The maiden cloak which had been made for Ygritte was interesting to say the least. Unconventional, yet it reflected her status as one of the Free Folk. It was made from a patchwork of furs turned inside out, which they oft wore, designed for practicality and warmth as opposed to making a statement of power.
Sansa had ensured Ygritte understood her ideas of dressing would have to change as a Lady. But Sansa wasn't an idiot. Forcing such a change in someone who has lived out in the wilds for so long would be unrealistic.
An entire new wardrobe had been constructed for the future Lady Ygritte. Not dresses like Sansa wore. Instead, her wardrobe was based upon the style Daenerys wore. She might have hated the woman, but she couldn't deny how she dressed was practical (when she wasn't wearing the silly furs).
Sansa herself had taken to wearing breeches under her gown for warmth, and sometimes wore a long coat instead of a dress to ensure her skirts didn't get muddy. It saved on the amount of soapwort the washerwomen used to clean their clothes if the skirts weren't as dirty.
With some encouragement, Ygritte decided breeches and a smart coat were a practical mix for the time-being. After all, for Ygritte this was the south and was warm compared to what she was used to.
The wedding dress was a different matter. It was made from a silver and grey wool. Plain and simple but beautiful. It would match both her maiden cloak and the Theon's cloak, which would make her his wife in the eyes of the old gods, despite them already being married the Free Folk way, much to the distaste of her mother. Although Sansa found it quite romantic. She wouldn't mind having Jon steal her away in the dead of night.
The wedding would take place just after sunset, ensuring an early evening feast. Their first war council would be held the following afternoon. This would give them time to clear their heads. The council would be based on theoretical allies as they were awaiting word from Arya.
Before any of that could take place, Sansa, her mother, and Gilly had to ready Ygritte for her big day, much to the discontent of the bride to be. A bath had been laid out for her containing vanilla oil in the water and almond oil for her hair.
Sansa and Gilly helped her bathe, despite Ygritte complaining she was quite capable of bathing herself. Once she was scrubbed till she glowed and glowered red, Sansa and Gilly dried her off and sat her by the fire to dry her hair.
"Do I have to go through all of this as a Lady?" she asked.
Sansa shook her head and smiled. "Only when you marry and at you coronation if you became Queen."
"I won't become a Queen will I?"
"No," Sansa replied. "If we win this war, I will become a Queen and Jon will be King."
Gilly left to go check on Little Sam, leaving her alone with Ygritte.
"I don't know how to do this," Ygritte admitted.
"Do what?"
"Be a Lady. You make it look easy. I know how to fight, make weapons, catch and skin meat. This is all," she waved her hand in the air, "foreign."
"Do your clans have a hierarchy? A leader, someone in charge?" Sansa clarified after Ygritte gave an initial look of confusion.
"Aye, some. Some clans have clan mothers, others have magnars. Mance is in charge of a hundred thousand Free Folk."
"Think of yourself as a clan mother. It is your job to take care of the smallfolk. The way to do that is to take care of the castle. But you'll have help. Jon won't leave you to fend for yourself, neither will my father. And I'm certain Theon will help. He's been trained how to run a castle. You have good common sense. If you have to sit in for Theon to listen to the smallfolk and their disputes, just use your common sense." Sansa decided it was time to ease Ygritte's concerns.
"How about some wine, I have a Dornish red or an arbor gold."
"I'll go with the arbor gold. That friend of yours is Dornish. Great with a spear, but smells funny."
Sansa laughed as she poured them both a goblet of wine.
"He comes from the south. They have different spices down there. He brought some with him and puts them into his food to make it more to his liking. The wine doesn't have spices. And those spices do taste nice in food."
"You lot already put too much funny stuff in your food."
Sansa laughed. "Salt and herbs?"
"Aye, if that's what you call em. Meat needs no flavours. Salt is to make sure it lasts."
"We need to brush your hair as it dries," Sansa changed the topic of conversation. "It needs to look nice for tonight. You're a beautiful woman. Let them see how lucky Theon was."
"Alright. Make me look pretty."
Sansa got to work. Once Ygritte's hair was dry, Sansa braided the sides and wrapped it around her head, leaving the back loose. She handed Ygritte a sliver box.
"This is a wedding gift from Jon and I. Something to wear with your dress.'
Ygritte opened the box. Inside was a stunning pearl necklace. As soon as Sansa found out about Theon and Ygritte, she had written to Lord Manderly to find the finest jeweller in White Harbor and commission a necklace. Sansa had even included a sketch of what she wanted. Ygritte looked at it in confusion.
"Why do you women kneelers wear shiny stones?"
"They symbolise power. To be able to afford such stones, you must be rich and powerful. It sends a message to your rivals."
"What kind of message."
Ygritte was confused, and Sansa could understand why. Throwing a wildling into the game of thrones was asking for trouble. Sansa sat next to her.
"These are saltwater pearls. A jewel from the sea. Theon is a Greyjoy and will be Jon's admiral of the seas. Different houses choose different items to represent their house. The Lannisters use gold. If you were from Tarth, it would be sapphires, because it is called the sapphire isle." Sansa choked back the memories of Brienne, who was executed in this lifetime for the murder of Renly Baratheon.
"What about house Stark and house Tagryen?"
"House Targaryen are associated with rubies. House Stark is associated with blue winter roses."
"So not always stones?"
"No," Sansa shook her head. "Although we are really associated with our wolves."
Ygritte nodded. "Well, I suppose I should wear it."
"Thank you," Sansa said, fastening the necklace.
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Gilly returned to help dress Ygritte, and Sansa went back to her chambers to get herself ready for the wedding. As she considered how beautiful Ygritte looked, for she looked like a true Lady, she felt a stab of jealousy. She wondered how Jon would react. Ygritte had been his first love. Would he be attracted to her again now that Ygritte looked like the Lady she was about to become? Did he ever imagine Ygritte dressed as a proper Lady.
Sansa knew Ygritte had wanted Jon in this lifetime. Regardless of her wedding vows to Theon, did the wildling still harbour affections towards her husband? Would she try to bed him now she looked the part? How would Jon react if Ygritte tried to seduce him?
Sansa had worked herself up, and was almost in tears when Jon entered the room. He walked over to her and stood behind her, staring at their reflection in the mirror. The smile he'd had on his face turned to a frown when he noticed the tension in Sansa's jaw. He placed his hands on her shoulders and rubbed them.
"What is it?" he asked. "You look upset about something."
Sansa shook her head. "It's nothing."
Jon knelt before her, took her hands in his and gazed at her. "I can tell something is amiss, Sansa. What is it?"
The earnest look on Jon's face made Sansa feel like a fool for even contemplating her irrational thoughts. But they had promised to be honest with one another, therefore she told him.
"Ygritte looks beautiful. Like a real Lady," Sansa hoped that would prompt Jon. However, he looked confused by her statement.
"I'm sure Theon will be pleased."
"And you?"
Jon furrowed his brow. "What about me?"
"She was your first love. Didn't you ever wish to see her looking like a Lady?"
"Is that what this is about? Whether I still feel any attraction towards Ygritte?" Jon asked and Sansa bit her bottom lip, before giving him a small nod.
"She's beautiful, she is strong… she has red hair."
Jon laughed at her. "Comparing Ygritte to you is like comparing the Nights Watch ale to the finest wine," he kissed her palm, and then her wrist, tickling her. "I am wed the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros. She is funny, smart, and every now and again, she lets me warm her bed. I am not worthy of her," Sansa blushed at the compliment. "Oh, and I forget one thing. She is the greatest lover in all of Westeros, in my learned opinion. And as King, it is my word which counts."
"Jon," she slapped him on the bicep, feeling most embarrassed by his wanton words.
"And as soon as the feast is part over, we will have an early night. I want to make sure my wife knows exactly how much I love her."
Jon ran his calloused thumb along her cheekbone, before pulling her face to his and placing a gentle kiss on her lips.
"Thank you, Jon," Sansa pressed her forehead against his. "I love you."
"I say we best ready ourselves," Jon stood. "Try not to outshine the bride. But you'd probably do that wearing just a hessian sack," he japed.
"I think it is a little chilly for a hessian sack," she said, running a brush through her hair. "How is Blizzard?"
"He knows something is happening in the Godswood. He wishes to watch."
"Will that be safe?" Sansa asked.
"Aye, I can control him with my mind if needs be. I think he is more curious than anything. Best enjoy it while we can. Once he's visited Valyria, he'll be a different dragon."
"How long before he leaves?" Sansa was worried about the baby dragon, she'd gotten used to him being around.
"As soon as he is strong enough to fly the distance. He is already trying to take to the skies. It won't be long before he is strong enough. A moon at the most," Jon squeezed her shoulders before heading towards the hearth to undress in front of the fire.
"I've decided upon Lord Manderly continuing with the eastern boat-building for the time-being," Jon said, changing the subject once more.
"I thought you were considering giving Theon the Dreadfort," Sansa turned and frowned, watching Jon put on his clean black breeches.
"It would be inappropriate, whilst Roose Bolton is alive. I also think Lord Manderly might be offended if I took the contract away from him. White Harbor is flourishing from the additional income. I wish to keep it that way."
"What are you going to do?"
"There's a fishing village south of Deepwood Motte on the Stony Shore. I want to set up a western naval force."
"That will mean he has to go up against the Ironborn."
"Against Euron, you mean. There is no love lost between Euron and Theon. I think it might be the only way for Asha to consider our cause. If the western navy and the shunned Ironborn fight together, we might be able to rid ourselves of Euron before he becomes ensconced in the fight for the Iron Throne."
Sansa wasn't comfortable with his idea. It had merits, but Theon might feel sidelined, despite it being the most strategically important point for them. To take the Iron Throne, they needed Asha to help them with the Iron Islands, and she knew Jon wasn't convinced Theon's sister would help them. The woman was too prideful for that. She also hated house Stark for taking Theon. He help was unlikely. "There are no nearby castles."
"How long did it take to fix Queenscrown?"
"Longer than they have."
"Men will be sent to build the shipyard and castle. Building one from scratch will be quicker than the refurbishments Queenscrown needed. It doesn't need to be as large as Queenscrown. Once I'm on the Iron Throne, I will give them something a little grander."
When do you intend to announce it?" Sansa asked.
"On the morrow, during the small council meeting. The group will be small enough for Theon to register his unhappiness should he not want to take up the offer."
"We can only hope he does," Sansa sighed, happy with the braid in her hair. She stood. "Will you help me with my gown?"
Jon smirked. "Of course. Practice now will make it easier to take off later."
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The Godswood looked beautiful as Tormund led Ygritte towards Theon. Even the wild, red-haired wildling had been tamed. His beard had been trimmed and his hair was tied back to contain its unruly nature. He wore grey breeches, which he kept fidgeting with, a tunic and grey leather doublet with a cloak made from inside-out furs.
Lanterns lit the way to the heart tree, reminiscent of Sansa's wedding to Ramsay. However, today was a happier event as the couple were willing participants in the marriage. Once Ygritte reached Theon, sporting a black eye from the previous evening, was dressed in a dark blue. His cloak in a matching colour with a light grey kraken. These were different colours to his house, which was a gold kraken on a black background. However, Theon's house was a new branch of Greyjoy, and required a new sigil.
Sansa clung to Jon, who looked resplendent dressed in his Targaryen cloak, while she wore grey, with a combination of weirwood leaves embellishments and dragons sewn around the hem of her dress.
As Ygritte met with Theon, Jon whispered into Sansa's ear. "You are a thousand times more beautiful than Ygritte. Both inside and outside. I love you." Sansa glanced up at him. The look of love in his eyes could have melted the snow all around her.
"Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" Septon Chayle called out.
"Ygritte, of the Free Folk, comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?" Tormund replied.
Theon stepped forward. "Theon, of House Greyjoy. High Admiral to King Aegon VI. Who gives her?"
Tormund of the Free Folk."
"Ygritte, do you take this man?"
Ygritte faced Theon and smiled. "I take this man."
They turned and faced the heart tree, knelt and offered prayers, hoping for the blessings of the old gods.
The wedding should have been of the old gods. However, Septon Chayle insisted of a pared down Faith of the Seven ceremony. He had refused to officiate the wedding if this didn't take place. His agreement was needed to send the marriage agreement to the Citadel. As Theon would be a high-ranking individual and a Lord, his marriage must not be contested in the eyes of the law. Therefore, they agreed.
"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection," Septon Chayle told them.
Theon undid Ygritte's cloak and handed it to Tormund. He then removed his own and placed it around Ygritte's shoulders and fastened it. Theon and Ygritte stood side by side holding hands for the rest of the ceremony.
"Let it be known that Theon of House Greyjoy and Ygritte of the Free Folk, are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder," Septon Chayle said as he tied a grey ribbon in a knot around their joined hands. "In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity," he concluded the ribbon ceremony.
"Look upon each other and say the words," Septon Chayle commanded.
Theon and Ygritte turned to one another.
"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger…" they said simultaneously.
"I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days," Theon recited.
Simultaneously, Ygritte said her own vows. "I am his, and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days."
"With this kiss I pledge my love," Theon said, leaning in and placed a passionate kiss her on Ygritte's lips. It appeared to be a little too passionate for the poor Septon Chayle.
"Ahem," he coughed as Theon and Ygritte parted.
A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd. Theon picked Ygritte up, much to her displeasure.
"Put me down," she squealed.
"It is the only time I get to do this," Theon argued back, as he prepared to carry her to the Great Hall.
Everyone turned as screech echoed through the woods. Blizzard emerged through the trees like like a ghost. Sansa could have sworn he had since she saw him that morning. He sounded different too. What was more of a squeal the day before, was now closer to a roar. If Sansa hadn't known Blizzard, she would have been terrified.
Blizzard was stood in a clearing, far enough away from the trees to do any damage. The dragon must have purposely decided this was the right spot, as he lifted his head up and a stream of red flames lit up the sky. Sansa turned to Jon, who looked to be concentrating on something.
Moments later, Blizzard disappeared into the darkness, and Jon's face relaxed.
"Did you do that?" Sansa whispered.
Jon smirked. "Aye. I thought it was only right they got a full Targaryen blessing."
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The feast passed without incident. Jon and Sansa retired early, for they wanted some private time of their own. They also had a busy day planned. Jon was planning to find a new home for Blizzard, as well as a small council meeting. This meant they needed to make an early start.
Jon and Sansa were almost ready when there was a knock on the door.
"Come in," Jon called out.
Much to the surprise of both Jon and Sansa, Maester Luwin entered the room.
"Your graces," he bowed his head.
Sansa's heart dropped to her stomach. Maester Luwin wouldn't have knocked this early if it wasn't urgent. And only if it were bad news.
"Maester Luwin," Jon replied. "How can we help you?"
"New from Queenscrown," he said.
"What of it?" Sansa asked.
"I'm afraid there has been an accident. Lord Brandon has had a fall. He was knocked out and has yet to wake."
Sansa's put her hand over her mouth. She wondered if was history repeating itself. Jon rushed over to her and placed his arm around her shoulder.
"When was the raven sent?" he asked.
"Three days ago, your grace. The weather was poor on the first day, therefore the rave took longer than usual."
"Does the raven say how long he had been unconscious?" Sansa asked, the rational side of her brain kicking in.
"A day, your grace."
"Do mother and father know?"
"Lord and Lady Stark are awaiting you in Lord Stark's solar." Maester Luwin replied.
"Tell them we'll be there in a few minutes," Jon said.
"Of course, your grace," Maester Luwin bowed his head before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.
Sansa turned to Jon. "Do you think it is fate? Is it the calling of the Three-Eyed-Raven?"
Jon sucked in a deep breath. "Who knows? We need to find out what more was said in the raven. Let us hope it is not as severe as last time. Remember, we all returned with pains related to how we died."
"You think the Bran from our last life will be the one who comes back? Gods, mother will be devastated," tears formed in Sansa's eyes and sobbed. Jon put his arms around her.
"It may only be a minor fall. For all we know, he might be awake by now. Come, dry your eyes and we will see what the raven says for ourselves. It might mean more to us than Maester Luwin. We know what happened in the past," he held his hand out for her.
Sansa wiped away her tears and blew her nose on the handkerchief, before washing her face in the water basin to ease her puffy eyes. She rolled her shoulders back and stood straight.
"Come, dear husband. Let us learn what we can of our brother's health."