Note: I finished the 4th book when I was writing the later bits of this chapter and realized maybe I've had characterization that might not be believable and perhaps some plot inconsistencies but do forgive me for this because Jon is now a sour guy by the end of the 3rd book and the little time he has in the 4th book. I wanna hide but I've written so far and my muse wants me to push through with Jon and Sansa XD But I hope you give it a chance and enjoy the Hayffie bits at least.

This is where it gets kinda angsty. XD Oh well. I know you guys love your angst 3

It was quite the irony when Lady Sansa and Lord Jon seemed to have a reversal of opinion. Lady Sansa had wanted to forgive. She had wanted to give a second chance and believe in change. Lord Jon had thought it was a terrible match. He had been very much against it.

But that night, they had discussed the matter. And Sansa still held the grudge in her heart, while Jon was reminded of a past love. While Sansa was never jealous of her husband's feelings for a girl in the past, she was jealous that she has never experienced love like Jon did, and their discussion turned to their own personal emotions.

In the end, they had concluded that they will merely wait and see until Lady Brienne and Lord Jaime will return to Winterfell after things go well in Tarth.

The following days, Sansa and Jon left their children to their own devices once more. The two were either avoiding each other or at each other's throats. It almost drove Jon to madness. Sansa wanted to watch over them do something for a whole day but Jon told her that it could be better to leave them alone again. Sansa would have argued if not for the fact that she remembered how she was back then. She remembered the mistrust and resentment of King's Landing towards her.

Nearly three weeks later, a raven had arrived. It bore the seal of Tarth. Sansa thought it was great timing, hoping she would catch a break from the children for a little while.

"Thank you, my lady," Euphemia beamed at the sight of the letter. The seal had been broken but she knew it was only Lady Sansa.

The young lady ran to her room and saw the letter. Since it was carried by a raven, it was not as long as she'd hope. Still, it was wonderful to receive it.

A moon away from home. Hope you are doing well. Met some pirates along the way. All you need to know is your father got poked with a pirate sword near his bottom. (In this part of the letter, the ink seemed a bit blotched) More on the story when we get back there in Winterfell. Is Lady Sansa's son wonderful? Give my regards to her and her family. We love you.

-Mother

Euphemia smiled at the letter. Glad that Lady Sansa had no plans for her and Haymitch today (it wasn't like they had planned anything for more than a fortnight, but one can never know), she began to write a reply letter.

That must be quite a fight you and father had to go through. I cannot wait to hear the full tale of this. Lord Jon is very wonderful. Lord Haymitch is

She paused, unsure of what to write about the heir of Winterfell. He had been rude to her since they met, and he only seemed to be in high spirits round her when they are bantering. When they were almost coming to breakthrough, he would suddenly stop as if he remembered that she had some plague and turn away in disgust.

a true northerner. You will see.

But she didn't want to them to see. Especially her father who she knows is impulsive.

I hope to see you soon. I hope little Octavia is well. Give Cinna, Portia, and the little ones all my love. Tell father I give all my love to his rump.

She smiled at the last bit and signed the letter. She headed to Lady Sansa's chambers to have her letter evaluated as Lady Sansa instructed. After dutifully giving the letter, she made her way towards her chambers. However, she suddenly decided that she wanted to visit the library. She had been eyeing on a collection of Northern tales that she recently discovered. When she arrived at the library however, she found herself scowling at the other inhabitant.

"Princess,"

Lord Haymitch shot up from his seat and did his signature mocking bow.

"My lord," she said icily. "I do not wish to spar words with you, today,"

"The princess reads then?"

Euphemia rolled her eyes but did not take the bait. "I'm going to pick up a book and leave you in peace, Lord Haymitch,"

Before he could jape at her, she headed straight for the farthest shelf. She was expecting Haymitch to have some sarcastic remark but he remained quiet. She almost sighed in relief but decided to just get back to her search.

When she looked in the area where she found the book, it wasn't there. She browsed the whole shelf twice and checked the other shelves. She found no sign of it anywhere. Unless…

She peered from the shelf to look at the book the Winterfell lord was reading.

It had the same shade of gray.

"My lord, is that-"

"The Tales of the North? Were you looking for this?" There was no trace of mockery in his tone only curiosity, but Effie was still cautious.

"Yes, I found it the other day and I really want to read the stories and legends of the North," she stiffly said.

"I should have expected that. Your head is wrapped in fantasies and follies," he snorted. There was the young lord she knew.

"I do not wish to ruin any of our days. If you are still reading the book, I will just leave,"

She turned toward the door when she felt a hand wrapped around her wrist.

"Here," Lord Haymitch handed out the book. "I read this countless of times already,"

The young Lannister was taken aback. This was probably the kindest gesture he had ever done.

"Th-thank you, Lord Haymitch,"

Effie would have told him how kind it was of him but he might ruin it by saying some remark about it. So instead, she gave a curtsy and left. She went to her chambers and began devouring herself with legends of Winterfell and its domain. She lost herself in the stories. She read about seven stories by the time luncheon came around. With about ten minutes to spare, she readied herself for the meal. After that, she finished on time and headed to the Great Hall.

Once she reached the hall, she was surprised to see Lord Haymitch about to head inside.

"Someone has finally learned punctuality," Effie couldn't help say.

"Oh I-" he seemed look away for an instant before staring directly at her with a dead panned expression. "I'm famished," To her surprise, he held out his arm.

"Shall we, my lady," he simply said.

"My, my, are we being gallant today?" Effie japed.

"I assure you my hunger is what caused this fit of gallantry," Lord Haymitch retorted.

"Then, they should starve you more often, my lord," Effie chuckled.

"Never. Now take my arm before I come to my senses,"

Effie took it gladly and they entered the Great Hall together in high spirits. The Lady and Lord of Winterfell were already seated. They turned to see who had arrived but then they widened their eyes at the sight behold them. They looked like they were about to say something then decided in the last minute not to. However, as they neared the table, Euphemia felt the arm around hers uncurl. She was not even astonished that Lord Haymitch had not pulled out her seat. It would be too much to ask from such a barbarian like him.

They began their meal and Lady Sansa asked her servants to serve the drink. For some time, only the clanging of silverware made noise in the hall. When desserts were served, Lord Jon spoke.

"So, why are you both in such good spirits today?"

Haymitch shrugged. "I wosh hongwy,"

"Be a dear son and do swallow your food," his mother chided and that got a small giggle from Effie. Lady Sansa and Lord Haymitch glared at the girl and she quickly tried to return to a blank expression, but her smile said otherwise.

"I said I was hungry," the boy grunted after a large swallow.

"Well, boy, we should starve you more if you are going to act this civilized," Jon mused.

"That was what I have told him, my lord," Euphemia put on her most innocent look as if she had said none.

Lord Jon laughed at that. "Clever girl,"

"No she is not. Her head is full of stories," Haymitch retorted.

"And you are not," Jon replied.

"Father, whose side are you on?" the young lord seemed to whine.

"He likes fairytales," Jon whispers to Euphemia-a little too loudly. "Especially tales and stories of Winterfell, he tells it to everyone he meets. His favorite book is Tales of the North,"

Euphemia looked at her betrothed. "Oh, I was looking for it in the library and when I saw him reading it, he lent it to me willingly,"

"Perhaps that could explain his good mood," the Winterfell lord said.

Effie couldn't believe it. They finally had common ground. Both had a love for stories. Who knew the cold, rough Northern heir had a soft spot for tales.

"I could tell you stories from Tarth," Euphemia suddenly gushed out. "You could tell me other stories you know. Maybe from your travels and such,"

"You mistake me, my lady, it is true that Tales of the North is my favorite story book but it's not in any way my favorite book," the boy told Effie.

"Oh," she squeaked. She maintained her smile but she felt her stomach plummet. "I suppose we still have to find other similar interests, my lord,"

He grunted and the whole meal continued in silence. The older nobles contained their sighs.

After the meal, they all left and said their courtesies. Effie went back to their room to read the book. Lord Haymitch may have been closed off again but she didn't want his unpleasant mood affect her. She went to her room and decided she did not feel like reading it in her room. They had a large window in one of the hallways that had a brilliant view of the Winterfell grounds. Sitting on windows was not something a proper lady would do but it was a seldom used hall.

However, when she arrived, someone had already taken her spot.

"Lord Haymitch," she curtsied.

"My lady,"

He simply turned his head and gazed intently at her. It had been a while since she had noticed those steel eyes again. They never really saw eye to eye. She thought that if she did, her resolve will crumble. She is Euphemia Lannister. She is a lion and a star and she would not let anyone, even her betrothed, devalue her. But somehow in this lighting, the young lord paled a bit while his steel eyes shone. Still, she kept her composure and returned his gaze with equal intensity.

"What brings you here?" he asked.

"I was merely finding a spot to read," she replied, not blinking at him.

The lion and the wolf, she mused. All they needed was the stag, the kraken and the fiery heart and they could have the War of Five Kings in intense staring. None of them would win though because the dragon will come and startle them into blinking.

"Go find another spot," he growled.

"I will not," Euphemia insisted.

"This is my castle and my rules, princess. I suggest you take your reading elsewhere," he barked.

She was getting frustrated. All she wanted was to try to get to know him. She wanted to please her betrothed. If she were going to change her cloak for his, she wanted that they were very well acquainted with each other. She did not understand why her husband-to-be didn't even try.

"Why are you so cold to me? We could blame the North but you and I know very well it is not,"

"You are such bloody brat are you not, Lannister?"

Euphemia straightened herself. When he calls her Lannister, he was going to say something nasty.

"YOU are being a bloody brat, Stark," she retorted. "I tried to be nice to you and open up,"

Effie was beginning to puff up and her face is heating in fury.

"How many people have had the chance to get to know their betrothed beforehand? You are not even trying. It has been two moons at least and we have done naught but fight. What will you say to our children?"

"Who says I will have your child?" he said blankly.

"But we're-"

"Betrothed, I know," the young Stark was sneering at her, like a wolf baring his teeth before he attacks. "But our parents had said that they will cut it off if it doesn't work,"

"But you're not even trying," Effie said.

"Why would I? You are a Lannister. You Lannisters are all the same,"

Effie could feel her anger boil.

"What about the Lannisters?" she hissed.

"You are all bloody liars and murderers. Your cousin… brother? He beheaded my grandfather. Your grandfather? He killed my grandmother and uncle. Then your uncle? He killed both of them off,"

It was as if she was punched one by one. He hadn't met the first two but they were still family. But her Uncle Tyrion she was especially fond of. He and her father may still have this rocky relationship but her uncle adored her.

"And your father the Kingslayer. He killed my great grandfather, crippled my uncle and caused this whole commotion by fucking his sister, your magnificent aunt,"

And she slapped him.

It took them both aback. Neither said anything- only stared at each other in disbelief.

Then, the young Lannister recovered first. She did a quick bow and ran off before he could see her tears spill. Lions don't cry, and especially not the moon and stars.

Effie could live with insulting her, her hair, dress and everything. But she couldn't bear him insulting her family. When she was thirteen, her father had told her about all the terrible things he did. He didn't even try and defend himself and explain his actions to her, but she knew in her heart that her father was no longer that man, no longer 'Ser Jaime Lannister, Kingslayer, Oathbreaker, Sisterfucker'. Haymitch had no right to judge him. He simply had no right.

The lady rushed to the courtyard. She passed several people on the way but her tears made it blurry to tell who it was. One of them seemed to be Lady Sansa but she could not care about propriety at the moment. She found Aron in the middle of the courtyard with a sword held in his hand.

"My lady," his brows creased in worry.

"Aron," she sniffed. Her eyes were wet and warm and her nose was runny yet she somehow, managed to sound dignified. "I would like to have a training session." Ladies do not usually learn the way of the sword, but her parents are unconventional people. They insisted that she be taught just in case any trouble arises. She had never seen fit to use it. Tarth's locals were harmless and Evenfall Hall was well protected. It wasn't until a rough day with a local girl who insulted her and got mud on her dress when she was younger did she see sword fighting as an outlet for her anger.

Aron opened his mouth, probably to warn her that she was not dressed for training but Effie already picked up a sword from the pile and posed herself for swordplay. It could be a challenge, she mused bitterly. The swordsman sighed and positioned himself.

They have been at it for a while-parrying, thrusting, swinging and clashing. Aron made comments on her move but she didn't seem to hear him. Every slash, that got aggressive by the minute, came a word being angrily mumbled under her breath.

After a long, tiring time, Effie wanted solitude, so she dismissed Aron. At first, he didn't want to leave her but she had insisted. The swordsman hesitatingly left.

Once he was out of sight, she sat on the snowy ground and buried her head on her knees. She willed tears to flow but her eyes were dry. So she just sat there and tried to empty her mind off anything.

Not long after, it got too cold.

"You ain't half bad with the sword, Lannister,"

Her head shot up at the familiar gruff voice. Unfortunately for her, her ears were right.

"Want to spar?"

He stood in front of her with two wooden swords, and an unreadable appearance. She tried to become angry again but she was too exhausted. Instead, she got up, curtsied and excused herself stiffly. Then, she felt a warm hand close around her wrist.

"I will not dismiss you until you spar with me," Lord Haymitch insisted.

"It is hardly right for a lady to be fighting her betrothed with swords," Euphemia croaked.

He chuckled softly. "I do not think you are a typical lady, my lady, and I am unsure if you would still want to be my betrothed after my behavior,"

The tone was casual enough but the snow felt colder. Euphemia didn't say anything but grabbed one of his swords and almost struck his left leg if it weren't for his quick reflexes.

"Ah, too slow, my lady," the Lord Stark taunted. This only seemed to infuriate her and she swung at him again. He caught the wooden blade again. She swung at him faster and faster but he still seemed to catch it. Then, somehow Haymitch got his guard down and Effie hit him with a moved that might have grazed him if it were a real sword.

"Not bad, princess. Now, my turn,"

He swung at her with more complicated moves and Effie almost couldn't keep up. She was able to hold herself for a surprisingly long time until Haymitch poked her in her heart. They were both panting.

"I win," he smiled smugly at her, but she did not look amused.

"Well, I hope you are satisfied with your victory, Lord Stark," she huffed before walking swiftly to the direction of the door. She could hear snow shuffling behind her.

"I-"

Euphemia raised her hand to silence him.

"I have heard enough apologies, Lord Stark. It is a very nice gesture for Lady Sansa to let you own up to your actions every time you say something spiteful but I am in no mood to forgive you right now,"

"My mother did not send me. I know I have stepped out of line talking about your family, especially your father like that. I-I truly am sorry, my lady,"

"Spare me the courtesies, Lord Stark," she snapped. "It is plain that your family had doubts about our match. Lannister and Stark have a long history of bad blood, my parents already told me. And I see that there will never be peace between Lannisters and Starks, despite this being a new day and age. I will write to Tarth immediately and tell my lord father and lady mother that I shall return home,"

The young Stark fell silent beside her. He let her leave.

Note: Sorry for a long update. I've been busy with finals and haven't had the time for proofreading especially since my family shares the laptop. Thank you for reading (and for your patience). Please do read and review. I would really appreciate it. Even constructive criticism would help 3 I hope you stick with this story even if Sansa and Jon are a ship (not a ship) and may be OOC T-T