authorsnote: a new chapter just after christmas? here we go!
I do hope you enjoy, these chapters are requiring A LOT more research now their in pentos (where my knowledge is not as good!), so please be patient with me, but please do enjoy!
songrecs: exception - renforshort (highly recommend her EP, off saint dominique)
Pentos was many things, large, hot, bustling with activity, and most of all dusty.
Her hood not only covered her distinctive hair but also her mouth, as the dust kicked up by sandals, as somehow sand from the nearby desert persisted across the streets, as people hurried past, knocking into her shoulder, talking loudly, and thankfully not paying her any mind, it was a lot.
And perfect to hide in.
They got a few looks, for Ghost at their feet, but few people got close enough to bother them, Jon's attire was uncommon but not unheard of, the Nights Watch recruiters often stopping by Pentos, and with her hood up and her dress her least ornate she was mostly ignored. Anyone who weren't put off by that only need to see Jon's hand gripping his sword, and they were well left alone.
They had made their way to a marketplace, one of the dockhands directing them. Here they planned to grab supplies, and then enquire about housing. Apparently, several of the market sellers rented out property, and that was their best bet to find somewhere to sleep tonight.
It was a tad overwhelming, people speaking in unknown languages, the hot sun unlike anything she'd known, even King's Landing, the many types of people, wearing different clothes, with different hairstyles and tongues, it was all so different.
Different was both good and bad in her books. Good as it ensured they wouldn't be bothered, and could hide easily in plain sight, blending in as just different themselves. Bad because it meant they were a touch out of their depth.
But Sansa tried not to let her sense of being a complete fish out of water stop her, she knew they needed to find housing, get food, and settle in for the night, from there they could make a plan, decide what to do next, for now, they just needed to sort out the basics.
And yet, she felt utterly useless in doing so.
God was she thankful for Jon, as he approached a seller, brought them both huge rolls filled with orange curd and cheese, though Jon grimaced at the taste and she grinned at the sweetness, he then leaned in to talk to the market hand who pointed further down to a larger stall, with a man behind it selling spices and fruits.
She had no skills in this, in surviving this way. Yes, she'd survived other horrors, horrors few others could, but they didn't prepare her for living in a new land, figuring things out, everything her entire life had always been figured out for her.
Live here, do this, say this, wear that, be quiet, shut your mouth, pray, smile, nod, curtsey, be sweet, be kind, be smart, don't be stupid.
She'd always been told what to do, how to do, she'd never had to figure things out for herself, even after escaping, that had been her one moment of her autonomy before she'd ran to Jon. She had never gotten herself out of things alone, bar once, and her inexperience was showing.
But then, wasn't that the way of all girls in Westeros? They were ruled by their husbands, or Fathers, benevolent as they may be or not, they were still subjects, not equals. She had never learned to hunt, fish, haggle, or bargain because she'd been taught how to sew, sing, smile and charm. She'd never been taught how to survive because no one had seen any need for it.
Neither had she before…
But now she realised that needed to become a priority, she couldn't keep doing this, stumbling around like a child, relying on Jon. Of course, she didn't want to leave Jon, not now, not ever, but she needed to be a bit more self-reliant.
Emotionally she'd gotten there, she had, to rely only on herself, now the rest of her needed to catch up.
"Here" Jon said, breaking her from her thoughts as she followed close by him, trying to keep her posture straight. In King's Landing she'd hunched a lot, to avoid people looking, to hide her eyes, to slink away, but Jon had told her on the ship that a straight back showed a 'quiet confidence', and people were far less likely to mess with those showing that. The hood hid her face well enough, but she shouldn't look like an easy target.
'How did you learn that?' Sansa had asked, in awe of the man he'd become, smiling as they huddled close on the cabin floor, the seas too choppy to sit on the bed.
'You don't want to know' Jon had said with a rough smile, before holding her closer, an arm around her shoulder as the ship surged on.
And so, she tried, but it was a hard habit to break.
As she followed Jon she made the effort to follow his advice, and the smile he offered her had her smiling, as they approached the stall the man who'd sold the rolls had directed them to.
"Westerosi?" Jon asked, there was no mistaking his accent, and the seller nodded.
"We're looking for housing" The seller put a hand to his ear, Jon's accent was thick to Southerners, never mind foreigners.
"Housing" Sansa piped up, and the seller nodded, she managed a smile, useful, that was what she wanted to be, it was what she needed to be.
"How do you pay?" The seller asked.
"Silver Stags" Sansa offered again, and the seller nodded, Westerosi currency was good.
"Short or long term?" He threw back, and Sansa realised they were negotiating, she straightened her spine, and forced away her nerves.
"A few weeks to start" She said, repeating herself once when he asked, and then he offered another nod.
"Three places" The seller said holding up three fingers, his tone frank and business like, his words a touch stilted, he wasn't fluent, but good enough, "A small room with bathroom, outside privy, 20 silver stags a month, a small house 60 silver stags a month, has one bedroom, one bathroom, kitchen, privy room" She nodded then, pausing him, that sounded perfect.
"In a good area?" The seller offered a smile and bowed his head in a nod.
"Safe, clean, the City guards patrol once a day" That sounded similar to the nicer areas of Kings Landing, and so with a glance at Jon, who offered a nod (and she noted was smiling), she turned back to the seller.
However, she paused, a little of the South coming back to her then, and she smiled as she spoke.
"40 silver stags a month" She threw back, she remembered something she'd overheard Tyrion say.
'Any idiot can take the first deal offered, a person with a brain knows there's more to be offered'
"55" The seller threw back, and she knew then she'd made the right choice, this was the way it was done.
"45" She threw back immediately; speed was part of the game.
"48" The seller grinned then and Sansa shook her head, near rolling her eyes, they both knew where they met.
"We meet in the middle" She said, "Middle" She repeated, "50"
A pause, and then a nod, and Sansa had to stop herself from grinning like an idiot. Instead, she stuck out her hand, "Deal?"
"Deal" The seller affirmed, they shook then, a tradition that eclipsed continents, and she felt a deep pride that she was the one to shake, to negotiate the price down, to hand over the money for 1 month at first, which they could extend or not if needed.
The "Nicely done" Jon offered with a smile, as they took the crude map and the directions the seller had given them in hand, only made her heart warm further, pride surging in her chest.
She had done that, she had found them a house, had negotiated the price and time, got the price down even, and had done it all without needing to rely on Jon, she had done it herself.
It was a little silly to be so excited over, but she didn't care, she felt the pride, that she could do things alone, she could survive, and she refused to squash it.
Instead, as she and Jon followed the directions to the edge of the market, she stopped and they filled their bag up with supplies, including a lemon cake they ate on the way (well, she ate hers, Jon took one bite, wrinkled his nose and handed it to her, which she happily ate, not wanting to waste anything after all), as they approached the little row of houses, where theirs stood, the house Sansa had found them, and she'd rarely been prouder of herself than she was now.
The house was nice.
It was simple, a little stone house, the colour bleached, and sand washed, standing on the edge of a little neat row of houses with a flat roof, a box of flowers in the window and a little sign on the door that said something she didn't understand.
It was a good find, reasonably priced, in a nicer part of town, not quite the nicest areas but certainly not the worst. Sansa didn't know much about Pentos, almost nothing in fact, but she knew what a nice area looked like, and she knew they were in it.
And so, when they walked fully into the house, and Jon opened it up, hand on sword still, she smiled a touch, it was a good space, a wide-open room, with chaises, and one bookcase (empty), and one small table and chairs. She could see the door to a bedroom, an indoor privy, a bathroom, and a kitchen, it was an okay size, a little small, a little sparse, but clean and safe.
As Jon smiled at her after looking around, she nodded and managed a small smile too, yet it wasn't fully there, not with how she felt, her head all jumbled.
The pride from the market had worn off slightly as they walked, as the reality of what securing a house meant to her settling in a little too deeply.
It wasn't that she felt bad, it was just what she didn't feel that was getting to her, with the pride gone, the happiness, there was an absence, a big one.
She'd expected to feel more relieved.
She had been, for a time. The lightness on her shoulders and weight off her chest when they'd stepped off the boat onto foreign soil had been welcome, and she'd split a grin so wide her cheeks had hurt. It had been relief, for a time, but only for a time, then she'd started to worry.
But then they'd gone to the nearest market, and she had laughed as she and Jon grabbed lunch, the sweet-filled buns not to Jon's taste, the same with the lemon cakes that had made her laugh. She had grinned and Jon had smiled, and it had been good for a time.
But then they'd had to navigate without speaking the language, had stumbled through conversation after conversation to find their way to the seller for this house, though the haggling had gone well, she'd still felt a touch on edge. Jon had kept a hand on his sword and Ghost had gotten them more than one look. Sansa had kept her hood tucked in, had avoided the eyes of some leering men that Jon had glared at, and she had never felt more out of place.
Even in Kings Landing, where she had been nothing more than a pretty bird in a gilded cage, she hadn't felt this out of place.
This wasn't her home, Jon's neither, and yet where else could they go?
Jon looked even more out of place than she did. Scowling at anyone looking at them, dressed all in black, still wearing his long billowing cloak even as the heat beat down on them, Ghost at his side, with red eyes and teeth bared. Jon looked like a fish out of water, he was meant for snow and ice, not sun and sand.
And yet there was still some relief, relief born out of being away from Westeros, away from the Lannister's and their influence. Pentos was removed from that, safer.
And that's why as they stepped over the threshold into the house Sansa internally scolded herself a touch. Yes, she felt like she was dancing on the wrong foot, in a strange land where she didn't know the language, customs or anyone else, but it was far better than Kings Landing, far better than stumbling around Westeros, always terrified of being found. That was what she had to remember.
And yet even as she followed Jon inside, as Ghost, silent as always padded in behind them, she still felt that pang in her stomach.
She'd been at the Wall less than a week and she'd felt more at home than she had in years in the South. She missed the cold, the heat in Pentos reminded her too much of the Capitol. She missed home, she missed the North, she missed Winterfell, she missed it so much it made her heart ache.
Any good feelings about the house had vanished. Yes, she'd secured them it, and there was pride in that, but she didn't want to live here, this wasn't home.
The North was home, Winterfell was home, all the way across the sea … that was home.
"Sansa?" Jon pulled her from her thoughts then, and she tried a brave smile as she looked around the main room, it was bare and empty, but clean if sparse. "Are you alright?"
She nodded, feeling ashamed, childish, here she was in a safe, clean house and she was crying about missing home. She was a grown woman, acting like an infant! Shame stung her stomach, and yet the heartache didn't budge, wouldn't budge.
Jon saw right through her though, even as she tried for a valiant smile. He'd worked her out so quickly, he was perceptive, extremely so, which whilst good, unsettled her a touch, to not be able to hide like she once had behind her courtesies.
Her wall of ice was gone…
"I know" Jon said with a kind smile. His smiles for her were always kind, comforting, and she felt herself crumple a little under it.
"I feel so stupid" She spluttered; tears close now. She tried to remain tough, to be like steel, but she felt her hands shaking, her lip trembling, and knew she was too far gone.
"Don't" Jon admonished with a shake of his head "Homesickness is like any sickness, normal and understandable, and it will pass in a sense, I promise" He said with a small shrug that was so sincere it almost sent her over the edge.
"Have you been homesick before?" She asked quietly. Yes, she had missed home after the shine of Kings Landing with an ache that had burned but it hadn't been like this, the sadness, the fear she'd never return home again, this felt different, somehow worse.
Jon nodded though, and his words made her feel a touch better, "When I went to the Wall" He said with a nod and a sad smile, "I was homesick for days, wanted to run back"
"Did you?" Sansa whispered, knowing they couldn't, they couldn't go home, maybe not ever again. She'd thought this exile could be temporary, but now they were here, in this clean but sparse house, that was so different to home, in so many ways, she thought it might be permanent.
The North was crawling with Ironmen, Lannister's, or Bolton's, for now it was lost.
For now, but perhaps forever.
"Once" Jon admitted, wrenching her from her thoughts, and she raised an eyebrow as he spoke, as he dug about in one of their bags, taking out two water skins, handing one to her, "Drink some, it's hot here, dry, you'll need to drink more"
She nodded, remembering Kings Landing then, with a shudder, she remembered how the air had been different, the heat demanding more, making her sleepier, thirstier, more uncomfortable. She felt that pang again, homesickness, she longed for the North.
One look at Jon and she knew he did too.
Jon nodded his head then, to sit next to him on the chaise, one of the few pieces of furniture, the house had come as 'furnished' but it was bare, she just hoped the room had a bed.
As she walked to it, Jon placed a bowl on the floor, filled it to the brim for water with Ghost who lapped happily at their feet, a little uncomfortable in the heat but content, thirst soon sated, where he then snuggled up at their feet, standing guard in a sense.
Sansa sat down then, almost following Ghost's lead, it was comfortable, and at a look from Jon she managed a smile and took a deep drink before he launched into his story.
Ten minutes later, with Jon's story about trying to go South to help Robb, and then the story of Sam coming to the Watch, of his first shift atop the Wall, his first ranging, Sansa felt more at ease.
Somehow, they'd got out some berries, and Sansa had finished her water and was now sipping from Jon's waterskin, eating a few berries as he told more stories. Jon had never been a talker, and he spoke short, the details gruff, but it was enough to put her at ease, to sit close to him, her hand finding his, to feel more comfortable, her longing for home still present but eased.
She knew she'd long for home until she returned, she just hoped one day she would, and she hoped it wasn't too far away.
sooo thoughts?
more action next chapter I promise! but my poor bby sansa 3 she's struggling a touch, but she'll soon have no time to worry, let's just say things won't be smooth sailing in pentos for long!
I do hope you enjoyed, if you did do please leave a review!
speak soon