Sansa woke the morning of her wedding feeling better than she'd felt in weeks.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she did not wake to nausea nor vomiting. In fact, she woke feeling well rested and craving the sweet, yet crisp taste of a red apple. Sending the first handmaiden through her door off to the kitchens for said apples, Sansa rose up from the bed as a second pair came in, lugging between them the copper tub for her bath. Seating herself at her vanity, it was then that she caught the sight of Alys hanging in the doorway, looking nervous and unsure of what to do. She had only come to live at the palace two days before and from what the others said, she'd cried herself to sleep both nights. "Alys, come here," Sansa called out to the girl, offering her an encouraging smile as the child approached. "Would you brush my hair?" The girl's eyes widened and she hesitantly reached out to take the brush from the Northern queen's hands.

Though she was new and but a child, Alys was beginning to understand court life, and she knew it was an honor to be asked to brush the queen's hair. Coming to stand behind her, Alys began the long, but gentle process of brushing out Sansa's hair, careful to untangle each and every knot so it would be that much easier to wash. By the time she had finished, the other maids had finished filling the tub and so Sansa rose up from the vanity to stand beside the tub. Alys watched as one of the older girls stripped the queen from her nightgown and then she was slipping into the tub, sloshing water over the sides as she climbed inside.

While she soaked in the hot water scented with roses, Sansa broke her fast with the apples that the maid had brought to her from the kitchens, feeling happy rather than nervous as she had thought she'd feel on this day. Another of the maidens was at her side then, ready to wash her hair, a process which would take some time and so Sansa settled back, fully prepared to relax until it was time for her to get out.

By the time the water had begun to grow cool, she was finished. And so a maid brought to her a warm sheet as she climbed out of the tub, wrapping her body in it the moment her feet touched down on the ground. Another smaller sheet was brought for her hair, which was wrapped up in it as well, all to begin the long process of drying her waist length locks. A hand maiden was there then, unwrapping the sheet from around her, and instead helping her into a clean nightgown, which she would remain in until it came time to dress for the wedding.

Across the room, laid out across her bed was the dress she'd wear for the wedding; it was a lovely dress of gold and white, its squared neckline embroidered with pearls. As she took a seat back at her vanity, Sansa reached for the small silver box she kept there, opening it as she looked for something inside it. Finding it with a smile, she removed from the box a pendant on a long chain, the very same one that Jon had given to her the day of her arrival in Westeros. Clasping it around her neck, she allowed the direwolf pendant to hang low, where it'd be safely tucked against her breast, hidden from view but still close to her heart. A reminder of her roots as a Stark, a reminder of who she would always be.

"Your grace, its time."

The hand maiden's voice broke into her thoughts and Sansa turned, realizing then just what the woman meant. More than an hour had passed and it was time to get dressed. Her hair was dry and styled and she'd been draped in jewels and pearls alike; now, all that was left to do was get dressed in that beautiful gown. Giving a little nod, she rose up, coming to stand at the center of her chamber, where three maidens had gathered around her.

When she was finally dressed, all of the maidens in the room stood back to stare at her, their faces full of dreamy smiles as they took in the sight of her. "You look beautiful, my lady." One of them piped up, her eyes full of tears as she looked upon the young queen. In truth, there'd never been a queen they adored as much as they adored this one, and they were all overjoyed that she would be remaining at court as their own queen. At once, several other voices were chiming in, praising her looks and glow as she stood there in her wedding attire. Sansa could not help but to blush and thank them, turning towards the door as it opened and in came a steward with a package in his hands.

"Your grace," he bowed as he extended his hands for her to take the package, which she did, arching her brow in a silent question. "From the King, your grace," he explained before he backed out of the room, closing the door behind himself. From Jon? Just what could he have sent her? Sitting herself down on the edge of her bed, Sansa unwrapped the package, unable to stop herself from gasping as she laid her eyes upon the item inside. From inside, she pulled a beautiful crown that sparkled with gems, its intricate design a true masterpiece. Beneath the crown was a single piece of parchment and so she reached back inside to pull it from the box as well. Unfolding the parchment, she felt tears welling up in her eyes as she read Jon's handwriting scrawled across its surface.

Sansa,

Long before I asked you to marry me, I had this made for you. I knew someday you would be my queen and there was no crown I saw fit for your beautiful hair. I have hope that this one will do your loveliness justice.

I love you, my queen, more than anything else in this whole world.

Jon

Folding the piece of parchment back up, she held it close to her chest for a moment, before she slipped it beneath her pillow. And then, she rose up from the bed and turned to the seven handmaidens still inside the room with her, their smiling faces all staring back at her. "Shall we go?" She asked them and her head lady, Lyanna, smiled back at her and nodded.

It was time to get married.

[ x x x ]

Jon had never been more nervous in all of his life.

Fighting to the death in battle? Easy. Dealing with treachery and betrayal? No worries. Swearing his own coronation oath? Not a problem. But this... His own wedding? He couldn't say what left him feeling so nervous, but nervous he was and he could only hope that nobody could tell. Beside him Tyrion was offering him an encouraging smile, the little man looking splendid in his grand clothing. "Nervous, my lord?" Tyrion asked with a chuckle, shaking his head all the same. "You've fought to the death in battle after battle, but a few wedding vows have you shaking in your boots?" Jon shot him a dark look and Tyrion could not help but to give another chuckle. "Never fear, it will all be over soon. And then she can join you in your marriage bed." He winked and Jon felt himself relax a little, his own lips parting with a small laugh.

Then suddenly, the doors were opening and there she stood, like a dream in all white and gold, her smile radiant as the sun. Jon stepped down from the dais, walking down the aisle towards where she stood in the doorway with a cluster of ladies behind her dressed in their very best. He had never seen her more beautiful in truth, so beautiful that it stole the very breath from his lungs. The court had gone silent as they watched their king approach the future queen, as they watched him offer her his elbow and then together they made their way back towards the dais.

And just like that, they were married.

Immediately following the wedding ceremony came her own coronation, where upon her head was placed the crown of state, replacing the one Jon had given to her for only that moment. But when the vows had been spoken and the crowds had cheered her name, she returned his crown to her head, knowing it would always be the one she wore from that moment on. Jon had taken her by the arm and led her from their joint thrones, through the crowd of courtiers, and into the empty hall, where for the first time in what felt like days, they had a moment alone.

"Wife," Jon grinned as he pulled her into his embrace, knocking her new crown askew in his haste to take her into his arms. Sansa was laughing as she reached up her hands to steady her crown, the weight of it still yet strange to her. "I knew it would suit you," he went on as his hands moved upwards to cup her face into his palms. "You are beautiful." He hardly dared to even begin to believe that this moment was real, that she was truly his queen, his wife. And more than that... She was to be the mother of his child. Jon slid his hands down the length of her body, coming to a rest upon her stomach, which to his delight had begun to curve. Her hands fell into place over his and they met eyes, her smile as radiant as the summer sun. "I love you," he leaned in to brush his lips across hers a moment before the double doors opened behind them.

"Your court awaits, your grace." Tyrion said with a smirk as he approached the newly crowned queen, offering her a bow. His eyes strayed to the tangle of hands upon the young woman's abdomen, but he did not speak on it, instead he turned to lead the pair back into the center of the court, where the monarchs would share a first dance before them all. And then it would be time for a feast to rival all feasts before it- Tyrion had made certain of that.

Taking her by the hand, Jon led her out into the center of court, where all eyes had fallen upon them. The music began and they fell into a light step, Sansa graceful as ever as she twirled out and back close to him, her eyes bright as they met his. Despite the room full of people, it felt as if they were alone out there, so lost in one another were they. Jon swore to himself that he would never let her go and as the dance came to an end, his arm slid protectively around her waist. Together then they headed towards the great hall, where a feast of all feasts had been prepared. The room was bright with lavish decorations in white and gold, so beautiful that it took her breath away. "It's lovely," she whispered as Jon led her up to the dais, to the head table where they would sit above the rest of the court, with only a few others at their sides.

"Aye, it is," Jon replied as he pulled her chair out, not letting go of her hand until she was seated completely. Then he sat down beside her and for the first time, they would eat together as husband and wife, as king and queen. And nothing had ever felt better than that.

[ x x x ]

If the court was shocked when their newly crowned queen showed herself with a growing belly less than a month into the marriage, they did not speak of it. At least aloud. Sansa supposed the maids would whisper, the courtiers would gossip, but she could breathe easy knowing there would be no slander. In fact, the people around her seemed overjoyed at the prospect of an heir being born so soon- they called it a blessing. So, she felt no shame when she appeared before them all with her pregnancy on display for all to see, there was no hiding it now, even if she wanted to.

On this particular day, Sansa was more tired than usual and so she had laid in bed much later than she normally would have. Jon had not come to her rooms the night before, busy he was with some trade complications with another nation, and honestly it was enjoyable to be alone for just a night. When she finally did rise from her bed, it was little Alys who greeted her with a wash bin of rose scented water for her to wash her face with, and it was little Alys who had laid out her gown for the day. Though the girl still seemed shy and reserved, it was nice to see her with a smile as she greeted her that morning. It certainly seemed like she was getting along well and her head lady kept her constantly informed of how the child was doing with her duties. And in truth, it was little Alys who Sansa enjoyed having beside her at all times.

"Will you brush my hair today, Alys?" Sansa asked with a smile as she stood up from the bed, one hand cupped lightly around her swollen abdomen. "I prefer your hands, you know." The child blushed to the roots of her hair and smiled, though she looked down at the floor when she did. She nodded, stepping aside to allow Sansa to pass her by, and came to stand behind her when she'd seated herself at the vanity. "Now, tell me how your week has gone."

This had become their usual ritual- any morning that Alys was there, Sansa inquired after her, enjoying the questions and comments the young girl had. She was a bright girl, that Alys was, and when she could overcome her shyness she was an absolute delight. "I made a friend," she admitted as she lifted the brush, beginning the gentle strokes she used to brush her queen's hair. "He works in the stables." Ah, that was right, Sansa recalled hearing Jon say he'd brought on a young man of about thirteen to work the stables, another poverty stricken lad from town.

"Is that so? Do tell me about him." Sansa smiled into the mirror, catching Alys' quick, but timid smile in the reflection. And just like that, the girl was talking; every little detail she could think of was coming from her mouth, her enthusiasm bringing a chuckle from Sansa's lips. "You must introduce me later." Sansa said, her words bringing another smile to Alys' face. The other maidens were entering the room then, her head lady's singsong greeting causing Sansa to laugh. "Good morning ladies." She replied before looking at Alys in the mirror once again. "Shall you style my hair this morning?" She questioned the girl, who's mouth dropped open in surprise at being asked such a thing. "I trust you, Alys," Sansa spoke soft, encouraging words, and finally the child gave a little nod before her hands set to work.

When Sansa had dressed for the day (in a silk gown of the pale green that had already been let out to accommodate her growing belly), her hair was twisted into an elaborate knot, her hair piece a simple, yet elegant golden brooch stamped with pearls. "I knew you could do it well, your small hands are quite nimble." Sansa complimented the child as she bid her goodbye for the time. "Today you shall introduce me to your new friend, alright?" Alys gave an eager little nod before sweeping her queen a curtsy, something her mother had taught her from an early age. "Come ladies, shall we go?" She and the others made their way down to the main court, where they would break their fasts with all the others, for today was the day the King and his men were to go to hunt. Though she knew Jon cared little for the spectacle behind it all, she knew he did it with enthusiasm to please the court. They lived for such things and it reminded them of the good times before Joffrey and Cersei. And so, Jon went back to many of the old ways, at little mind to his own feelings.

When she arrived in the main hall, it was already full of various courtiers, mostly men prepared to go out for the day with their King. "Your grace," Sansa paused, turning to find Tyrion at her side, an arm extended for her to take. With a smile, she took his arm and waved off her ladies, allowing for them to find their seats among their families before such an event. "You are looking lovelier than ever, I must say. A new gown?" Sansa chuckled as they approached the dais, where Jon had already found his place at the head table, his eyes at once seeking hers. "My lord, your wife is looking ravishing this morning, is she not?" Jon smirked and reached a hand out towards Sansa as she came around to sit upon the chair beside him, adjusting her gown as she went.

"Aye, Tyrion, that she is. Pregnancy suits you, my love." He leaned his head in, nuzzling her neck, his lips hovering at her ear. "I have missed your bed these last few nights, wife." Sansa's face did not betray the heat creeping into her neck and face, instead she swiveled her head to look at him, a smile toying with her lips. "Say I may join you tonight."

"You could have joined me any one of the last few nights," she said with a wag of her finger, turning back to the table that had become laden with food courtesy of the kitchen staff. "I am pregnant, not contagious." Tyrion choked on his sip of wine, but spoke not after catching a quick glance from the queen, who's blue eyes were smoldering though her lips were still yet smiling. "You may join me, but for the love of God, bathe first." Tyrion laughed outright at that and then the royal couple were laughing too, so loudly that the court had all turned to see what was so funny.

When breakfast had ended, Sansa bid Jon and his court goodbye, the kiss from Jon warm as always, but as he walked away, something cold settled into the pit of her stomach. Putting a hand against the curve of her belly, she swallowed down the feeling of dread and turned to her ladies, forcing a smile and talking in what sounded like a false voice, even to her. "Come ladies, let us find something to do to amuse ourselves while the men of court find pleasure in the hunt." Though she tried to reassure herself, she could not keep the cold, sinking feeling at bay. A feeling that told her things were about to change.

[ x x x ]

"Murdered?"

Sansa heard Jon's voice echoing the words that had just been spoken to them there in the throne room. Tyrion looked grim, his dark eyes rising to meet his monarch's as he gave a single nod. "I'm afraid so." The man replied, casting his eyes to her for a moment before returning to Jon. "And it seems your brother Bran has vanished into the night." Sansa felt her heart skip a beat and she tightened her grip on the arms of her throne. The murdered party they spoke of was the man she'd left in charge to look after Bran and Winterfell, an old but loyal man of the North.

"Then I must go." Sansa spoke up before either man could speak, blue eyes darting from Tyrion to Jon, her heart beating fast within her chest. The North was left without protection if there was no Stark in Winterfell. It was her duty as queen to return to them, to seek the truth behind Lord Darnley's murder and her brother's disappearance. "I will summon Arya and we shall return to Winterfell at once."

Jon supposed he couldn't be surprised by her words, but he was all the same. "Sansa, you cannot travel in your condition." He spoke as she turned to face him, her blue eyes piercing in her pale white face. Her hand instinctively curled around her growing belly, but the determination did not falter in her gaze. "You must think of your own health, you must think of the babe..."

"There must always be a Stark at Winterfell," Sansa repeated the old words of her father, of her mother, of all the Stark's that came before them. "I am not so far along that I cannot travel, besides... I am queen, you crowned me yourself. It is my duty." She turned her eyes instead onto Tyrion, who bowed beneath her gaze. "You will arrange it, will you not my lord?" The little man looked from his queen to his king, the latter heaving a sigh, knowing there was little sense in trying to argue with her after all. Jon gave a single nod and then Tyrion himself was nodding his assent to her question. "I shall leave as soon as it can be arranged, then." Tyrion was then dismissed, off to do as he was bid by his queen.

"I shall go with you." Jon spoke the moment he'd gone, catching Sansa's attention once more. His queen turned with wide eyes, arching a brow with her silent question. Jon then grinned, reaching out his hand to fondly tug on a lock of her red hair. "You didn't honestly think I'd let you go alone, did you?" Sansa could not help but to smile at his words and she shook her head. "Come, let us begin the arrangements." Rising to his feet, he offered her his hand, and then together they made their way from the throne room and into the side hall, where they were already met with his head steward, who had spoken to Tyrion only moments ago. "Begin packing for a trip to the North," Jon confirmed with the older man, who nodded and bowed, springing into action at once. Turning back to Sansa, he cupped her face into his palms, offering her a smile. "We shall get to the bottom of this, my love. And we shall find Bran, I promise you that."

Fear flickered through her, but she nodded, accepting his words as truth because that was what was easiest. She could only hope that he was right and that Bran would be safe, wherever he was. He'd lived through worse, she supposed in the years leading up to now, so she had to believe that he was well. Something told her she would feel in within her own heart if he was truly in danger. "I will find Arya," she spoke quietly and Jon nodded, releasing her only after he pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. Then they parted, he down the main hall towards their chambers, she down the other towards Arya's rooms, where she would find her sister.

And then they would return home.