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Sweetest love, I do not go,
For weariness of thee,
Nor in hope the world can show
A fitter love for me.
― John Donne
A fortnight later
Daenerys opened the door of Jon's chambers.
Her nephew's room was as neat as ever.
The books that lined the shelves were arranged in alphabetical order. The bed was perfectly made. His weapons were lined up along the wall in order of size. Most of the weapons were gifts, and Daenerys was sure that Jon had never used them.
A small and sad smile appeared on Dany's face. Jon had lived so long not knowing who his mother was – who he was – that it made sense his need of exerting control over some elements of his life. The careful alphabetization of his books was a good example of that.
Daenerys noticed Longclaw glittering across the room, next to the writing desk.
Jon always made sure that his papers and letters were stacked carefully on the desk, but not this time.
Maybe Jon's room was not as neat as ever, after all – the Queen said to herself as she looked at the desk before her. The desk was covered with scattered papers and various maps.
Jon barely needed servants. He was used of taking care of himself. He might have lived most of his life as the Lord of Winterfell's bastard, but Lady Catelyn Stark always made sure to emphasize the fact that he was not a Stark, which meant that he was not allowed to have the same treatment – the same luxuries – that his siblings/cousins had.
He learned how to make his bed and clean his own bedchamber. He even knew how to peel potatoes, he had confessed during one of their many conversations.
Daenery's chest ached unbearably when she thought about a small boy searching for approval; trying to please a woman who refused to love him. No matter how hard he tried, he could never draw a smile on her face; he was doomed to fail.
Catelyn Stark's refusal to accept Jon as family made Daenery's stomach twist. She couldn't help but hate the woman.
She knew that Jon never blamed Lady Stark for the way she treated him.
She hated me, but I never hated her – Jon used to say.
The small boy with gray eyes and raven hair never hated the woman who hated him. How could he hate someone whom he tried so desperately to please? All he ever wanted was to be loved by her. He wanted a mother.
Daenerys whished Jon had been the one by her side, during her childhood, instead of Viserys. How wonderful her life – their life – could have been.
Jon had a good heart. He was raised in the North, but his heart was not cold – it was warm.
She couldn't understand how anyone could not love him. Jon was so easy to love.
She found him on his private balcony that overlooked Blackwater Bay. His elbows were propped against the stone railing; his head cradled in his hands.
"I need to return home" – Jon said, feeling her presence at his side.
Daenerys frowned. She wanted to say that he was already home, but managed to prevent the words from leaving her mouth.
"Margaery Tyrell is coming to court, Jon" – she stated – "Your presence is required here. You were the one who asked her to –"
"Didn't we reach a decision already?" – Jon suddenly snapped, looking at his aunt.
The Dragon Queen sighed.
"There are formalities we have to go through. Your absence would be considered an insult" – Daenerys explained, resting her forearms on the railings like he was.
Jon turned his attention back to the bay.
His thoughts traveled and he remembered Bran. His brother/cousin had returned home almost six moons after the Battle of Bastards, only to leave again. He was accompanied by Meera Reed and Howland Reed.
It was Bran who revealed Jon's true parentage. He told him about his title as the Three-Eyed Raven and his vision – the events that unfolded at the Tower of Joy towards the end of Robert's Rebellion.
He told Jon and Sansa how he followed Ned Stark and watched him find Lyanna in a bed of her own blood. He told them that she had given birth to a newborn son by her alleged kidnapper Rhaegar Targaryen. He told them about the way she implored Ned to protect him from Robert Baratheon. He told them that the baby was Jon; Howland Reed confirmed it.
In that moment, Jon's world came apart as he realized that everything he believed was a lie; his life was a lie.
Bran left Winterfell before the White Walkers descended upon Westeros from the farthest north.
Jon had not heard from him since then, but something in his chest told him that Bran was still alive and that he was watching over them.
"What if she doesn't accept the seat on the Small council?" – Daenery's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"She won't refuse a high position at court" – Jon stated. She's not stupid – he said to himself.
She's in love with power – Tyrion's words echoed in his head.
"A high position at court is not exactly a crown" – Daenerys retorted.
"I never promised her a crown" – Jon said with more roughness than he intended – "It's not my fault that people started to make assumptions"
"But the spring feast –" – the Queen tried to say.
"It was for Sansa!" – Jon felt his voice rise, but he didn't bother to force it back down – "I didn't invite Margaery, you did! You know I've never wanted to marry her!" – he exclaimed.
Daenerys winced at his tone. It was a rare sight to see Jon angry, even more so for him to be angry at her.
She looked at Jon and noticed the shadows under his eyes. He looked tired.
The King in the North sighed, running his fingers through his dark curls.
"I'm sorry, Dany. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that" – he said in a more controlled voice.
Daenerys reached over him, put a hand on his cheek and turned his face towards her.
"When was the last time you slept?" – she asked, looking right into his gray eyes.
She pushed a lock of hair from his forehead.
"She didn't reply to my letter" – he said, not answering Dany's question.
So that is why his desk is covered with scattered papers – Daenerys realized – They must be unsent letters.
Dany remembered Jon's time at court, right after they defeated the White Walkers. She still couldn't understand how she managed to keep him away from Winterfell for so long, but somehow she did.
She remembered the way her nephew used to jump from his seat and lock himself in his chambers every time a raven arrived with a new letter from Sansa. Jon would write and write and write … He would send his response himself, not wasting any time with formalities, and then he would wait and wait and wait, until a new letter arrived.
Jon used to write at least four different letters, before he was pleased with his words.
Daenerys could still hear Tyrion's comments. According to him, they could write the entire History of the Seven Kingdoms using all the crumbled papers of Jon's unsent letters.
"I keep saying to myself that if she didn't reply she must have had a good reason, but …" – Jon trailed off.
"Perhaps she fears interception. Ravens are easy targets" – Daenerys commented – "Even a harmless letter can prove fatal should it fall into the wrong hands. I'm sure she's just being cautious" – she added – "Do you have any news from the North?"
"Davos has been sending me letters. Council meetings reports and stoic observations of Winterfell" – and of Sansa's behavior, Jon said to himself.
According to the man, the Lady of Winterfell didn't show any signs of tiredness. The northern lords were happy with the way she conducted the council meetings. She ate well. Ghost spent the nights in her chambers and Lady Brienne was always close by…
Jon couldn't help but feel relieved with the information that Ser Davos provided him. He just hoped that Sansa didn't find out about his reports. She would probably think that he was spying on her; that he didn't trust her, when the truth was that he just needed to know if she was safe.
"The Northern Houses started to leave Winterfell a sennight ago" – Jon continued to say – "They've accepted the new terms relating to the Free Folk"
"Good" – Daenerys nodded – "And what about Lord Lake?" – she asked, looking at Jon.
Jon tried to remain with a neutral face.
The mere mention of the man's name made him unreasonably angry. Or maybe it wasn't as unreasonable as it seemed – Jon realized – Maybe this was one of his family traits; the fiery, violent Targaryen blood. Jon could now feel it running through him very strongly.
He clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth might crack.
"I've sent him a Royal Decree" – he stated.
Sansa pulled a chair close to the hearth, took down one of her favorite books, and lost herself in the stories of Florian and Jonquil.
She was enjoying her reading when a memory invaded her mind – the day Lyanna Mormont left Winterfell.
Sansa watched Lyanna mounting her horse and her heart ached a little. She would miss the small girl. She reminded her of another small girl.
She's not a small girl anymore – she heard her own conscience say – Arya is a grown woman now.
She never thought she would miss her little sister so much. The old Sansa wouldn't, but the Sansa from the Present did; the Sansa from the Present needed her.
"He'll come back" – Lyanna said, leaning down so Sansa could hear her – "He'll come back" – she repeated, but the Lady of Winterfell was too bewildered to speak – "For you" – she added with a smile.
Lyanna kicked the horse, forcing the Mormont men to follow their brave leader.
Sansa shook her head, trying to erase that memory from her mind. She needed to stop thinking about Jon.
He'd made a decision. He'd decided to leave Winterfell. He'd decided to build a future with Margaery.
Lyanna was wrong.
Yes, Jon would return home, but not for her; he would return for the Realm, for the North, for Winterfell, for him. He would return because it was his duty.
Sansa took a deep breath and focused her attention on the book.
"You are no knight, I know you. You are Florian the Fool" – Jonquil said.
"I am, my lady, as great a fool as ever lived, and as great a knight as well" – Florian said.
"A fool and a knight? I have never heard of such a thing" – Jonquil said.
"Sweet lady, all men are fools, and all men are knights, where women are concerned" – Florian stated.
A knock on the door disturbed her reading.
Sansa put down the book and walked towards the door, hoping not to see Davos on the other side. His constant questions were starting to annoy her a bit. He even asked her about her meals. She was the Lady of Winterfell, not a child who needed a guardian.
Lately it seemed like all people in the castle had decided to control her moves… or to please her.
Even the kitchen staff decided to treat her like a child. She wanted to hate the cooks but she couldn't. She loved lemon cakes and the kitchen staff made enough lemon cakes for a whole year.
She couldn't help but find the servants' behavior strange.
Her thoughts traveled to Ser Davos's words:
He left letters with instructions and orders before leaving the castle – he had said the day after Jon left Winterfell –They are very specific, if I may say. He even instructed the kitchen staff to –
Sansa bit the inside of her cheek, realizing what was really happening. Jon was the responsible for the servants' behavior.
What was his plan? To control her? To punish her? To fatten her?
Sansa opened the door, ready to face Ser Davos.
"Sebastian" – she said, looking at the man in front of her. Slowly, the anger started to leave her body – "Didn't we agree to meet in the courtyard before dinner?" – she asked, hand coming out to guide him to inside the room.
"I'm leaving" – Sebastian said, watching Sansa closing the door.
"Leaving?" – the Lady of Winterfell asked, confused.
"A raven arrived this morning" – Sebastian said.
"A raven?" – she asked again.
"A Royal Decree" – Sebastian stated – "King Jon annulled our engagement" –he explained, walking towards the nearest window – "He probably found someone more suitable to be your husband; someone from the South" – he added, not even trying to disguise his signs of irritation.
"What? No…" – Sansa said, shaking her head – "Jon would never do that. He knows I don't want to leave the North … I don't want to go South" – she tried hard to cling to some hope –"There must be another explanation"
There must be another explanation – the words echoed in her head.
Sansa could hear her own heart beating as a bad feeling inside her grew stronger.
Why was Jon doing this to her? Why did he annul her engagement?
If this was a song, the answer would be: because he loved her; because he was planning to marry her; because he wanted her to be his.
But this wasn't a song. Jon left without saying goodbye. Margaery was travelling to King's Landing.
I'd rather live with a man that I don't love than to stay here and watch you be in love with someone else for the rest of my life!
Jon knew that she didn't want to stay in this castle anymore. He knew she wanted to leave. He knew she would not be able to watch him love Margaery for the rest of her life.
Sansa felt herself growing weaker. She could feel the world – her world – going darker and it became harder and harder to breathe.
She was now more confused than ever.
Sebastian Lake took her hand and kissed it.
"I'm sorry, Sansa … I really am" – he said, opening the door – "I wish things had turned out differently but I cannot do anything about it now" – he explained, before stepping out of the room.
Sansa gulped, trying to control the amount of emotions that were invading her body. After a few seconds, she forced her feet to move.
Before she could close the door, Ser Davos appeared right in front of her. He was about to open his mouth, but Sansa was faster.
"We need to talk" – she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
A sennight later
Tyrion, Jon and Daenerys were outside on the battlements, watching the Tyrell party leave the Red Keep.
"Well, that went well" – Jon spoke, remembering their meeting with Margaery Tyrell.
The Lady of Highgarden accepted the seat on the Small council.
She didn't talk about marriage prospects and she didn't make any demands. She just thanked them for their kind offer and smiled.
Margaery asked to visit Highgarden before moving definitely to court. She missed Loras and her home. She wanted to be the one informing her brother about her new position at court.
She promised to return to King's Landing in less than two moons.
"Too well" – Tyrion commented.
"Perhaps we should find her a husband" – Daenerys suggested – "Someone whose loyalty is to be absolutely trusted, determined, un-renounceable…"
"I could easily play that role" – Tyrion said – "For the good of the Realm, of course" – he added, glancing at Daenerys.
The Queen immediately looked at him.
"Replacing me already?" – she frowned.
"Hardly" – Tyrion said, enjoying the way Daenerys narrowed her eyes – "She has her uses, but not your charm" – he added.
Daenery's lips twisted into a smirk.
Jon watched Tyrion and Dany sharing a look.
The King in the North arched an eyebrow.
Were they flirting?
The mischievous smile on Tyrion's face was all the answer he needed.
Jon felt his cheeks flush red as he remembered the amount of time Daenerys used to spend at the Tower of the Hand or the long meetings that Tyrion and the Queen used to have.
He felt awkward in their company and struggled to compose himself. For a split second, Jon thought he had travel to the Past. The awkwardness he was feeling now was the same he used to feel every time he caught Robb flirting with a girl.
In an awkward movement he rigidly started walking. He wanted nothing more than to find Rhaegal and return home.
"And where do you think you're going?" – Daenery's voice, made him stop walking.
He closed his eyes for a second, before turning his body.
"I'm going to Winterfell" – Jon said, facing his aunt – "I did what you asked. I've waited for Margaery's arrival and helped you negotiate with her, but now Margaery is not here anymore, which means that my presence is no longer required" – he added, before Dany could protest.
The Dragon Queen smiled. Jon looked at her, confused. He was expecting her to argue with him, not a beatific smile.
"I'm going with you. It's about time for me to meet the North" – Daenerys stated, catching Jon by surprise – "And Sansa" – she winked at him.
Next chapter: Jon and Sansa's reunion, I promise!
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