Sansa bids Jon farewell.
18. The Three Queens - Sansa
Queen in the North. Sansa still couldn't believe it. None of the lords and ladies had risen from their chairs and chanted like they did for Jon, but they had all agreed with Lord Baelish after he suggested it. Littlefinger. She knew he had his fingers on this, she was no fool. And yet… I could be a good queen.
The time she spent in King's Landing had taught her much. Cersei Lannister was a terrible queen, more worried about herself than the people she ruled. She could still remember the woman's drunken rambles when Stannis Baratheon was attacking the capital.
And Margaery Tyrell had been the complete opposite. She used to walk among the people and give food to the hungry. She sang to the children and they laughed with her. They loved their queen. Sansa sometimes wondered if it had all been an act. If the woman was just too smart and that had been the best way she found to play the Game. It didn't matter. Whether true or false, her actions had brought happiness to the people when they needed it most.
And now the North needs me too.
"Your Grace?" Jon's voice caught her by surprise. She had been watching the hustle and bustle of the courtyard. There were several horses being saddled for the long journey to White Harbor. Lord Manderly had insisted on accompanying Jon to his lands, so most of the soldiers he had brought were going back home with him. Her eyes had wandered towards the South Gate and what lay beyond.
"Jon…" She began, a little annoyed at his formal tone. "Don't call me that." She turned to face him. He was already wearing the white cloak she had recently sewn him, looking like a skinnier version of Ghost. "We're family. Never forget that. You'll call me sister." She smirked and rose her eyebrows. "Unless you want me to call you Aegon?"
He gave her a rare smile. "No, I've gotten used to Jon." He frowned and scratched his beard. "Though, I'm not sure what my aunt would prefer." He said, thoughtfully.
She considered. "I don't know how fast news travels south. However, based on what happened here, I believe you should be honest. Then let her decide." Sansa hoped the rumors she had heard about the dragon queen were exaggerated. I can't afford to lose him too. "Do you have the letter?"
He patted his right hand against his heart. "Yes, sister." He said, patiently. She had written a letter granting him permission to act as her representative in any negotiations with Daenerys Targaryen. It's merely a formality, of course. Everyone knew they were related, even if he was no longer the son of Eddard Stark.
"Just remember: we can't afford to send any soldiers south. And we need her dragonglass. Anything else you're free to decide." She trusted him enough for that.
He nodded. "And I need to convince her that bedtime stories are real." He sighed, putting a hand on his forehead. "Wait!" He slapped his own head. "I forgot!"
"What?" She asked, confused.
He turned on her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Remember when we were talking about my orders to man the castles of the Night's Watch?" She nodded, vaguely recalling the conversation. He continued, "Well, I was supposed to ask Tormund to capture a wight so I could show everyone the threat." Now I remember. So many things had happened after that, she wasn't surprised he forgot.
"Don't worry about that, Jon." She waved his hands away. "I'll make the arrangements." It was a good idea. They wouldn't be able to convince everyone with words alone. I only believed it because I trust him.
He breathed a sigh of relief. "I can't believe I forgot about something so important."
She put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "It's understandable. Lord Reed arrived shortly after that conversation, if I recall. Let's just say you had… other things to worry about."
"That's true." He nodded and caught sight of Lady Lyanna Mormont walking by. "In fact, now that you've mentioned that, excuse me for a moment." And he walked quickly to meet the young lady. Sansa followed discreetly, just to stay within earshot.
"Lady Lyanna!" He called her. "Do you mind a word?" The girl smiled and nodded, walking towards him.
"Your G-" She stopped herself, frowning. "Uh, what should I call you now?"
He smiled back. "Jon is fine." He unbuckled his sword belt and unfastened Longclaw from it. "This sword was given to me by Lord Commander Jeor Mormont. Your uncle. He said I had earned it, but it never felt right to keep another family's ancestral blade to myself." He breathed deeply. "I was going to wait until the war was over, though now that I have Dark Sister." He nodded at the smaller blade still in the sword belt. "I won't be defenseless." He presented the bastard sword with both hands. "Here. Longclaw belongs to your family."
Lady Mormont's eyes widened, her mouth hanging open. It took a few moments for her to regain her composure. "This is…" She reached for it, and put a hand over the scabbard. "Thank you, Jon. But I can't accept it right now." She said, pushing the sword back towards him. "I've always been more of a bow girl myself, and my cousins preferred axes. I fear that sword wouldn't see much use in our hands."
Jon looked confused. "So… You're not taking it?"
"Not yet." The girl quickly replied, shaking her head. "I can't say no to such a valuable gift. I just think you'll make better use of it during the war." Then she narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger towards him. "However, I do expect you to return it to me in due time. Until then, make sure you don't lose it."
He nodded in understanding. "Aye. I'll keep it then." Jon reached for the sword belt and began tying the sword back. "I promise I'll return your sword after the Night King dies, my lady."
"Lyanna is fine." She waved a hand. "As I've said before, I'm not a lady."
"Lyanna…" Jon's voice grew quiet.
"Do you know much about her?" Lady Mormont asked, tentatively. "My own mother thought very highly of the She-Wolf of Winterfell." Well, that's obvious, Sansa thought, considering her name. She knew some lords were known to curry favor by naming their children after their liege lord or their family, but the Mormonts were different.
He shook his head. "Lord Reed has been telling me a few stories, but my fath-" He coughed. "Lord Stark never talked about her." He paused for a moment, scratching his beard. "I suppose it was too painful for him."
"It would be." Lord Howland Reed said, walking slowly towards the two. "Ned loved his sister very much."
Sansa took his appearance as an excuse to finally join the conversation. "Lord Reed." She called, moving closer. "I'm glad you'll be staying at Winterfell. I was afraid you'd go with Jon."
Jon waved a hand. "Ser Davos will be joining me." Then he turned to Lord Reed. "But I would've enjoyed your company, my lord. You've taught me much in our short time together." He glanced at Ghost, sitting silently near the South Gate. The wolf's ears perked up, noticing them, his red eyes staring. Jon made a gesture and Ghost moved to join them.
"Are you taking him south too?" Sansa asked, hoping the answer was no. She had grown used to his company, as a reminder of her own direwolf. Ghost's fur wasn't as smooth as her Lady's had been, but she loved to brush him. When he let her. He's a wild one.
"That's up to him." Jon looked from her to Ghost, bending over to face him. "Well, boy? Do you want to go with me, or will stay here with her?"
The direwolf licked his nose, then moved to stand beside her. Smiling, she put a hand over his head, feeling the warmth of his messy fur. Thank you for not leaving me alone.
"Traitor." Jon said, but his face broke into a grin. "I suppose that settles that." He turned to Lord Howland. "Are you sure you're not coming?"
The man smiled. "I must admit I was tempted. The opportunity to see a dragon up close comes but once in a lifetime." Then he closed his eyes. "Yet I must wait for my daughter. She should arrive imminently."
Sansa turned to Jon. "Couldn't you wait a bit longer?" She pleaded. "We haven't seen Bran in ages!" And Arya… Would they ever be all in the same place again?
"Sorry." Jon shook his head and raised his hands in a defensive stance. "After what happened, I need some time away." He gave a weak smile. "Don't worry, though. I'll come back. I promise."
"He has to." Lady Mormont offered. "He has my family's sword." Someone called her, and the young lady turned back. "Excuse me, my lords. My queen." And she left.
Sansa waited until she was out of earshot, then she touched Jon's arm. "She likes you."
He nodded. "Yeah, I like her too." Ugh, he can be so dense sometimes.
She shook her head. "No, Jon." Sansa stared at him to make sure he understood her next words. "She likes you."
His eyes widened. "Oh." He stood there with his mouth hanging open for a while, before Lord Reed coughed.
"Well, I think I should also move on." He put a hand on Jon's shoulder. "Safe travels, lad. Never forget who you are." With that, he left. Sansa watched as the man hobbled away. He's probably going to the godswood again.
"That's why she let me keep the sword..." Jon mumbled. He seemed to be thinking out loud.
She laughed. "It's a harmless crush. Don't worry too much about it. At her age, I used to think I loved Joffrey." Sansa felt more than a little ashamed of her younger self.
He relaxed a bit. "Gods, that's true. You were horrible back then. Arya and I would often..." He hesitated when he looked at her face. "Uh, never mind that."
"The point is that I'm not that person anymore." She defended herself. What was he about to say? "I'm sure Lady Mormont will find someone closer to her own age eventually."
"Your Grace!" Ser Davos Seaworth came walking from the South Gate. Sansa noticed he was referring to Jon, and not herself. It will take time, she knew.
"Sansa's the queen now, Davos." Jon said, waving a hand at her direction. "I'm just a…" He frowned. "Well, I don't know what I am now."
"You're a prince, Jon. The Prince of Winterfell." Sansa supplied. "And until we hear from Bran and Arya, you're my heir."
Jon barked a laugh. "Good luck convincing everyone else."
Ser Davos looked from one to the other before saying, "Forgive me, my queen, but we're ready to leave now." His eyes drifted towards the Gate. "Lord Manderly seemed rather impatient."
"Let him wait." She would always remember the lords who had turned against Jon. They will find me a less forgiving ruler. "Jon, come here." She opened her arms wide and he joined her in a hug. She held on tight, remembering that time they had reunited at Castle Black. I was alone for so long, then I found him. Her eyes started to sting and she closed them, leaning into the white fur on his shoulder. "I'll miss you, brother."
And we're off! Jon finally leaves Winterfell. I have to admit this took way longer than I had originally planned, but the story simply flowed that way. You can't just skip these things. Next up: White Harbor.
Fair warning: I have about 6 extra chapters already written, but I'll take a break this week. The end of Game of Thrones is a huge event, one that requires time to process. Let's hope we can get some sweet in this bitterness.
The date is 19/05/2019 (finale, ahoy!)