Chapter 14: A love that lasts

Jon couldn't deny he loved Sansa's laughter, he loved every kind of laugh for every occasion. He loved her surprise laugh, especially while eating or drinking, he loved her sarcastic laugh… the one that told him he or whomever was speaking was being an arse, he loved her soft laugh when she was trying to convince him she was okay, the kind that she used when she would wake from a bad dream… one he assumed held her former husband and torturer. He loved the sound of her musical laughter when she was having a good time and felt free, but he loved most of all the laugh she shared only with him… the intimate laugh of when his gentle kisses or embraces tickled her. Like now as he bent down to kiss the soft bulge of her tummy, his short beard tickling her delicate soft skin.

"Jon," she giggled grasping at his curls. He looked up from her stomach to see her glowing face.

"Marry me," he said softly, returning to her face to kiss her.

"Jon?" Sansa sounded surprised, a small shocked laugh that said she didn't believe him.

"Sansa Stark, I want you as my wife," Jon kissed her cheek, "I do not jest, I not tease, I do not lie…"

"But how would that work?" Sansa scooted herself into a sitting position. Jon sat up in front of her taking her hands. Her red hair free and wild around her, a mess from all the love they had been making the last couple days hidden in their room at Kingslanding. Danny had taken Cersei's room as Sansa wanted nothing to do with it, so they took Robert's room since he never really wanted to share a room with his wife. Sansa smiled thinking about Jon's comment as they looked at the room, 'if only Robert had had a woman like you…' how could someone so amazing think so highly of a spoiled damaged girl?

"Think about it, since finding out about my birth the nobles have had a hard time trusting that I won't side with my aunt and become the next mad king, since rumors have spread about a wolf and dragon baby they have been chanting praise that a Stark will rule the North as intended. What if we legitimately marry and I really do take your name?" Jon kissed the knuckles of her white hands before looking at her, "no one could have foreseen that we would feel the way we do about one another, considering we grew up together but never truly together… yet the perfect marriage match between a Targaryen and a Stark? I think it would bring the North together more than we ever imagined. You are already carrying my babies after all…"

"I spose," Sansa said looking up at him wondering how she was blind to how handsome he was, she could never be close to him because she wanted her mother's approval so badly and he was a bastard and monster to her mother. She couldn't help but think a few more years there and she would have fallen in love with him regardless. She smiled wide before bending forward to kiss him, "you are right…"

"Aye? I am?" Jon pretended to act surprised that his fiery Northern woman was actually agreeing with him.

"I don't want to just make love, I want to make love last…" Sansa wrapped her arms around him.

"But there will still be love making right?" Jon asked pretending to be nervous.

"How could anyone resist the King in the north?" Sansa pulled him closer wrapping her legs around him and laying a long kiss on his lips, she loved how soft they were as if they were molded perfectly for her.

"In that case…"

"Jon!" Sansa hit him in the arm, as he teased her, "Swear it…"

"Swear what?" Jon smiled down at her.

"That you're mine," Sansa eyed him carefully, "I don't want a marriage like the Baratheon's… I want an epic love, the kind that will live on in the moon and the stars."

"Like your mother and fathers?" Jon asked catching Sansa off guard, she hadn't thought about it.

"Better, like your mother and fathers," Sansa smiled at him knowing that he wondered often about them, "he died for her, and she died bringing you to me…"

"Sansa," Jon's voice was low and full of surprise as he pulled her in close, holding her, his nose buried in her red hair. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, "I swear to be yours and only yours, as you are mine and only mine."

"I swear it," she said her face buried in his neck. Had all her suffering and pain been the price to pay to be here in this moment with Jon. Was that her way of shedding the skin of a spoiled child and becoming a woman worthy of Jon, Jon Targaryen. Jon Stark? No, Snow, Jon Snow, "I don't think you should change your name…"

"What?" Jon asked confused pulling back and looking at her.

"Jon Snow, that's who you are…"

"That's a Bastards name," Jon was confused why she would say that…

"That 'Bastards' name has more power in it than anything, the men of the north follow Jon Snow, I fell in love with Jon Snow, a part of me knew it the moment I saw you at Castle Black. I thought 'There's a man worth following, there's a man worth loving…' and you've been nothing but that," Sansa touched his face gently, "my only regret was my mother never seeing this…"

"You amaze me," he said smiling at her, "I thought I'd never deserve love because I was a Snow… and now you say that's why you love me."

"I love you because of who you are, the man you've become. Your honesty, your faithfully blind morality, the fact that you risked your life to save the enemy, that you went to battle against unexpected odds for me and our family, that you were able to see past the selfish brat I was and saw something more in me… the fact that I believed all men were born to be cruel and evil, but then you swooped in at the moment I lost all hope. You kept me from becoming cold and full of hatred. That was all done by you, Jon Snow… not some Lord or King in the North, but a bastard at the wall with the destiny of a King."

"I'd rather die than lose you," he said softly placing his forehead against hers.

"If you wish to become Stark, I understand, but know I loved you even as a Snow, I will marry you as either," Sansa's hand rested delicately on his cheek, their foreheads still touching.

"Shall we get married here or wait til we return home?" Jon smiled.

"Let us not wait, let us just marry here and celebrate when we return him. We have another war yet upon us," Sansa looked up at him. He smiled down at him, her hand brushing his loose curls, "I can't wait to be your wife."

"Nor I your husband," Jon kissed her soft pink lips, how beautifully unexpected he thought, "you should start planning as I discuss this with my aunt. We also have the matter of Cersei Lannister and how we will do her execution."

"Perhaps it can wait, I'd like her to watch me wed you as she loses everything," Sansa smiled wickedly, devouring his face with her eyes.

"Aye," Jon kissed her a few more times before taking his leave.

Authors note: Sorry it took so long to get this little chapter going. I am working seven days a week and started that other story. Soooooo any ideas on how the Queen Cersei should be dealt with? Shall it be a public execution? A private one for those whom she hurt. Shall she live and be exiled. Should she be beheaded, stabbed by each person she hurt, burned as tribute to the Gods in help with the war to come? I do think Olenna deserves some gratification for the loss of her child and grand kids. Let me know what yall think! The most popular theory shall be it!