Reason of State, Matters of the Heart
As the first rays of the morning sun gently filtered through the curtains, Gwayne slowly stirred awake, his arms instinctively wrapping around Sansa. He pulled her closer, feeling her warmth against his chest, and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.
"Good morning, my love," he whispered, his voice still thick with sleep and affection.
"Good morning," Sansa murmured, her voice tinged with contentment as she snuggled closer to him. She turned her head to meet his gaze, and their lips met in a tender morning kiss.
Under the soft embrace of the covers, they lingered in each other's arms, savouring the intimacy and closeness they shared. Their fingers traced gentle patterns on each other's skin, their touches a language of love and devotion.
Gwayne's heart swelled with love as he looked into Sansa's eyes, seeing the depth of affection and adoration reflected in her gaze. He marvelled at the woman before him, strong and resilient, yet so tender and vulnerable in his embrace.
"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," he whispered, his voice still filled with awe.
Sansa blushed, a soft smile gracing her lips. "And you are the most wonderful man I have ever met," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity.
Their kisses grew more passionate, the fire of their love reigniting as they lost themselves in each other. Time seemed to slow down as they explored each other's bodies, their love deepening with every touch and caress.
They spent the morning in a blissful embrace of affection, the world outside their sanctuary forgotten for a little while. In each other's arms, they found solace and joy, their bodies entwined in a dance of love and passion.
As they lay tangled together, basking in the afterglow of their love, Gwayne pressed a soft kiss to Sansa's forehead. "I can't believe how fortunate I am to have you in my life," he said, his voice filled with reverence.
Sansa smiled up at him, her heart full of love. "And I can't believe how much you've brought into my life," she replied.
They held each other close, the weight of the world momentarily lifted from their shoulders. In each other's love, they found strength and hope, knowing that they could face whatever challenges came their way.
While they lay together, their bodies intertwined and their hearts connected, they knew that their love was a force that could conquer anything. In each other, they had found a love that was deep and true, a love that would guide them through the darkest nights and the brightest days.
And as they continued to share their morning in sweet tenderness, they both knew that they were home—in each other's love, they had found a place where they belonged, a place where they could be vulnerable and strong, tender and passionate, all at once.
As they lay wrapped in each other's embrace, Sansa took a deep breath, her heart beating with a mix of excitement and nervousness. She looked into Gwayne's eyes, her gaze unwavering, and found the courage to speak her heart.
"Gwayne," she began, her voice steady but filled with emotion, "I want to be with you, not just for now, but for the rest of my life. I want to face the challenges and joys of ruling the North with you by my side."
Gwayne listened attentively, his heart swelling with love and hope.
"I want you to be my King Consort," she continued, her voice soft and earnest. "I want us to face the future together, to share our love and build a life as partners in ruling this kingdom."
His eyes widened in surprise and delight, and he cupped her cheek with a tender touch. "Sansa," he said, his voice catching with emotion, "I would be utmost honoured to stand by your side, to support and love you in every way I can."
She smiled, feeling a rush of joy and relief at his response. "But our children," she said, her voice sombre, "They need to carry the Stark name, to be a part of this family and this legacy."
Gwayne's eyes softened with warmth, his heart overflowing with love for the woman before him. "I promise to love and care for our children with all my heart," he replied, "and to raise them as proud Starks."
Sansa's heart soared at his words, and she took a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing. "And as for your title as Lord Massey," she said, her voice tinged with sadness, "I know that our marriage will mean that it falls to your brother's line of succession."
Gwayne nodded, understanding the implications of her words. "It is a sacrifice I am willing to make," he said, his voice steady. "For you, for us, and for the future we will build together."
Sansa's eyes glistened with tears, touched by his selflessness and devotion. "You are the most honourable and loving man I could have met," she whispered, "and I am grateful for the chance to share my life with you."
With a mixture of joy and determination, Sansa leaned in to kiss Gwayne, sealing their decision with a passionate embrace. At that moment, they knew that their love was a bond that could withstand any test, a love that would guide them through the trials and triumphs of ruling the North together.
In the afternoon, as the soft sunlight bathed the room in a warm glow, Sansa gathered with her closest friends, Jeyne Poole and Meera Reed, in her private chambers. They sat around a low table, sipping on fragrant tea and savouring the delectable lemon cakes that were a favourite of her.
"I have something important to share with both of you," Sansa said, her voice tinged with excitement and nervousness.
Jeyne and Meera exchanged curious glances, their eyes shining with anticipation. "What is it, Sansa?" Jeyne asked, her voice eager.
"I've made a decision," Sansa began, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Gwayne has returned, and after spending time together, I have realized that my feelings for him run deep and true."
Meera's eyes widened in delight, and she reached out to grasp Sansa's hand. "Oh, that's wonderful news, Sansa!" she exclaimed.
Jeyne's face broke into a grin. "You're in love with Lord Massey, aren't you?" she teased.
Sansa blushed, but her smile remained radiant. "Yes, I am," she admitted. "And I've asked him to be my King Consort."
Jeyne gasped in surprise, her eyes shining with happiness. "That's great!" she said. "He's a good man, and you two will make a formidable team ruling the North."
Meera nodded in agreement; her eyes filled with warmth. "I can see how much he cares for you, Sansa," she said. "You deserve all the happiness in the world."
Sansa felt a rush of gratitude for her friends' support. "Thank you both," she said, her voice filled with emotion. "Your friendship means the world to me, and I'm glad to have you by my side as I embark on this new chapter of my life."
As they continued to share tea and lemon cakes, the conversation turned to lighter topics, and laughter filled the air. They reminisced about their childhood days in Winterfell and the mischief they had got into together.
"You remember that time when we stole Lady Catelyn's pies from the kitchen?" Jeyne said, giggling.
Sansa's eyes sparkled with mirth. "Yes, and we blamed it on poor old Ser Rodrik," she said, her laughter infectious.
Meera joined in the laughter. Sansa's heart feeling lighter than it had in days. In the company of her dear friends, she felt a sense of ease and comfort, knowing that they would stand by her no matter what challenges lay ahead.
As the afternoon turned into evening, they bid each other farewell with warm hugs and promises to meet again soon. Sansa felt a sense of excitement and contentment as she watched her friends depart, knowing that she was about to embark on a new journey with the man she loved by her side.
And as she settled into her chambers, she found herself reflecting on the day's events with a heart full of joy and anticipation. She knew that her decision to be with Gwayne was the right one, and she was filled with hope for the future they would build together.
The next day, with a sense of determination and excitement, Sansa gathered her small council for an important meeting. The councillors took their seats around the table in the council chamber, their expressions a mix of curiosity and anticipation.
"My lords and ladies," Sansa began, her voice steady and confident, "I have called this meeting to inform you of an significant decision I have made. Lord Gwayne Massey has returned to Winterfell, and after much consideration, I have asked him to be my King Consort."
The councillors exchanged glances, some surprised by the news, while others nodded in understanding. Lord Thenn, who had grown fond of Sansa during his time in Winterfell, was the first to speak.
"Your Grace, that's wonderful news," he said, a warm smile on his face. "Lord Massey is a good man, and I believe he will be a great asset to you and to the North."
Sansa nodded, grateful for Lord Thenn's support. "Thank you, Lord Thenn," she replied. "I value your opinion, and I am glad to have your support."
Lady Cerwyn, ever the outspoken voice of reason, spoke up next. "Your Grace, we must consider the implications of this decision for the North," she said, her tone happy but firm.
Sansa nodded, knowing that Lyanna had a point. "Of course," she said. "Lord Massey's title will eventually pass to his brother's line of succession. We must ensure a smooth transition and maintain stability within House Massey and the North."
Maester Wolkan, with his vast knowledge of history and tradition, added his input. "Your Grace, it is not uncommon for noblewomen to marry men of lower rank," he said. "However, it will require careful management to address the concerns of other noble houses."
Sansa acknowledged the challenge ahead, her mind already working on how to handle any potential opposition. "I understand," she said. "We will need to tread carefully and assure the other houses that this marriage will not weaken our position, but strengthen it."
Ser Marlon Manderly, a loyal and wise advisor, spoke up next. "Your Grace, I believe that the love and trust you share with Lord Massey will be evident to anyone who truly cares about the well-being of the North," he said. "Your happiness is of utmost importance, and I am certain that the majority will support your decision."
Sansa felt a surge of gratitude for Ser Manderly's words, and she smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, my Ser," she said. "Your wisdom and support mean a great deal to me."
As the council meeting continued, they discussed the details of Sansa and Gwayne's marriage, the arrangements that needed to be made, and how to address any concerns from the other noble houses. Throughout the discussions, Sansa felt a sense of pride and determination. She knew that marrying Gwayne was the right decision, and she was prepared to face any challenges that came their way.
With the support of her small council, Sansa felt more confident than ever in her choice. She knew that she could rely on their advice and guidance as she navigated the complexities of ruling the North and being in love.
With the matters of her impending marriage discussed, Sansa turned the attention of the council to another pressing issue – the lands that had once belonged to House Bolton and the Dreadfort.
"My lords and ladies," Sansa addressed her councillors, "the question of how to handle the lands and holdings that were previously owned by House Bolton is one that requires careful consideration."
Ser Manderly nodded thoughtfully. "Aye, Your Grace, the Dreadfort's lands are extensive and fertile. It would be wise to ensure they are allocated appropriately to avoid any conflicts or grievances."
Maester Wolkan, his fingers steepled before him, interjected, "Your Grace, Lord Glover had been fostering a young boy, Lancel Snow, the bastard of the late Lord Hornwood. He is now barely sixteen summers old and a very distant relative of House Bolton. He possesses some claim to these lands."
Sansa furrowed her brows, mulling over the information. "Lancel Snow," she repeated, "a boy who has endured a tangled legacy. But we must ensure fairness in our decisions, even in the face of past wrongs."
"Perhaps we can find a way to ensure that House Bolton's legacy is truly put to rest," she suggested. "Lancel Snow, while carrying the name of his forebearers, is not responsible for their actions. And we must consider the larger picture, the unity and healing of the North."
Ser Manderly nodded in agreement. "Your Grace, we could choose to legitimize Lancel Snow as Lord Lancel Hornwood. This would grant him a rightful claim to the Hornwood lands, and by betrothing him to a noble house, like House Manderly, we can strengthen alliances."
Meera Reed chimed in. "Furthermore, using the resources of the Dreadfort to restore the Hornwood keep would not only honour the past but also contribute to the future."
Maester Wolkan nodded. "Indeed, repairing the Hornwood keep would benefit the North as a whole and symbolize the transition from a dark history to a brighter era."
Lady Cerwyn's brows furrowed. "And what of the Dreadfort itself?" she asked, her voice carrying a mix of uncertainty and resolve.
Sansa met her gaze. "The Dreadfort stands as a painful reminder of the past. Razing it to the ground would be a powerful symbol of moving forward, of breaking free from the shackles of House Bolton's tyranny."
Lady Cerwyn continued; her voice soft but resolute. "Your Grace, by legitimizing Lancel Snow, he has a chance to build a new legacy for House Hornwood, one that is untainted by the horrors of the past."
Sansa turned to Maester Wolkan. "Maester, can you draft a decree outlining our decisions? Lancel Snow shall be legitimized as Lord Lancel Hornwood, betrothed to Lady Wylla Manderly. The funds from the Dreadfort will be used to restore the Hornwood keep, and the Dreadfort itself will be razed."
Maester Wolkan nodded, his quill poised to write. "Of course, your grace. I shall ensure that the decree is prepared and presented appropriately."
With the council's consensus, a plan began to take shape. The decisions were made with a sense of purpose and a commitment to shaping a better future for the North. As the discussions continued, Sansa felt a profound sense of responsibility weighing on her shoulders.
"I believe these decisions reflect our dedication to justice and progress," Sansa said, addressing her councillors. "By making these choices, we honour the victims of the past and pave the way for a brighter future."
Lord Thenn's stern expression softened, and she nodded. "Your Grace, I have faith that these decisions will be respected and understood throughout the North."
As the council meeting neared its end, a raven's arrival the previous day brought forth a new topic of discussion. Sansa watched as Maester Wolkan carefully unrolled the scroll and began to read its contents.
"Your Grace," Maester Wolkan began, his voice carrying a note of formality, "a raven has arrived from Ironrath. Lord Rodrik Forrester humbly requests your blessing upon his proposal to betroth his youngest sister, Lady Talia Forrester, to his ward, Gawen Glover."
Sansa listened attentively, considering the implications of this new alliance. After a moment of thoughtful silence, she turned to her councillors.
"I have known Lord Rodrik Forrester for some time," she began, her voice measured. "His house has been a loyal ally to House Stark, and their resilience during times of hardship is commendable."
Meera Reed leaned forward; her expression thoughtful. "Your Grace, a betrothal between House Forrester and House Glover would strengthen the bonds between the North's noble houses. It could also help ensure stability and unity in these uncertain times."
Ser Manderly nodded in agreement. "Aye, Your Grace, such alliances can play a crucial role in securing our region's future."
Sansa turned her gaze to Lady Cerwyn, seeking her opinion. "Lady Cerwyn, what are your thoughts on this matter?"
Lady Cerwyn's unsure expression softened. "Your Grace, if this betrothal is in the best interest of the North, I see no reason to object. House Forrester has proven their loyalty, and House Glover would benefit from such a connection."
Sansa nodded, her decision becoming clear. "Very well. Maester Wolkan, please draft a response to Lord Rodrik Forrester. Inform him that I grant my blessing upon the betrothal of Lady Talia Forrester and Gawen Glover. May this union bring prosperity and strength to both houses and to the North."
As Maester Wolkan began to jot down the response, Sansa couldn't help but feel a sense of hope. While the challenges of ruling were many, these moments of diplomacy and decision-making were opportunities to shape the future of the North. With each alliance formed and each choice made, she was one step closer to creating a realm that was united, resilient, and prepared to face whatever lay ahead.
As the council meeting drew to a close, Sansa felt a mixture of exhaustion and accomplishment. The discussions had been thorough, the decisions made with careful consideration. With a final nod to her councillors, she signalled the end of the session.
"Thank you all for your contributions," Sansa said, her voice carrying a note of gratitude. "We have much work ahead of us, but together, we will guide the North towards a better future."
The councillors exchanged nods and polite farewells as they began to disperse, leaving the room gradually quieter. Among the departing figures, Lady Cerwyn, offered Sansa a supportive smile before exiting.
Once the room had emptied, Sansa turned her attention to Gwayne Massey, who had remained by her side throughout the meeting. A soft smile graced her lips as she looked at him.
"Finally, a moment of respite," she remarked, her tone a mix of relief and amusement.
Gwayne's eyes met hers, and he returned her smile. "Aye, Sansa. The deliberations were thorough, but you led the council with wisdom and grace."
Sansa's cheeks flushed slightly at his praise. "Thank you, Gwayne. Your support means a great deal to me."
He reached out and gently took her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "Your strength and dedication are inspiring, Sansa. The North is fortunate to have you as its queen."
The fondness in his voice sent a warmth through her heart. "And I am fortunate to have you by my side," she replied, her voice soft.
Their gazes held for a moment, a silent exchange of understanding and affection. Then, as if an unspoken agreement had passed between them, Gwayne leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
"I believe we have earned a moment to ourselves," he suggested, a playful glint in his eyes.
Sansa chuckled softly. "Indeed, we have." With a graceful motion, she led the way to her private study, a cosy room filled with books and comfortable chairs.
As they entered the room, Gwayne's arms encircled her, drawing her into a warm embrace. Their bodies pressed close, and Sansa felt a rush of contentment at the familiarity of his touch.
As the afternoon sun cast its warm glow into the room, Sansa found herself comfortably settled in Gwayne's lap. They were surrounded by scattered parchment, sketches, and notes, each representing a different idea for their upcoming wedding.
"Imagine the godswood adorned with silver ribbons," Gwayne mused, his fingers tracing the outline of a drawing. "And perhaps a tapestry depicting the story of House Stark, to honour your family's history."
Sansa nodded in approval. "That would be a beautiful touch. And we could have a ceremonial exchanging of vows beneath the heart tree."
He grinned. "With the old gods as our witnesses."
Their conversation flowed seamlessly, their ideas building upon each other as they shared their visions for the perfect day. There was a playful energy between them, a shared excitement that made their hearts race.
"And for the feast," Sansa said with a twinkle in her eye, "we must have a cake as grand as the Wall itself."
Gwayne laughed. "A cake that towers over the tables, adorned with intricate designs and sugar sculptures."
"And the minstrels," Sansa continued, her voice light-hearted. "I want songs that celebrate not just our union, but the unity of the North."
He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. "I have no doubt that the minstrels will compose ballads that echo through the generations."
Their banter continued, punctuated by shared laughter and stolen kisses. The room seemed to glow with their shared happiness, and Sansa couldn't help but revel in the warmth of Gwayne's embrace.
"You have a knack for making even the most daunting tasks feel like joyous celebrations," Gwayne said, his gaze fixed on her.
Sansa smiled, her heart swelling with affection. "It's easy when I'm with you, Gwayne. You bring light to even the darkest days."
Their eyes locked, a silent exchange of emotions passing between them. At that moment, surrounded by their wedding plans and the promise of their future, they were simply two people deeply in love.
Gwayne gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "I am blessed beyond measure to have you in my life, Sansa."
"And I am blessed to have you," Sansa replied, her voice soft but filled with conviction.
Their lips met in a lingering kiss, sealing their words with an unspoken promise. As they pulled back, their foreheads touched, their breaths intermingling.
"Shall we continue?" Gwayne asked, his voice a playful whisper.
Sansa chuckled, her fingers intertwined with his. "Indeed, we have a wedding to plan."
Originally, I had planned to make this chapter much longer and add another rather long scene, but because of the last chapter's length I decided to split it in two. With this first part as a "lore" chapter focusing on the political developments in the north and the next chapter as a pure, fluffy smut chapter.