authorsnote: more wedding, more sansa, more angst
do enjoy
songrecs: ready or not - mischa chillak (remix)
"Absolutely not"
No one had told her about this bit.
No one had told her she would need to swoop away from her marriage ceremony on dragon back, clinging to Jon and his dragon, his, not connected to her, not incentivized to keep her alive. Hadn't they been through this? Her stomach rolled as she remembered her previous one and only flight where she'd been convinced, she was going to plummet to her death no less than 23 times.
She didn't want to risk another flight and make number 24 the not so lucky one.
She supposed she should be glad of the distraction, as she and Jon stood in front of Ceraxes, bickering, almost normal, after such a surreal wedding ceremony … and how it had ended.
Exchanging vows of love, something they'd said no more on, after Jons new family had surrounded them in congratulations and headed for their own dragons, Jon taking her towards Ceraxes. There was no time to discuss how deeply things had shifted between them, how they were now wed and more.
There would be later.
Nerves fluttered in her belly at the thought, but different to those she felt when she looked upon Jons dragon.
"You know I can't go up there" She hissed, quite a far cry from the tender vows they'd exchanged, but then the fact she and Jon could still act normal around each other, that he laughed and offered her a grin oddly soothed something in her.
They were still them, and she didn't realise, until she smiled as Jon laughed how much she had needed that.
It didn't change her mind though.
"Sansa, you'll be fine" Jon said, soothingly, and yes if she were to believe anyone who said that, Jon would be the only one, but still she shook her head, ignoring a laugh she heard behind her; one of the Targaryens no doubt, like not wanting to hurtle through the skies on a temperamental creature was odd. She blamed inbreeding.
"No" She said, shook her head again, glanced at Ceraxes who was happily accepting a pet from Jon on his snout.
"Do you think I would ever let you fall?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, he got a glare in return.
"It's not up to you" She said with a nod at Ceraxes, whos he could swear was smirking … well, no, she knew dragons couldn't smirk, but he seemed to also be suggesting it wasn't up to Jon.
"It is" Jon said simply, and then he stepped forward, and held out both hands to her. She glanced, the other Targaryens were waiting for them, and though Sansa wanted to run for the cliff edge rather than do this, she knew then, looking at Jon who had the most earnest expression on his face, and his family who were waiting, expectant, she had little choice. Gods dammit.
"Don't let me fall" She said, her tone turning more to a squeak, Jon's appreciative smile didn't do much to bring her confidence up, but she took his hand, and let him lead her forward.
And only cursed death twice mid-flight, once at Jon when he laughed as she shrieked.
But, she didn't fall.
The next ceremony was one she'd lived through before. And somehow worse.
The Targaryen ceremony had been strange, but almost awe inspiring. She had never felt closer to Jon than in that moment, eye to eye, foreheads touching, completely wrapped up in one another, and though she now (back on solid ground) still felt a little nervous about what they'd exchanged, it had felt like a wedding should; a closeness between two people and nothing more.
It had almost felt like a wedding in Winterfell should, outside, the wind whistling around them, the open air embracing them. Hands clasped, a simple ceremony, focused on the marrying couple. She'd have preferred snow, and the Heart Tree and home, but this had felt closer to it, even the most foreign ceremony had been the most comforting.
But now they had to do the Southern part of it all, and this part of the wedding was not for them.
No, as they hurried back to the Keep, they could barely spare a glance before they were hurried away from one another, bathed and changed, rushed into separate carriages and driven to the Sept, not Baelors, not yet, but one just a touch smaller.
It could still hold over 100 nobles, and it did, members of the Court Sansa recognized and others she didn't. The people of Kings Landing lined the streets, cheering and cajoling one another to get closer, hoping for a glimpse of the Royal Family, of the new bride.
They all screamed for Sansa as she emerged and walked to meet Jon, the sounds only dulled as the doors to the Sept snapped shut behind her.
Their second wedding had began.
She was dressed in blue and silver this time, her families colours here, the Maiden cloak sweeping the floor, she couldn't be a Stark here but the connection to her Mother did soothe her. She was much more done up for this ceremony, all for show, a silver tiara had been woven into her hair, diamonds dripped at her wrists, sapphires at her neck, a showing of the Tully household, when their daughter would become a Princess, they had to prove their worth.
Her Father here held her arm as he walked her to Jon, and she once again felt a pang that Lord Stark would never walk her to her husband. Though she supposed he wouldn't be too happy about walking her to Jon.
Though she did remember his words, in this awful place, long ago, and far ahead …
'I'll find you someone who is worthy of you, someone brave, gentle and strong'
Wasn't that Jon simply summed up?
Panic tore her from her thoughts, as she was reminded of the last time she'd done this, walking towards Tyrion Lannister, surrounded by enemies, terrified for her life, terrified of everything. Remembered how scared and hopeless she had felt, how utterly and incredibly alone.
But then, her gaze met Jons, even purple eyed he was still Jon, as she reminded herself, and she felt the pounding of her heart ease, the fear that had started tingling up her spine wash away, and she smiled, nervously, because those memories would never go away, and in truth she wasn't sure she could ever fully heal from what had happened to her here, but with Jon, she could weather it.
And so, she met him at the end of the aisle, clasped his hands, and they were married before the Seven.
The ceremony flew over her head a little, it was vows she'd heard before, promises she'd once ignored but now knew she'd keep, it was a ceremony she nor Jon put any importance on, but the people screamed for them, Lords and Ladies bowed for them, and as the final words were spoken, Sansa's heart stuttered.
"With this kiss I pledge my love"
There had been no kiss on the cliffs, surrounded by dragons, blood dripping from their lips, no, only a meeting of themselves, quiet and lovely until the Valyrian Priest had clapped his hands and they had moved apart, now though Jon was leaning in, and the look in his violet gaze was asking if this was okay and she managed a quick nod.
And then Jon, her Jon, was kissing her.
And it was wonderful.
No, it was better than wonderful, it was magnificent.
If she'd had any doubts about what she'd been feeling for Jon before, even with all her nerves, and denial, and the worry that though they weren't brother and sister, they once had been and what did Jon think of that? But if she'd had any doubts about her own feelings they vanished as Jon leaned in, cupped her cheeks with his hands and kissed her.
It was gentle, it was sweet, it was … loving, she felt the slight brush of his lips before he kissed her more thoroughly, his lips weren't chapped, but she could feel the line of the cut she'd made, mirrored by her own he'd placed there, a little dip in his lip, she could taste a hint of blood from the unhealed cut, could taste him.
But what she noticed most was just how amazing it felt, how everything in her both eased, like slipping into a hot bath and feeling utter serenity and comfort, but was simultaneously lit up, like the bath were full of scalding water, that chased fire through her veins at the promise of more.
It was confusing, two such extreme emotions, but as she smiled into the kiss, she noted they were both emotions of happiness, and perhaps she was less confused, more overwhelmed.
She was kissing Jon and she liked it, she liked it a lot.
And when he broke away, she wasn't the only one smiling.
The applause was nothing in her ears as Jon took her hand and held it up, it meant nothing to her, instead her focus was on Jons face, on his smile, on his eyes, and the threat of drowning in them.
It was easy to ignore that surely the Seven had to disapprove of where they'd come from, of their family names, of the fact once they'd known each other as siblings. That was easy to pretend they couldn't see as they made their way back down the aisle, hand in hand, to the feast.
And then the bedding.
The feast itself was extravagant, as was everything in Kings Landing, but Sansa couldn't eat a bite.
For, the feelings of happiness, of being content, of something close to love, slowly but surely ebbed away, as the singers wrote ballads of their love, as people approached with gifts and kind words, as Jon didn't let go of her hand, not once, as they received congratulations after congratulations, they all ebbed away, to know what was coming.
To know what they would have to do.
Her feelings, that she hadn't even fully processed, that she wasn't entirely sure how Jon felt, they hadn't been able to talk about it, had it only been that morning? But all of that, paled for a moment in the face of the bedding, in the fact tonight she would be a maiden no more, and Jon would be responsible for that.
Would the Gods curse them for what they'd once thought they'd been? The guilt muted but still present, or had this been the Gods plan all along? After all they'd sent both of them here, not just Jon, hero as he was.
She hadn't even began to contemplate her role in this, and couldn't, not with Jon clutching her hand, not with the nerves, of not knowing what to do, of being nervous it was Jon and thankful it was, and just the general anxiety racing through her veins, her head a complex mess.
"To dance!" She flinched as someone called that, breaking her out of her thoughts, but she managed a smile as Jon grunted in annoyance, even a little giggle at that as she led him onto the dance floor, hand in hand, knowing he might not bother if she didn't, Jon was no dancer, but she still insisted, if at least for the distraction.
Or the fact this was her second wedding, and she'd never gotten to dance at one before.
She was taken by surprise as she went through the steps Jon was able to follow along, and his grace with a sword soon translated to the dance floor, and in minutes she was feeling lighter than air, which ordinarily she'd love, but in this instance just intensified the swooping sensation of nerves in her stomach, especially as he whirled her past couples cooing over them.
'Don't they make a lovely pair?'
'Beautiful truly'
'They will surely make lovely Princes and Princesses'
'I don't' know who I envy more'
"Sansa" Jons voice, usually so reassuring grounded her away from the whispers she'd surely been half imagining, and her gaze met his, and he offered her a kind smile, a Jon smile, reminding her this was Jon, just a better dancer than she'd imagined, but still Jon she was going through this with.
Though, if anything that heightened her nerves more, but for a different reason.
"Calm down" He leaned in to whisper in her ear, she felt a shiver up her spine but nodded, taking in his words, even as her nerves jumped again.
"I'm calm" She said, trembling then as she gripped Jons shoulders as he moved them into a slower number, and even she wasn't convinced. He wasn't either and he gave her a look that showed it.
"It's fine" He said kindly, and she managed a smile, nervous still. "You know I'd never ever hurt you"
"I know that of course" She said quickly, not wanting him at all to think that was what she was thinking, "I'm just nervous for .." She stumbled, and she knew her cheeks must be on fire, blushing right down to the bust of her blue dress, and the diamonds at her collar. "For …"
"I know" Jon said, and she could swear she saw a blush on his cheeks too, that helped her, she even managed a smile, "So am I"
"Have you …?" She asked, and that felt more like them, she wasn't sure why but it did.
"Yes" Jon said with a nod, ducked his head though, they were surrounded by couples on the dance floor now, swaying to gentle violin music, and he met her gaze again, "With one woman"
"Ygritte" Sansa said with a small smile, Jon had spoken of her only twice, but his nod confirmed it, confirmed who she had been, Sansa didn't feel jealous, how could she? That woman was long gone, in more ways than one, and any happiness she'd given Jon, Sansa was thankful for.
"Aye" Jon said with a nod, "I won't hurt you" He insisted, and she nodded again, somehow him saying it out loud and her affirming it helped, even though she'd already known it.
"I know"
And she did.
Though that didn't stop her from trembling as people called for the bedding, the two were swept away to Jons chambers that would be theirs from now on, but first.
The door behind them snapped shut, they were alone, and the bed loomed.
"I know you won't hurt me" She whispered, and Sansa in a moment of rare boldness, even as her hands shook, stepped forward first.
I wanted a few snippets of the wedding, a shorter chapter but necessary, next the bedding and more jon
I hope you're enjoying jonsa, it won't always be sunshine
do review if you can! I love your thoughts always.