authorsnotes: this chapter was weirdly emotional to write, I hope you enjoy it
follow/fav, review etc, I always love your reviews!
songrecs: breathin - ariana grande (shameless plug - I have a sansa/jon oneshot called 'breathin', go check it if you like!)
Back in her chambers, alone and hidden from the endless parade of people, only then did she weep.
But before that, as she'd crumpled in Aegon's arms, fallen apart like a flower with wilted leaves, she'd taken far too long to compose herself, far too long.
Only his hand on her back, offering gentle round strokes, only his murmured assurances, 'It's okay, you're okay Sansa, I'll make sure of it', only those managed to calm her down, her tears turning to hiccups, and then a nod as he asked, 'Better?', and then her gaze on the floor, her cheeks paling as she thought of how to escape.
Tyrion's arrival had saved her, a quick curtsey, and she'd hurried away before anyone could stop her, had walked at a brisk pace (Ladies didn't run), before she was back safety in her room (borrowed room), door closed quickly, chair pushed against it, the bed inviting and welcome, as she'd flopped down and allowed the tears to flow again.
For she hadn't stopped not really, not for a while.
Perhaps once she'd ran out of tears, when the pain had been so heavy in her stomach, when her chest had felt so tight, she was sure she was dying, when her hands had shaken and her eyes had felt so worn it was a wonder they didn't bleed, maybe then she'd stopped crying, used to the feeling of emptiness, maybe then she'd had a reprieve.
Otherwise, she'd never stopped, not really, the tears on her face fresh, but not new.
She had been a fool, a fool to come back here, not just because this might be the most rotten place in the world, but also because of what it had done to her, what he had done to her.
Aegon had made her want to stay, and she hated him for it.
She couldn't stay, she didn't belong here, she belonged in the North with crisp snow and the cold on her cheeks, with Winterfell, the Stark banner flying high, she belonged with a thick fur cloak on her shoulders, boots trudging through slush, safe in the snow, far away from the treachery of the South.
She didn't belong here.
And yet Aegon did.
And there in was the problem, out of the two of them she was the only one able to move, Aegon was bound to Kings Landing, as its King it would be his seat, there was no choice for him there.
Yet, it felt like there was no choice for her either, she wasn't sure she could survive the South again, not a second time.
Yes, she knew things would be different under Aegon's rule, no Lannister's for one, but Sansa knew they may have been the heart of her problem, but they weren't the heart of the problem. Other schemers would fill the void they'd left, the same with Littlefinger, liars and manipulators who wanted to play the game, who wanted power, they'd always be present, always be a fixture as long as there was an Iron Throne.
Sansa didn't want to play the game, she knew she could, she just didn't want to.
All she had wanted, begged for, pleaded to the Gods for when she had been a captive, both in Kings Landing and the Eyrie, all she had asked for was peace, freedom to run home to the North, and live a quiet life, in her homeland with the scent of winter roses on the air, alone and quiet.
But, as she sat up, her skirts around her, hands clenched into fists, tears fresh on her cheeks, eyes red raw, she did have to pause, she knew what her life in Kings Landing would be, as Aegon's Queen, she'd be thrust right back onto the chessboard, right back into the heart of the politics and cunning, there was no doubt in that.
But of the North? Would her life be the quiet paradise she had so dreamed?
Jon would be King, and the comfort that gave her was second to none, she knew Aegon would be a good King, could see it in him, but Jon would be better for their people, for the North. He understood them, knew them, and she knew he'd take the burden seriously. They'd always joked as children oh how he brooded, but now that sense of responsibility would be a strength.
Then, what would her place be?
She knew Jon wouldn't marry her off, but what of his advisors? Insistent Lords and Bannermen? Sansa even had to acknowledge the Stark line was looking mighty thin, Jon would need to marry and have heirs, Bran was unable and Rickon still a boy, Arya was still missing, their line looked weak, and Sansa knew marrying her off both for an alliance and to birth Stark cousins would be insisted upon by the Northern Lords.
She didn't doubt Jon, knew he'd protect her, but even she knew it would be expected.
And was that what she wanted?
The flare of panic that rose up in her was hard to push down, no, she didn't want that, to be married to a stranger, sent away, and used. Cersei's words flashed to mind…
'Sold like a brood mare'
Her nails dug into her palms, that was not what Sansa wanted, nor could she handle.
But if she stayed here…
There would be Aegon and Aegon alone for her, and that… that didn't make her panic, that made her almost smile through the tears.
Gods be good, how she wished Aegon could be in the North with her, the best of both worlds.
But then when had the Gods been good to her?
A knock on the door interrupted that train of thought.
To her relief, it was Jon.
It wasn't that she didn't want to see Aegon, but her mind was so confused she didn't want to face him right now. It was like a war inside of her, her wants and needs so at odds it was like a game of tug of war they'd used to play as children, leaving her with a headache, and no further to an answer.
And she noted as she answered the door, she might be getting ahead of herself, did Aegon like her?
Trying to ignore her insecurities, Littlefingers words came to mind again…
'Learn to read a man, his eyes, his language, his body, his smile, and you'll know what he wants and intends before he even does'
Yes, she knew her insecurities were clouding her judgement, she knew Aegon wanted her, liked her even, he was a good man, and his kiss had tasted like joy, she didn't doubt his intentions, what he wanted from her.
'Men only want one thing from a pretty girl'
Aegon didn't, she was sure, he wanted more, and part of her did too, the other part wanted to flee North and never return, and there was the issue.
"Sansa" His tone was kind, and Sansa knew why, her eyes were rimmed red, and as she stepped back to let him in, the first thing he did was pull her into his arms.
Where she was safe.
No more tears came, just barely held at bay, but she leaned into Jon, her brother, regardless of blood, she had been a fool to ignore him as a child, she was just thankful they had now, and had each other.
And yet, she was contemplating a decision that would see them apart again, and her apart from Bran and Rickon, how could she even consider it?
But she was, the truth of it was there in her heart, with Aegon's kiss, his murmured reassurances that had calmed her, her hand in his as she'd walked up the steps, she wasn't just considering it, it was there, it was real, and hard to ignore.
"Are you alright?" He asked as he stepped back to look at her, and she managed a nod, she wasn't alright, not really, and they both knew it.
"We'll be home soon" He promised, and the reassurance that offered her was not as deep as she had hoped, home was Winterfell, and yet the promise to return did not give her the relief she had so hoped.
It was fading, and Aegon was taking its place.
She was such a fool, she never should have agreed to come South, should have run home the second Jon had liberated her and refused to look back. She should have braved dragon back to get their quicker, should have got to the Neck, fallen to her knees, and vowed never to go below it again. She shouldn't have allowed herself the opportunity to doubt it.
As a child she had wanted nothing more than to go South, for years now she had wanted nothing more than to return home, now she was somewhere in the middle.
"Jon I…" She paused, biting down on her lip, "I wish I hadn't come here"
Jon's expression was sad then and she felt a tug of guilt, Jon just wanted to protect her, took it seriously, she shouldn't burden him with her own issues, she needed to get her walls back up, the walls of ice she'd forced into place to protect herself.
'Never let them see you, never'
Littlefinger again, his advice burned like a brand on her mind.
"I was surprised you did" Jon said, and she smiled at that, Jon wouldn't offer silly platitudes, he was honest to his core, "Do you want me to take you home? We don't have to stay a second longer" And there it was, Jon would always act rather than dither, it was why he'd make such a good King.
And a good King he would be, she had no doubt, she should be by his side, a Princess of Winterfell, of the North, helping him rule, helping their people.
Though the idea of it didn't bring her such joy as it once had, not when she thought of what she'd be leaving.
Gods, she'd never been so torn or confused, never.
"I don't know" She said honestly, and though part of her screamed at herself to be quiet, to defend herself, to bring up those walls and not let them fall, she trusted Jon more than any other, and so she kept talking, "I don't know if I want to go home at all"
And that was the truth.
"What do you mean?" Jon asked, and the concern had crept into his voice, but once again he was honest, clear, and there were no empty platitudes or fussing, and that she liked.
"I…" She stumbled then, not so eloquent when she didn't need to be, "I want to return to Winterfell almost more than anything, it is home, with you and Bran, Rickon, but …"
Then it came to her.
Did she belong in Winterfell anymore?
It wasn't just about Aegon, about his smile, his kiss, the love she could imagine would grow for him. It wasn't just about him, there was something else, something else she hadn't even recognised until now, smothered between her desire to go home, and her want to stay with Aegon, something that almost smacked her in the face as she realised it.
Winterfell may have been home to her, it still was in many ways, but what if it wasn't where she belonged anymore?
She was much changed, she knew that, not just her looks, with age her beauty blossoming continually, but her mind, her attitude, herself. Sansa Stark was a different person to when she'd left Winterfell, almost entirely.
Gone was the girl who'd believed in good, who had longed to watch the tourneys and the Knights, gone was the girl that was naïve, pretty and smiling, so sure that everyone was kind and righteous. Gone was even the girl who'd lost all of that, whimpering and cowardly in Kings Landing. Gone was the girl who'd learnt some survival methods, courtesies in place, a deep curtsey and polite words. Gone was Alayne, gone was the child of the North.
In her place was someone else, someone who retained a little bit of Sansa Stark, her love of snow, her love for her family, her joy in the North, even a hint of her old self swooning for Aegon, but mostly replacing her was Sansa Stark, the woman who'd been tutored by some of the ruthless players in the game, the woman who would not show mercy, who'd wished Cersei Lannister well to her death, who if was Queen would be ruthless and cold by her Kings side.
Could Winterfell have her now?
"Sansa?" Jon's calling to her broke through her introspection, and she had the manners to blush at her mind wandering off before she drew pale again as she completed her earlier words.
"I don't know if I belong there anymore" And that was the truth.
"And where do you belong then?" Jon asked, worry colouring his voice now, and yet he let her speak, no protest … yet.
"I'm not sure" Sansa said in truth, because she didn't, part of her still belonged in Winterfell, another maybe in Kings Landing, but the rest of her? She didn't yet know.
"But I need to find out" She said honestly, nodding her head, "I want to flee North, almost all of me does, but I can't"
"Sansa…" Jon said then, worry still clear in his tone, "Don't you want to come home?" He sounded concerned then, took her hands in his, and she met his gaze, his Stark grey gaze, and it near broke her heart. "With me? With Bran and Rickon? Away from the South? The Southerners?" His disdain almost made her laugh, prompted a smile from her, but also a shake of her head.
"More than anything" She said truthfully, because the burn to go North was still there, still thrummed in her bones, but … "But that doesn't mean I should"
"Then where?" He asked, and Sansa loved him for that, for his concern, but also for him letting her make her own choices, spoken from a man who'd rarely had the opportunity to do so himself. "Where Sansa? You need to be safe; I can't leave you like this"
"I'll be safe" Sansa said with a nod, and that she was sure of, "You have a duty to our people brother" She emphasised the last word, because he still was, to her, always, "But I need to figure out where I belong"
"You belong in the North" He said fiercely, and she smiled then, even leaned forward squeezing his hands in her own.
"I did once" She said, and tears near choked at her throat, for her to realise it, she once had, maybe now she didn't. "I don't know any more though"
"How will you know if you don't try it?" He asked.
"I will come home, soon" She said, and it was true, the thought of never returning made her near feel sick, she would come home, to see her brothers, to see the North, but first, "But first I must stay here"
"You hate it here Sansa" Jon said with a shake of his head, "And for good reason"
"I do" She said with a nod, and then she said what she hadn't wanted to say, what felt wrong to say, and yet with what had happened to her, what had been done to her, what she had seen, might be the truth, a truth she'd been avoiding, but had come to her so clearly it could no longer be ignored…
"But I might belong here"
so thoughts?
poor sansa ;-; but development continues...
next chapter will be LONG, I've already started it and we'll be moving the plot along, though sansa's introspection will continue
speak soon