," Edd warned.
The two men laughed together now, and Edd was grateful that Sam had come all the way from Kings Landing. Jon was set to arrive within the upcoming days, and then the three of them would be reunited again. Three men of the Nights Watch, all vow breakers alike.
"We were shit at keeping our vows," he thought out loud.
"I think we did enough in the name of protecting the realms of men," Sam scoffed.
"Yes and now our watch has ended," Edd agreed with his old friend.
"Edd you fool, look at that child. Your watch has just begun," Sam laughed.
Author's Note
This ended up being more freeform vignette than it ended up being interconnected and well paced fic, but I hope that you enjoyed it none the less. This was far more out of my comfort zone than normal since I usually stick to the same few fandoms. Who knows? Perhaps if another idea sparks my interests then I will glady pick up my own version of a sword (my keyboard) and battle on with another story.
Sincerely,
Nosecretshere