SANSA
The great hall was filled with lords from all over the north, and now that the last of the lords had arrived, they could begin handing out sentences over those that had declared for Ramsay Snow.
She was very nervous if she had to be honest, it wasn't that she thought that Jon would let Ramsay and his lackies walk out of Winterfell. She just didn't want to be anywhere near the monster.
She glanced at Jon who was sitting beside her, in his now customary black and red northern leathers, with the crown of Aegon the conqueror nestled among the dark curls of his hair.
He looked every inch of a king, sitting there with that crown on his head and with that stern look in his face.
The two other kings she had known had always been decked out in jewelry and gold and had more perfume on their person than a cheap prostitute. But Jon had no perfume and the only thing that could be called jewelry was the crown on his head.
His clothes were finely made, but that was only because Sansa herself and Satin made sure that Jon didn't know where his old night´s watch leathers were located, otherwise he would be strutting around in them. Sansa had asked Satin to make them disappear into one of the fires that had burned after the battle for Winterfell, and Jon´s steward had happily complied with her wishes.
Satin would go with Jon south, to squire for him before battle. Not that Jon really needed a squire, as he liked to do everything he could for himself and as much Sansa would have liked to have Satin here, helping her with Winterfell, as he had come an indispensable part of the household they were establishing, she wanted someone with Jon that she knew they could trust.
And Satin had been with Jon since the battle for the wall, and Jon had told her that he had fought bravely. So, she was sure that Satin would do his very best and protect Jon if it came to it.
Another person that was also quickly coming indispensable was her great uncle Brynden, who was also marching with Jon south.
But there was something that weighted heavily on her mind, and that was Jon´s lack of king´s guard. While Ghost and the dragons were doing a good job keeping him safe, he needed more protection.
She heard Jon knock an empty cup on the table to get the lords to be quiet. "Lady Karstark, lord Umber." Jon called, and the two youngsters walked nervously forward.
Ned Umber was tall for his age of eleven-years old with brown hair that was common in the north. But it was plain for all to see that he was very nervous about the proceedings. Alys Karstark had the brown hair and grey eyes of the Starks like most of her family and Sansa couldn't help but to be reminded a little of Arya, as she watched the girl.
Both of them knelt and said their words of fealty, and as they stood up again, Jon spoke. "Lord Umber, Lady Karstark, you are hereby accepted into the king´s peace."
Jon had talked to Ned Umber and Alys Karstark when they arrived in Winterfell and told them that they would not be punished for the crimes of their family members, but if they wanted to continue to rule their ancestral lands they would be expected to declare for Jon and marry people of his choosing.
They had been very quick to accept.
Jon gestured them to take their seats, then he spoke again. "Thanks to lord Manderly´s hard work and Ser Davos, we have taken Dragonstone and Ser Davos has already started mining for dragonglass." This statement was met with cheers from all over the room.
They would soon be making weapons of the material and they could then send it north to the wall, to arm the men of the night´s watch.
When she had heard that news from lord Manderly when he arrived, she had felt such relief that it rivaled the emotion that she had felt when she had seen both Littlefinger and Joffrey die.
"My lords," Jon spoke again. "Tomorrow night, lady Sansa and I will say our vows in front of the Weirwood and become husband and wife. It is our hope that you will all be there to witness our marriage before the old gods."
Sansa was sure that the roof would be blown of the great hall by the way the lords were cheering.
For the first time in a long time, she was actually looking forward to a wedding. She glanced at her future husband, and she could see that he was smiling slightly and there was a happy twinkle in his eyes.
Jon didn't usually smile in front of the lords, and such a small smile on Jon´s face was like a full-blown grin on any other man.
Sansa loved watching him smile, it was a rare sight and it always made her so happy, seeing him happy.
But she dragged herself out of her thoughts, she couldn't be distracted now, they had work to do. "Thank you, my lords, and ladies, but there are a few things that we would like to discuss with you before we adjourn today." Sansa said with a smile on her face.
All the people in the hall looked to her and waited for her to continue. "As you all know, the next few years will most likely be hard for the north, as we have been in war in the Riverlands, and now the long night approaches."
She stared at the grim faces before her before she continued. "I would like to urge those lords who can to build glasshouses to do so, as we need all the food we can get."
Sansa knew that not all the northern houses could afford the glasshouses, but she had a plan. "If you cannot afford them yourselves, please let us know. We may be able to figure something out; the survival of our people is the most important thing to house Stark and our king." The lords nodded in approval of her words.
But Sansa wasn't done. "The north has many resources that we can use, and we have to stand together now if we are to survive the long night."
Her words seemed to resonate with the lords as they were looking happy that She and Jon were trying to look out for them and their people.
Then Jon spoke again. "Thank you, lady Sansa," Jon sent her a smile, which made her cheeks start to get hotter. "We also have opportunities in the East, in Essos there is a shortage of wood, which we have in abundance and can sell to help to pay for the glasshouses if we need." Jon stated as he leaned a little forward on his elbows.
This news seemed to make the lords excided, this would go a long way for them to pay for the glasshouses that they so desperately needed.
"Now," Jon spoke again, turning very serious. "It is time to bring in the prisoners." As soon he had spoken those words, the guards escorted them in, Smalljon Umber, lord Ryswell and his three sons, Roger, Rickard and Roose. Lord Ryswell´s sons were all the very image of their father, tall but stocky and very small ears and there was that fowl look on their faces, like they smelled something rotting. But there was fear in their eyes as well, a fear of what was to come.
Sansa glanced at Jon, when he had told her that he didn't want Ramsay in the great hall to attend the sentencing, she had been surprised, but relieved.
"My lords," Jon´s deep voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "After some deliberation, lady Stark and I have decided to give you a choice, execution or the wall."
The hall was quiet as the prisoners stared at Jon. Then Smalljon stepped forward with resignation clear in his eyes and spoke. "I choose the Wall." As the large man said those words, lord Ryswell bristled with anger.
"Coward." He shouted and the spittle flew out of his mouth. "Your father wouldn't flinch at some Targaryen pretender´s sword, I doubt that this bastard even had the guts to swing the sword himself."
The Smalljon´s face turned red with anger at the older man´s words and he lurched forward to try to defend his own honor, but he was held back by Jon´s men and Stark men. The lords in the hall were all clearly angry at the insult that was being thrown their king´s way.
"Enough." Jon demanded sharply. "Smalljon Umber is many things, but a coward is not one of them." He was right, Sansa had seen Smalljon in the battle for Winterfell, and it had taken the threat of Viserion, flying overhead and roaring, and threating to burn him, to stop him from charging.
Jon turned to his guards. "Get Smalljon Umber ready to leave for the wall. He leaves tomorrow along with those that prefer the watch over the sword."
Now every eye turned to lord Ryswell´s sons, Sansa could see that they were trying to be brave, but the choice before them was obvious, while life at the wall was a hard one, at least it was a life.
The three sons of lord Ryswell decided on taking the black with Smalljon Umber, but the older man wanted the sword.
While Smalljon and the sons of lord Ryswell were escorted back to the dungeons, lord Ryswell was dragged outside, and again the lords of the north and the lords of the Vale hurried after their king, to watch him deliver justice.
A block had already been placed in the courtyard, but it didn't take her long to figure out why. Ramsay Snow stood bound and gagged in the middle of the courtyard flanked by Targaryen men. It was clear that Jon didn't intend to drag this out more than they needed.
As they watched Jon take lord Ryswell´s head, Sansa grabbed Rickon´s shoulders, both for his comfort and her own. She schooled her face into the mask that she had perfected when she had been in king´s landing, but the anger and fear was bubbling in her belly.
She watched as lord Ryswell´s body was dragged away; Ramsay was put in his stead and his gag was removed.
When Jon asked him for his last words, Sansa couldn't hear what he was saying for some reason, it was like the world had turned it´s sound of, and the only thing she could hear was strange buzzing, like the flies in the capitol on hot day.
As she watched the bastard of Bolton, she could feel the bile rise in her throat and she had to forcefully keep her breakfast down.
Whatever the bastard had to say, it was making Jon very angry, she could see the cold anger in his eyes, on his otherwise stoic face.
Jon raised Longclaw and the dark blade severed Ramsay´s head from his shoulders seemingly without any resistance.
As soon as Ramsay´s head fell to the ground, the sound came back and it was like the whole world was made anew.
For some reason the sun was shining brighter, and the sky was clearer, and the air was sweeter. She watched as Jon´s men dragged the lifeless body away to be burned. She could hardly believe that it was over. She could suddenly feel the exhaustion seep into her bones and all Sansa wanted to do was to curl up in front of the fire with a book and a mug of ale.
After they had reclaimed Winterfell, she had started to prefer northern ale to wine, for some reason it spoke of more happier times, as wine was the only thing that was served at the southern feasts that she had been forced to attend when she had been a hostage in the capitol.
Jon walked over to them. "Are you two alright?" His eyes where alight with worry for both Sansa and her little brother. She nodded and sent Jon a tired smile, she felt Shireen approach her and the young girl also sent her a concerned look, but tactfully said nothing.
Jon looked at her for a moment, then he turned his attention to Rickon. "Hey, why don't you and I go to the godswood and I will show you how to properly clean a valyrian steel sword?"
Sansa smiled at her little brother, as he smiled excitedly at Jon, clearly happy with getting to spend more time with him.
As she watched them walk away, Sansa decided to go to her solar and have that mug of ale that she had been dreaming of. She grabbed Shireen´s hand and dragged her to her solar, much to the girl's amusement.
Lyta, her maid servant, that had followed her from the keep of the first Flints, handed her a mug of ale as Sansa sat herself down in front of the fire, Sansa had invited Brienne to sit with them, which she gratefully accepted.
The fire was roaring in the hearth as they sat together in the warm solar.
"So," Brienne began. "Are you nervous for tomorrow?" The knight asked as she sipped on her summer wine. Brienne hadn't acquired the taste of northern ale yet. Shireen also sent her a curious look, as she savored the small mug that had been filled with watered down ale.
Sansa smiled into her mug. "Yes," she admitted. "But its good nervousness." She didn't know how to describe the feeling that was taking over her very being.
Her other two marriages had been filled with dread and fear, but for the first time since she was a little girl, she wasn't afraid to face her wedding day.
"Have you finished the dress?" Brienne asked her as she nursed her cup of wine. It was clear to Sansa that her friend was trying to distract her from today's executions, and Sansa loved her friend all the more for it.
"Yes, I finished this morning." Sansa replied with a grin, her dress was stark white with blue winter roses all over the skirt and bodice. Sansa had found an old maiden cloak in one of the towers that had been untouched in the sack of Winterfell, which she would be using.
"What about the bride cloak?" Brienne asked with a frown, it had been the thing that had cause most concern, as it was usually made by a female member of the groom's family. But Sansa had found someone to make it.
She smiled at her friend. "Shireen made it for us, she finished just before the meeting began." Shireen turned very shy at that, she had been worried that she wouldn't do a good enough job, but Shireen had proved herself wrong, and Sansa had thought her work, excellent.
The three of them talked for some time about the wedding, before they heard a knock on the door.
Sansa called for whoever was knocking to enter, and in walked Jon. He had removed the crown of Aegon, and he was looking disheveled but very happy for some reason. Rickon had followed him into the room, looking just as happy.
"Jon, what is it?" Sansa placed her mug on the table as she stood up. But Jon didn't answer, instead he walked over to her and hugged her close to his body.
After a few moments he took a step back but kept his arms around her. "We got a letter from Castle Black; Bran is alive, and he is on his way home." He was smiling widely and there were tears of happiness threating to fall.
Sansa could hardly believe what he was saying. Her little brother was alive and coming home, one more Stark would soon be back where they belonged.
JON
He had never been this nervous before in his life. Ever since he had found out what a bastard meant, he had sworn of children and marriage, as he had thought that he couldn't give a woman good name, but now here he was, getting ready for his wedding.
And not to just any woman, no, he was getting married to Sansa Stark. one of the most beautiful women in Westeros.
He adjusted the collar of the ink black jerkin that had the three headed dragon of house Targaryen roaring proudly on his breast, that Satin had helped him into, and he could feel his hands shake with nervousness.
"Here, drink this." Satin handed him a mug of ale with a grin. "Just don't drink it too fast, you don't want it to go to your head."
Jon accepted the mug with shaking hands and took a small sip. Normally he enjoyed the taste of ale, but today it was bland and tasteless on his tongue.
He glanced outside the window and watched as the sun was setting behind the tall trees that made up the wolfswood.
He could see Rhaegal, Viserion and the smaller dragons fly over the forest, and playing happily in the sky. They looked so beautiful and graceful soaring in the orange, pink and purple light of the setting sun.
Jon would be taking Rhaegal and Viserion with him south, but he would be leaving Sycorax, Umbriel, Oberon and Charon here with his family, to guard them.
Jon had no doubt in his mind that they would do their very best to protect Sansa, Rickon and Shireen, as they always took Jon´s orders to heart and did as he asked of them. They had proved themselves much better behaved, than Rhaegal and his brothers when they had been the same age. He had tried to leave Viserion here as well, but Sansa had absolutely refused. Not because she didn't want Viserion in Winterfell, but she wanted him with Jon to protect him.
He had tried to tell her that Ghost and Rhaegal would be enough to protect him, but she had argued that since he didn't have a king´s guard, he would need all the protection he could get, as he was the king, he would need to be protected.
Jon smiled at the memory of them in Sansa´s solar, arguing about who needed more protection. He would miss those moments when he went south. He would miss her.
But Jon would miss them all, in fact he already missed them, and he was still in Winterfell. He could feel the dread in his belly as the day he would leave the north for the first time in his life.
Had Robb felt this when he had left Winterfell? Most likely, but Jon just hoped that he would be able to return, unlike his cousin, who he would always think of as a brother no matter who he called father.
"Hey," Satin pushed his shoulder gently. "Don't look so grim, you are getting married to one of the most beautiful ladies in Westeros, not getting sentenced to death."
Jon smiled a little at his friend. He had intended to respond, but there was a knock on the door. Satin rushed to answer it. Jon´s steward showed the person that had knocked into the room.
The person turned out to be Howland Reed, he was holding the black and red bridal cloak in his arms, that Shireen had worked hard to make. The older man smiled at Jon. When Jon had told the lord of Greywater watch that his daughter was alive and well, and on her way to Winterfell, the man had wept with joy.
"How are you feeling?" The smaller man asked Jon.
Jon was still nursing his almost untouched mug of ale. "I am nervous, I guess." He stared into the mug as if it held all of life´s secrets.
Howland took a seat beside him. "Aye, I know how that is, when I married my Jyana, I couldn't stop throwing up."
That statement made Jon look up in surprise at the lord of Greywater watch. Jon couldn't imagine him nervous or frightened, Howland Reed always looked so calm and collected that it was hard for Jon to imagine him nervous for his wedding.
The older man smiled at him. "Don't worry you will be fine." That didn't serve to calm him at all, but the sentiment was appreciated.
"But I have it." The man said as he pulled a box for under the black and red cloak and placed it on the table. Jon took the box and opened it; it was just like he had wanted. He smiled at the object inside, it was beautiful, and he hoped Sansa would like it.
Satin came up to them. "It is time." Jon looked at his friend and stood up. Jon took a deep breath to try to calm himself down, but it didn't seem to work. Jon placed the mug on the table by the small wooden box as Satin handed Jon the crown of Aegon the dragon, and Jon placed the crown on his head.
Jon glanced at the box and opened his mouth to speak, but Satin interrupted him. "Don't worry, I won't forget." Jon nodded as the young man just smiled at him.
They left the room and made their way into the godswood. The lords of the north and attending Valelords had all gathered in the large godswood of Winterfell. They were a sporting their best attire and Jon could see that they clearly were looking forward to the feast tonight.
The air was still, and the moon had risen and was shining brightly on the snow-covered ground, and the dying light of the sun was almost gone. The only sound was that of the lords speaking quietly to one another, and the distant beating of dragon wings.
Jon took his place in front of the Weirwood tree as he waited for Sansa to arrive with Rickon. He could spot Shireen standing beside Ser Brienne, Ser Brynden Tully and Ser Devan Seaworth, she sent him an encouraging smile, and he tried to return it, but he was sure that it made him look like he was trying to throw up in nervousness.
Jon glanced at the Hearttree and stared into the crying face, and as he looked into its eyes, he could feel like something was watching him.
He was brought out of his thoughts by a few gasps, and he turned and looked to see what had caused them.
It was like the wind was knocked out of his lungs as he stared at Sansa walking up to him, on Rickon´s arm.
She was dressed in a lovely white dress with winter roses sown into the skirt and bodice and her hair had been pulled in a bun at the nape of her neck, that had a few of her fiery red locks escaping and curling around her face.
She was smiling brightly as she and Rickon made their way to the Hearttree, and the moonlight was making her skin look luminescent, and Jon was sure that there wasn't a more beautiful being alive, than Sansa Stark.
As they approached him, he couldn't help but to wonder why his cheeks were suddenly hurting so much. He didn't have a long time to wonder about the pain, as Howland jabbed him with his elbow and then the lord of Greywater watch sent him a look.
Oh, right. He thought to himself as he felt his cheeks redden. "Who comes before the old gods this night?" He tried to keep his voice steady, but he had been so enchanted by Sansa that all other thought had fled his mind, even the thought that he was supposed to ask the first question.
They had decided to forgo the usual conductor of the ceremony and have Jon himself ask the first question, as they didn't want to be seen playing favorites.
Rickon tried to look as serious as he possible could, but it was undercut by his large, happy smile. "Sansa, of house Stark, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and…" Rickon suddenly frowned and looked to his sister, he had clearly forgotten what was next.
But Sansa smile and whispered the answer to him. Rickon´s eyes lit up as he continued. "And noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who claims her?"
"Jon, of house Targaryen, King of the seven kingdoms. Who gives her?" Jon replied and waited for Rickon to continue.
"Rickon of house Stark, the lord of Winterfell, and Sansa´s brother." Rickon turned to his sister.
"Sansa do you take this man?" Sansa smiled, clearly trying to hold in her laugh as Rickon forgot to call her a lady, in his rush to get this over with.
"I take this man." She said with a smile, and Jon took her hand and they both knelt before the Weirwood tree.
"Jon," Sansa whispered so no one else could hear. "Stop smiling, you are supposed to be praying." He could hear the amusement in her voice, but what on earth was she talking about? He wasn't smiling. Then it hit him, the pain in his cheeks was because of how widely he was smiling. He tried to stop, but for some reason he couldn't.
"I can't." He whispered back, and he could see that she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
They stood back up, and Jon removed her maiden cloak. He was still grinning like an idiot as he placed the black and red cloak of house Targaryen over her shoulders. Then the nervousness returned as he leaned closer and placed a small, delicate kiss on her lips, to seal their union. Jon could feel his lips tingle at the short contact and his heart started to race so fast that he thought that it would burst out of his chest. As they separated, they were both blushing, but all Jon wanted to do was to lean down again and place another kiss on her lips.
But he knew he couldn't do that, as they had to make their way to the feast, and he was sure that Sansa wouldn't appreciate him kissing her again in front of all the lords.
So, he contented himself with sweeping her into his arms and the lords gave a cheer as Jon swept her up and carried her to the great hall for the feast.
The feast that was held to celebrate their wedding was truly a northern one. The ale flowed freely, and all the shouting and cheering was enough to make any person deaf.
Halfway through the feast, Sansa dragged Jon into the dancefloor. She had been doing her best to teach him when they had time to practice, but Jon feared that he was a lost cause.
"You are still smiling." She stated with a laugh, and Jon felt his face start to get warm again.
"I think that a man is allowed to smile at his wedding." He said and then he added with a fake thoughtful look. "In fact, that think that it is a requirement."
"Is it?" She asked with a sparkle in her blue eyes. "I don't think that I have ever seen you smile like that."
"I had a good reason to smile like that today." He stated and now it was Sansa´s turn to go deep red in the face.
They danced together for some time, before they returned to the high table again, and by now it was getting a little late. But Jon wanted to do one more thing before they retired for the night.
Jon stood up from his chair and addressed the people in the room. "My lords and ladies, thank you all for being here today, helping my new queen and I celebrate our wedding." when he called Sansa, his queen it made all the people start cheering again.
"But before the night is over," He now turned to Sansa and spoke to her. "there is something I want to give you." As Jon gestured for Satin to hand him the small wooden box.
"As you all know," Jon took the box from Satin´s hands and placed it on the table in front of him. "The kings of Winter had crowns made of bronze and iron."
Jon could see that every soul in the great hall was now staring at him in curiosity, and they would be curious as Jon had really played this close to the vest. There were only three people that knew that Jon had this planed, Satin, Howland Reed and Jon himself.
"I thought it was fitting that our new queen have her own crown of bronze and iron." He could see the excited looks on the lords of the north, they were clearly happy that Jon was trying to honor the traditions of the north.
He could also see the surprised look on Sansa´s face, as she clearly hadn't expected a crown of her own. Jon opened the box and took the crown that was still covered with a cloth in the colors of house Stark.
Jon felt the nervousness start to bubble in his belly again, he hoped with all his heart that Sansa would like it.
Jon took the cloth that covered the crown and placed it on the table, as soon as he revealed the crown he was giving his new wife, he heard gasps from all over the hall and some people had stood up to take a better look at what Jon was holding in his hands.
The crown was a lot like the one he had on his brow, but instead of valyrian steel, the circlet was made of beaten bronze with runes of the Firstmen decorating it´s surface, and instead of square cut rubies, there were snarling direwolfs.
Jon had really wanted to have the crown decorated with winter roses made in blue, but he felt that it was too soon, and he didn't want to take the risk of offending the lords of the north. Even though they now knew that Rhaegar had given Lyanna the crown of winter roses for her bravery at the tourney, he felt that, him the son of Rhaegar, giving a Stark girl a crown of winter roses may hit a sore spot of some of the lords.
So, he decided to have direwolf instead, to honor the house his queen was from. A large part of him, thought that it was a better match anyway. Sansa wasn't a delicate flower anymore, that needed to be guarded. She was now a fierce direwolf and he wanted her crown to reflect that.
Sansa was smiling brightly at him, he approached her slowly and gently placed the crown in her head. As soon as the crown touched her head, the cheering began anew in the great hall of the Starks.