Chapter Seven

Jon couldn't remember the last time he'd been so angry with Sansa. Actually, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been this angry period. His fists were clenched together so tight his hands were aching. He wanted to hit something – no, he wanted to hit someone. A couple someone's. First, Ramsay fucking Bolton and then Dr. Jaime Lannister. How could Sansa be so naïve as to think Dr. Lannister merely took her to his home just to comfort her? He wanted to comfort her all right. Comfort her right into his bed.

Dr. Lannister was a predator, Jon knew it. He saw it. He hated the way the other man looked at Sansa. Like she was his favorite treat and he meant to consume her. Sansa being Sansa was completely oblivious of course. Even after he took her to his house and plied her with drinks, she still thought that he was just some good stand-up guy that just wanted to make her feel better?

Jon hated that he wasn't there at that party with Sansa. He hated the way Ramsay looked at her, too. What had she been thinking going to that party? He was sure that was all Margaery and man did he want to give her a piece of his mind, too. Why hadn't she been looking out for Sansa? Margaery knew that Ramsay was a creep with a hard-on for Sansa, why the hell didn't Margaery make sure that little prick stayed away from her?

And why did she not call him? She should have called him right away and not gone to Dr. Lannister's home. He was the one that should have been with her.

He failed her, or at least that's how he felt. He was supposed to be looking out for her. He'd promised Ned and Catelyn. He'd promised Robb. He's also promised Sansa, and now look. She had a horrifying experience and he wasn't there to protect her, to take care of her.

Jon marched into his dorm and slammed the door to the suite behind him with such force, he heard the windows rattle. He was about to storm into his room when he heard a soft voice say, "Jon?"

He looked over and there was Ygritte. And Sam. It appeared they were playing a video game – Sam must have lugged out his television and X-box. He blinked, surprised to see her there.

She jumped up, dumping her controller on the couch. "I came by to see if you wanted to get lunch or something. If you didn't have class or anything, that is." She frowned. "You ok? What's wrong?"

Jon wasn't sure how he felt seeing Ygritte here. He wasn't really in the mood to deal with anything or anyone. What he wanted to do was track down Ramsay and beat the shit out of him. Then he wanted to track down Dr. Lannister and tell him in no uncertain terms to leave Sansa alone.

But Sansa had asked him to keep quiet. To not do anything. Jon didn't like it. He felt…neutered. Disarmed. It wasn't a comfortable feeling. And when he thought about how she hadn't called him, how she'd been too wrapped up in Dr. Lannister to let him know what had happened to her…

Logically, he knew that she didn't have to do that. That she was allowed to come and go as she pleased, and that he couldn't be there for everything. He knew that. But his fear for what could have happened to Sansa overrode all of that logic. It twisted his gut to think of what Ramsay could have done and then to think of how Dr. Lannister could have taken advantage in her fragile state.

If Sansa wanted to date, if she wanted to have someone as she'd so expressed, then she should be with someone her own age for one, and for another, with someone that isn't her teacher. She deserved to be wooed. She deserved flowers and pretty words and to be swept off her feet – not hushed meetings in some professor's home. She would be his toy and nothing else and it made Jon's blood boil to think about it.

"Jon?"

Jon looked at Ygritte, forgetting for a minute that she was there. "I'm – I'm not in the best mood. I just… I got into an argument with Sansa."

Ygritte frowned. "Your friend Sansa? The one I met at the movie theater?"

"Yes, that Sansa. The one and only, thank the Gods," he muttered.

Ygritte arched a brow. "Did something happen with her boyfriend or something?"

Oh, that's right Ygritte thought Sansa had a boyfriend. Jon sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "She doesn't have a boyfriend, Ygritte," he told her. "She only said that to play my 'wingman'."

Ygritte's expression went from shocked to puzzled and then to a smile. "So then she doesn't truly have an interest in you. Romantically, I mean."

"No." And why did that make him inwardly wince?

"She's a good friend then, don't you think?"

She was a good friend. She looked out for him as much as he looked out for her…sort of. Sansa made sure he went out, did things, had fun. Jon made sure Sansa stayed out of trouble, and when she got into it he got her out of it. Sansa had always been rather naïve. She never wanted to hurt anyone's feelings – which is probably why Ramsay got away with far more than he would have with anyone else. If it had been her younger sister Arya, Ramsay would have gone away with his tail between his legs the first time he ever attempted to flirt with her.

Sansa had always been cossetted by Robb and her parents. She had lived in a world of fairytales, believing that everyone she came in contact with would be as wonderful to her as her siblings – perhaps save for Arya. But even if those two could fight like cats and dogs, there was still love there and Sansa knew it.

She wanted to see the best in people even when they gave her no reason to. So, she didn't see Dr. Lannister for what he was. In her mind he was some kind of knight that had come along to save her.

I should have been there, Jon thought for the hundredth time. I'm the one that's always there.

"What was the fight about?" Ygritte asked.

Jon couldn't tell her, and what was more he didn't want to. He wouldn't implicate Sansa in any way and it rattled him to think that Ygritte would think less of her if he told her about Sansa going to Dr. Lannister's. He could be upset with Sansa and think her naïve and reckless, but no one else was allowed to.

"It's nothing, forget it," he muttered. "If you want to do lunch, we can." He doesn't want to, not really, not when he's still angry and wanting to hurt someone. But perhaps the best course of action at this point in time is distraction.

Ygritte smiled. "Maybe I can get you to tell me what the fight was about."

"Nah, forget it. It's not a big deal." Except that it is.

She didn't look like she believed him, but then she slipped her arm through his and bid Sam goodbye. She led him out of the dorm and once outside, she kissed him. It was longer this time. With tongue.

Jon felt some of his anger dissipate and wondered if perhaps this was for the best. Distance from Sansa. He had his own life to lead just as she did. Maybe what she needed was to stumble and fall, to be allowed to do just that in order to learn.

He feels resolved in this. He can do this. Distance between him and Sansa will be a good thing. But his resolve dissipated the second he saw Dr. Lannister in the quad, presumably on the way to a class. Jon stared at him, willing the other man to look his way.

"Who are you glaring at?" Ygritte asked.

Jon clenched his jaw and forced himself to look away from Dr. Lannister. "No one."

xxxxxx

Ramsay was expelled from school.

Sansa had been called to meet with the President of the college to relay to her what had happened between her and Ramsay. Jaime had been there the whole time with her and later, when they met for her lessons, she'd hugged him when he told her that Ramsay was asked to leave the school.

"He was contrite," Jaime explained as he told Sansa how Ramsay's meeting with the President had gone. "I think he thought if he acted sorry enough he would be granted leniency. Our fearless leader doesn't tolerate assault of any kind, so he was asked to leave."

"Thank you so much, Jaime," Sansa gushed. "Oh, you have no idea how nice it is to know I don't have to run into that slime on campus now. The very thought of it actually terrified me."

And since she and Jon were apparently not talking, and hadn't been for the past four days, she didn't have him around to act as a buffer. That was fine. She was a big girl and she'd handled it. She didn't need Jon to protect her; she could take care of herself.

"I thought perhaps we could celebrate," he said.

"Oh?"

"I was thinking dinner? At my place?"

Sansa's heart started to race. Maybe Jon had been right. Maybe Jaime did want her. When she thought of how she'd caught glimpses of Jon and Ygritte around campus – was she permanently in his pocket now? – she thought maybe she wanted Jaime, too.

Why couldn't she have her own fun? Her own guy? Jaime was handsome, intelligent, witty, charming, and he'd saved her from Ramsay. He wasn't like the stupid boys she attended classes with. He was mature.

And, he obviously thought she was too or he wouldn't even bother with her. She was something special to him. She smiled shyly. "I'd like that."

As they made plans for that Friday night – he'd pick her up off campus so they wouldn't be seen— part of Sansa knew this wasn't exactly right. The element of having to hide what they were doing made her feel uneasy. Jon would have a shit fit if he found out. If he even cared anymore about her. He and Ygritte were an item now apparently, he didn't seem to need her or care what she did, so fuck him.

Besides, it could be fun being all covert op about this. To have a secret and be all clandestine about it. In some way it made her feel more grown-up. Jon had told her to grow up and stop being naïve. Well, she wasn't being naïve. She knew exactly what she was doing and she was prepared for it. A possible mature affair with an older man?

Bring. It. On.