December 23rd, 1916
Mother, please," Robb complained, "I can tie my own neck tie."
"Nonsense," Catelyn replied as she went for her son's collar again, "you are my son, and I rarely get the chance to inspect your wardrobe with you off at school."
"You'll have plenty of time for that when I finish school."
"we never known how much time we get, my dear," Catelyn sadly replied. Robb gave her hand a squeeze. She was thinking of his Aunt Lysa.
"Then by all means, dress me how you like," Robb said dramatically throwing his head back and his arms out. Catelyn chuckled softly at his antics, and Robb smiled triumphantly.
"There we go," Catelyn said straightening his tie, "now we much round up your siblings." Catelyn went in search of her other children. Robb went in search of his father. Ned Stark was in his study attempting to get some reading in before the party.
"Father Are you ready?" Robb asked him from the doorway of the study. Ned let go of a deep sigh.
"As ready as I will ever be," he replied. Robb smiled. His father hated high society functions like this. Parading his wealth was not something he was accustomed to. He did the bare minimum so as to keep relations good and whispered rumors at bay. He would be more than happy to be locked in a library with minimal provisions instead of attending a Lannister party overflowing with all the finest foods a person could possibly desire. Ned put the book on the desk and made his way towards the front door.
"Catelyn!" he called, "Arya, Sansa, Bran! It's time to go!"
"Nan has put Rickon to bed. Hopefully he stays there," Catelyn said as she came out into the foyer in a navy blue gown. She wore Sapphires and diamonds in her hair and around her neck. Ned couldn't tear his gaze away from her. He bowed as he kissed her hand, never letting his eyes stray from her.
"Stunning," he said. Catelyn smiled warmly. Robb couldn't help but smile as he witnessed the exchange.
'I still don't understand why appearances are so important to maintain," Arya complained. She was dressed in bold green, definitely at their mother's insistence she wear something colorful, Robb was sure of it. A black sash went around her waist. He guessed that had been Arya's addition to the dress. She didn't like standing out. She would find that to be difficult tonight in that dress. She was beautiful. He sighed. He already had one sister to worry about with Sansa. He really hoped he wouldn't have to worry too much about Arya.
"We want to stay on the good side of the Lannisters, Arya," Catelyn said for what Robb was sure was the millionth time since October. Bran came down the steps escorting his eldest sister. They looked a somber pair, Bran with his far off gaze contemplating the ills of the universe, and Sansa mentally preparing for battle. Her armor for the evening was in the form of a grey gown that shimmered in the dim light coming from the sconces on the wall. She is beautiful, Robb thought sadly. He would worry a lot tonight until she was safely home away from the hungry eyes of Joffrey Baratheon.
"lovely," Catelyn said, "both of you. I have such beautiful children." She smoothed Arya's hair, admiring her. She took a look at each of her children ending with Robb.
"They take after their mother," Ned answered, "Now let's go. Jon and Uncle Benjen are waiting for us outside."
"Jon?" Arya perked up.
"Yes, Jon," Ned replied, "now aren't you happy we are going to the Lannister Winter Ball?"
'I wouldn't say that," she stubbornly stated, "but Jon makes it better." Robb smiled. He agreed with Arya. Jon did make it better. He'd have an ally in Jon, and Jon would join him in the efforts of keeping Joffrey away from his sisters.
Sansa looked at the decorations, the gold ornaments and sparkling garlands spiraling up the columns of the house. She took a deep breath. She could endure this night. She was a Stark. Starks endured.
"Are you alright?" Robb asked her. She smiled tightly as she took her brother's arm.
"Of course," she replied as they followed their parents into the Lannister house, Arya and bran following behind. She hoped she looked more convincing than she felt.
There were evergreen wreaths and trees everywhere. Holly was adorning every archway. Lights glistened and tinsel dripped like icicles. Porcelain angels and ice sculptures adorned the tables that held foods of every kind on its surfaces of only the best quality. There was a ballroom full of dancing couples as the band played song after song. There was a time when Sansa wished every night held wonders such as these, but now she wanted to be home far away from the Lannister house. Even with all the blindingly bright baubles that surrounded her, she did not want to be in the lavish house. It wasn't home.
She found a place on the wall near the door, just in case she needed to escape. She tried her best to blend into the crowd. She didn't want to draw his attention, l but when she saw him coming towards her, she knew she'd failed in that effort. Dread filled her up the closer Joffrey came to standing in front of her. The closer he got, the more eyes in the room looked in her direction. He would enjoy asking her to dance in front of the room full of people, and she would have to accept to keep up appearances, and he would say cruel things with a smile and she'd have to bear it though all she would want to do is die right there. And he would enjoy it, all of it from his cruel taunts to the way he held her waist just a tad too tight. She was frozen in place. She wanted to move, but she'd forgotten how. She wanted to faint, anything to avoid him.
"Sansa, dear cousin," she heard Jon say hurriedly. In her fright she hadn't noticed he'd made his way to her side.
"May I have this dance?" he asked as he bowed and held out his hand.
"You may," she said with great relief taking his hand.
Jon did not like dancing. He usually stood uncomfortably in the room and stumbled through conversation until it was time to leave, but when he saw Joffrey walking towards Sansa, he knew he had to interfere. Robb tensed next to him, and Sansa looked rooted to the spot. He had to act. Before he knew what his body was doing, he was leading her onto the dance floor, her hand in his, her hand on her waist.
"You dance," Sansa said, hoping to break the tension.
"Not if I can help it, no," Jon replied stiffly focusing on the tempo and hoping to God he didn't miss a step.
"So you couldn't help it?" she asked amused. She was teasing him. It was strange. He wasn't as close to Sansa as the other Starks, and she'd never been so easy with him as she was now. He felt like it was an important moment and he should be paying special attention to every detail of the time they spent dancing in the Lannister house.
"You seemed…in distress," he cringed at his choice of words. Sansa smiled for the first time that evening. He was happy to be the cause. Since June, he didn't see her smile nearly as much as he wished. She used to give people smiles frequently. That all changed over the summer. He couldn't blame her for it, but he was glad to see a smile this evening.
"My knight in shining armor," she laughed with a sparkle in her eye. He chuckled.
"I don't know about shining armor. It would be covered in dirt and soot if I was in charge of keeping it. I'm dreadful at keeping things clean."
"You certainly cleaned up nicely tonight,' she answered, "perhaps it's a talent you had no idea you had." Jon tried not to think too much of the blush that was threatening to spread along hi cheeks.
"Perhaps," he said in a low voice, "I have the secret powers of cleanliness and perfect timing." He looked at her like he was telling her a secret and she couldn't help but giggle a bit. It surprised her, but it was a pleasant surprise.
"Thank you," she said, "truly, Jon. I was in distress as you put it. Thank you for coming to my aid."
"Of course," Jon replied. He looked about the room. People were watching them intently, some were whispering. He hoped the drama they were telling didn't reflect badly on Sansa. He didn't care much for his reputation, but her he wanted to maintain. He wasn't born into this life; she was.
"You may want to stick close to Arya or Robb after this dance. It would be improper for us to dance two dances in a row. There are fewer male partners. It would be considered rude." He added to answer her look of confusion. She didn't completely buy his story. Jon had never been concerned with partner rations in the past. She could not remember a time he went out of his way to even out the numbers on the dance floor. Then again, she could not remember a time she felt so at ease and happy with Jon as the culprit. Perhaps it was an evening of firsts for both of them.
"It's quite a shame. I enjoy dancing with you." She was surprised to find she meant what she said. Jon was a decent dancer, and she felt safe with him.
"And I you," Jon replied, surprised to find his words true. She was a patient partner, and he had accomplished making her smile and laugh in one dance. He felt more confident with every step they took.
"You do?" she teased, "the man who avoids dancing like the plague?"
"Dancing with the most beautiful girl in the room is a privilege. Even fools like me know that." He didn't mean to say that, but he had. He said it in earnest, too, and now it was there floating in the air they were sharing, waiting to be inhaled by one or both of them. He felt the blood creep up to his face.
"I'm beautiful?" Sansa asked quietly. She almost missed a step.
"Stunning," Jon replied looking at her intently. He marveled at his boldness. He was grateful when the dance ended, but also disappointed. Grateful because the things he was telling Sansa were things he should keep to himself. Disappointed because he'd finally found dancing enjoyable, and the end of the dance meant relinquishing his preferred partner who made dancing so enjoyable. As the music came to an end he escorted her off the dance floor.
"Thank you for the privilege," Jon said as he bowed and kissed her hand. She dipped her head in acknowledgement.
"Hopefully we will dance again," she replied.
'Hopefully," he repeated with a smile. No sooner had Jon disappeared into the crowd than her friend Margery Tyrell and Myrcella rushed to her side.
"Your cousin, Jon, danced!" Margery exclaimed, "He never dances!"
"He does," Sansa retorted, "just not often."
"And he's so handsome," Myrcella sighed.
"He is," Sansa agreed quietly,
"He's dancing with Arya, now. Oh, your cousin must have powers if he was able to get your sister to dance," Margery teased.
"Cleanliness and perfect timing," she said with a small laugh.
"What?" Margery asked her, perplexed.
"Never mind," Sansa said, composing herself.
"Oh, if only I had the privilege of dancing with him," Myrcella gushed.
Myrcella's wish came true that night. She was practically speechless when he asked her to dance. Sansa understood it was his way of making sure he kept up appearances. He danced with a few of the other girls that night including Margery, thought he looked practically miserable and a little frightened at times in the evening, especially when he thought he might forget the steps. Sansa felt such gratitude towards him. He went so out of his way to help her. She hadn't given Jon enough credit. He was truly a gentleman.
She made sure to stay with Arya throughout the party, and she saw how Robb always made sure to be able to see Joffrey as the night went on. Between Robb, Arya, and Jon, Sansa was safe and protected with no chance of ambush. She did not need their protection, but she was grateful that they came to assist her.
It was soon time for all of them to leave. They each thanked their hosts graciously and made their ways home. In the morning they'd be off to Winterfell. After leaving Ned and his family, Benjen and Jon continued home.
"I saw what you did for your cousin tonight," Benjen said to Jon, "that was very gallant of you."
"it was the right thing to do, sir," he stammered, "you and father always taught me to do the right thing." Benjen let go of a small smile.
"You are a good man, Jon. Plus, your dancing wasn't bad either." Jon smiled.
"I had a good partner," he replied.