Chapter Text

Cat I

December 290 AC

This was the first time in over a week since she was able to leave her chambers. She still felt drained, uncomfortable, achy and overall sickly, but she was improving and her eldest needed her. I won’t lose another child. 

Catelyn still felt numb. Her precious baby boy had not even reached his first name day. Bran was the first of the Shark’s to come down with the sickness that was ravaging the north. She had held him in her arms when he slipped from this world. The Seven did not seem to answer her prayers when it came to saving her baby. 

Overcome with grief and her own battle with the illness left her unable to do anything other than stay in bed. But yesterday her sickness started to elevate. The Maester said that she still needed bed rest, but with Ned now sick, her children could not wait for her to fully recover. 

Everyone of the Stark’s got sick, even the Greyjoy, everyone but the Bastard. 

Before she could go to Robb she needed to see her other children. She went to check on her eldest daughter first. Luwin told her that Sansa seemed to be on the road to recovery, she no longer had an extremely high fever and her chills were lessening. Cat poked her head in after cracking the door open. The fire was roaring and her girl was under the covers. She creeped in and laid her hand on Sansa’s forehead. She did not feel like she was burning, which is what one would feel like when going through the worst of the sickness. Cat pushed some stray hair out of her face before quietly backing out and closed the door softly. 

Next she went to her wild daughter. Arya was said to be in the same condition as her sister. When Cat entered the room she noticed the fire getting a little low. She could not find it in herself to get too mad at the servants working in the castle. Everyone in Winterfell was affected by what was happening. She quickly decided to just fix the fire herself, there was not much for her to do to elevate the sickness other than just make sure that Arya is as comfortable as possible. She put another log into the fire and prodded it to get the flames back up. Quickly checking Arya’s forehead. It was the same as Sansa’s. 

Quietly she swept out of the room. She knew that Robb was the one that needed her the most. Luwin told her as much. She traveled down the hall as fast as she could in her condition. She swiftly entered the room and felt the warmth that permeated the space. That was good, at least the servants were taking care of those who required the most hel p. She fully entered the room and came to an abrupt stop. 

The Boy was in here. The Bastard had a chair pulled up next to Robb’s bed. He did not even seem to have noticed that she walked into the room. Cat could not help herself in observing him. 

“Shhh it is going to be ok Robb. I am just going to put this cold cloth on your head like Luwin showed me.” 

Catelyn noticed the bucket as he bent down in the chair to retrieve a cloth from it. On the lip of the bucket were a few more rags. He pulled out a piece of cloth, wrung it out, and softly laid it on Robb. 

Robb mumbled something that Cat could not make out. The boy leaned down to better understand what her son was saying.Her child looked so weak. After a moment the boy straightened up and replied to whatever Robb said to him. 

“You will get better Robb. We will be outside playing in no time, you will see. I checked in on Arya and Sansa earlier today and they were getting better. Your mother has also started to really recover. You will see, you will get better too.” Catelyn could hear his voice waver a few times during his speech. He was barely containing his emotions. He quickly reached up to swipe at his eyes before returning his hands to his lap. 

His words shocked her. It seemed the Bastard had been visiting all of her children. Taking care of and caring for them even. She had no idea that this was happening under her roof. This is not the actions of a vile bastard. 

Cat shook herself from this line of thinking and walked further into the room. As she crossed to the far side ro Robb’s bed she pulled up the other chair that was in his room. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the child tense up and stare at her. He was undoubtedly waiting for her to say something to him, but she did not have the energy. All she did was sit down next to her son.

“Robb honey, can you hear me?” All she got back was a short mumble from him. “Don’t worry baby I am here, you will get better soon, I promise.”

But Catelyn knew she did not sound convincing with her declaration. Robb was extremely pale and was shaking. When she removed the cloth to feel his head, it felt like a hearth.

They spent the next hour or so in Robb’s room tending to him in their own ways. The Bastard would swap out the cloths and she would adjust the bedding to make him more comfortable. She normally would have mended clothes or created a seven pointed prayer star. But she did not have the materials with her, much less the energy it took to do either. 

She was currently praying to the mother when she noticed that the child started to move up to check on Robb. 

“Hey Robb, can you hear me? Robb?” The boy leaned over even more, putting a hand to her son’s head then dropping it to his nose and mouth. Catelyn was frozen as she watched him check to see if her baby boy was…

“L-Lady St-Stark, I think.. I think..” he was starting to hiccup as sobs started to come tumbling out of him. Then she shot out of her chair.

“Robb, baby, do you hear me? Sweetheart? Please Robb, do you hear me?!?” She checked for air under his nose. Nothing. She moved to his neck for his pulse. Nothing. The boy grabbed his brother’s arm and was sobbing into his shoulder. Gut wrenching sobs.

“Robb please, please, please. Robb baby, please!” She was desperate, she could not lose another child. Not again, not when she was just starting to get better so she can take care of her children. 

The door was flung open, Maester Luwin immediately went to the side of the bed. Catelyn froze once again as she watched him check over her son, waiting for him to show his expertise and prove to her that her child was fine. 

When Luwin turned away from her son to look at her. Cat could see the tears in his eyes. “My Lady, I am afraid to say-“ he never finished his sentence. Catelyn let out an inhuman howl as grief and agony exploded out from where her heart was. She grabbed onto Robb and buried her head into the blankets on his chest. 

She wailed until her throat could no longer make a sound. 

—-----------------------

The next 2 days turned out to be a blur for Catelyn.

The numbness that followed Bran’s death was now replaced by the raw pain at losing another child. This was all her fault, she should have been there for her children. She could have helped comfort and take care of them. She should have done something.

And now it seemed like she would be losing her husband too. She wanted to just wake up from this horrible nightmare. She wanted to wake up, go down the great hall and break her fast with her family. 

Instead she was sitting next to Ned as the Maester attended to him as best he could. She felt too drained to be going through another death. But it appeared that her gods had abandoned her.

“Maester did you send out the letters?” Ned’s voice sounded so frail. His fever did not break after a few days like Sansa, Arya and her own had done a few days after they first had it. Maester Luwin had told them both what this would likely mean. Cat did not know how Ned was able to get his things in order when he was facing his own mortality. After losing 2 children.

“Yes I did my lord. I sent out the ravens you asked of me, including the ones naming Sansa as your heir. Her health along with Arya’s continue to improve. I would say 2 more days before I am ok with them leaving their chambers.”

“Good, that is very good.” Ned was forced to stop talking as a fit of coughs overcame him. Once he stopped, Cat handed him a cup of water. He greedily drank from the cup before continuing.

“And Jon? Is he still doing fine?”

“Yes he appears to still be unaffected by the illness. He has continued to be a great help to me. He has been a bigger help to me than anyone else during this time. He spends more time with the sick than even I do. He has no fear of contracting it”

“It must be his blood that keeps him safe.” Ned whispers this last part, seemingly to himself, but she hears him. Resentment flares up inside of Catelyn. But it leaves her fairly quickly. Cat had witnessed firsthand the true nature of the Bastard. He cared deeply for his siblings. He was able to take care of others when she was unable to. She had found him asleep a few times in a chair next to one of her daughter’s bedsides a few times now. All it had taken was losing half of her children for her to see the light.

“My Lord, I must recommend you get some sleep. You have been fighting sleep for too long now trying to get things in order.” Ned just nodes. He shifts his position on the bed so he is laying flatter. Cat pulls the furs up so they are covering him a little more. He is asleep the very next moment.

Catelyn decides to make one last round to check up on her daughters before she will retire for the night. She steps out into the hall and makes her way over to Sansa’s door due to it being the closest one.

Cat opens the door slowly and deliberately to try and keep it from making any noise. She opens it up part of the way, allowing for her to halfway step through the doorway. The boy is sitting with his left shoulder facing Catelyn. In his lap is a book that is immediately recognizable to her. It is a book that contains different stories and poems about gallant knights and their fair ladies. Kings and Queens beloved by their people who they help. Stories where the heroes always win and the people are happy. A sharp contrast to what is happening inside the walls of Winterfell.

The room has two candles burning and the hearth going, but it does not provide a lot of light. She knows that this is not the best setting to be reading in, but Cat does not make a move or a sound. She just watches the scene play out before her.

“Then the prince leapt over the flames on his trusty horse. The fair maiden held on tightly to the prince as they fled the burning castle. He swiped at the swords of the bandits as they tried to take his lady from him. But the steed was strong and the Lady’s grip was true. As the flames climbed high into the night the two rode away. The prince turned his head, leaned back, and kissed the fair lady and she knew she would never be in danger again.”

He slowly closed the book as he finished the tale.

He blew out the candles that were on the table next to Sansa’s bed. He tucked her in a little tighter and leaned over her bed as much as he could with his size. While Catelyn could not hear the two of them, she could tell that it was along the lines of wishing each other a good night. Once the boy was done he turned around with the book held against his chest and walked towards the exit. 

He noticed her about halfway from the bed to where she was standing in the doorway. She saw how he hesitated half a step before continuing on, ducking his head. Once he reached her she pulled the door open a little wider and allowed him to pass. He swiftly walked past her and went on down the hall towards the part of the keep where he slept.

Satisfied that her eldest daughter was taken care of, she closed the door. Now fully back in the dimly lit hallway she took the few steps it required to come to her other daughter’s door.

Cat opens the door and quickly looks inside. The room itself seems fine, all except the bed. Arya seems to have been in a fight with the furs on her bed, something that is not uncommon with her youngest daughter. Catelyn goes inside the room and leaves the door ajar behind her. 

Re-tucking in her daughter does not take long. But before Cat leaves the bedside she notices something in the low light. On the far side of the bed there seemed to be a small wooden object. Reaching across her daughter, she picks up a small wooden horse.  

Strange . Cat knows that neither Ned or herself had given Arya a toy like this. It looked a little worn like it might have been someone else’s. And Sansa had never had one such as this. Robb had recently broken his. And she was not willing to spend more time thinking about her eldest less she lose herself again. 

So that left… her other brother. He must have given it to her. Another symbol of his love for his sisters. Oh how foolish she had been. Dismissing and ignoring a motherless child. One who held so much love for his family. Swiping at her face she left the room.

——————————

Ned died that night. 

He passed on in his sleep. Some people said it was a small comfort for people to go out this way. Catelyn was too heartbroken to care. 

She wailed upon finding him that morning. Maester Luwin had come running in but there was nothing that he could do. Ned was gone. She cursed the gods. She knew that she should not do it, but she was broken. Lost. 

This sickness had claimed her two sons and her husband. The man she had grown to love. The man that she had built her life with. Ned was gone. Robb was gone. Bran was gone. 

Catelyn locked herself away in her chambers. She did not drink, she did not eat, she did not sleep. Time seemed to just slip away. Too afraid to face the world around her and too afraid to reminisce about what she had lost. But that happened regardless.

She was still currently in her chambers, just staring out the window. The sun was rising once again. A new day. 

It seemed unfair that the world would just continue on, when she felt like her own had stopped. Unfair. She had done everything she could for her family. She loved them, listened to them, cared for them. She had always prayed to the new gods. Before this sickness entered her house and during its stay. She followed the teachings. She loved her lord husband and birthed many children for him. Then two of them passed. It was something that a parent should never have to deal with. But then her love was taken from her as well. 

A knock at the door pulled her out of her dark musings. She didn't answer even when the person knocked again. After the third time the door just opened to reveal the Maester of Winterfell. He looked beaten down and beyond tired. Catelyn figured she must look the same. 

“My Lady, I have brought you some water to drink. Also now that I know you are up, I will have someone bring you some breakfast. I must recommend you eat something to keep your strength up.” It was clear that Luwin was waiting for her to respond to what he had just said, but she did not have the energy or the care to do so. All she did was just stare blankly back at him.

After a few more awkward moments of silence he continues. “I checked up on the girls last night. Both of them seemed to be fully healthy once again. As long as they feel good this morning they will be able to walk the castle halls and the grounds once again.” 

There was another pause, but she did not fill it. “Well my Lady, I will be on my way to help the others that are afflicted with the illness. I do highly recommend drinking some water and having a bit of food when it gets brought up. If you need anything just send for me.” With that the Maester retreated from the room. 

With a sigh Catelyn got up from her chair and went over to where Luwin left the water. Food did not sound appealing to her, but she could not deny her thirst. She drank from the cup, refilled it from the pitcher, and drained it once more. 

There was only one thing she wanted to do at this moment and that was be with her daughters. She had neglected them enough. 

Slowly she dragged herself out of the room and went down the hallway in the family wing. With Sansa’s door being first she went there. Opening it she found that the bed was full. Cat quietly crept in to get a better view. Closest to her and the door was Sansa. Safely in the middle was Arya, whose hair was already a mess. And on the far side was their brother. All three of them still asleep. 

Cat just gazed at them. She could not help but think how peaceful they looked. The group of them were bundled tightly together. It was obvious that they sought each other out. They could not find comfort alone, so they found it in each other. At least that is what Catelyn fingered had happened last night. And she was tired and felt so alone too. So with that lingering in her mind, she went to them. 

She slipped off her shoes and got on bed next to Sansa as gently and quietly as she could. Her daughter turned into her and mumbled something in her sleep. A small smile graced Catelyn’s face. She loved her children. She loved being a mother. Cat felt that familiar ache in her chest once again. She would move on for them. They needed her and to be honest she needed them just as much. Or even more so.

Once it was clear that her daughter would not wake she spread her arm across them. She lazily rubbed small circles on Arya’s back. It felt nice to finally lay down. To be with people who she can share her grief with. She felt her eyelids grow heavy. She did not fight off sleep when it came to claim her.

————————

It was now 4 days since Ned had passed. 

To Catelyn the days and hours since that moment has felt like they have been in constant flux. At times it feels like it has been longer than just 4 days. But at other moments, ones where she feels weak or tired, it feels like not a day has passed from that morning she found him unresponsive.

BOOM

The loud noise pulls back to what is happening right in front of her. The household guard had just dropped the top of Ned’s tomb. She just stares at the large rectangular box. She has no more tears left to cry at this moment. Later, tonight, when she is all alone in the room they used to share, she might let more fall. But at this moment she does not have any. She feels as if she is just an empty husk.

She refocuses on Ned’s tomb. It does not yet have the statue that the other Lords and Kings of Winter have. That will come later when the sculpture arrives with all of his materials needed to create the stone version of her late husband, her love. Cat is not sure if she will come down here to see it placed once it is complete.

Her left arm grows tired of holding up her youngest, so she shifts Arya over to her right arm and hip. The guards once again give their condolences to Catelyn and the children. At times she is really appreciative of everyone saying their words to her, other times she just wants to snap at them. The guards leave and head back up to the grounds above them. To the place of the living.

After a few moments of silence a few soft whimpers started to come from Cat’s right. Her daughter Sansa was the source of this. Catelyn pivoted so she should wrap her daughter in her now free lefthand. She pressed her to her body and gave her the best half hug that she could. Sansa was too young to fully grasp what had happened, but she understood enough to know that her father was not coming back to her.

Arya was too young to know anything about what was going on. But their brother knew. He had been spending more and more time with both of Catelyn’s daughters. Typically that meant either playing games with or running around with Arya. And for Sansa he would read to her or partake in playing dolls with her. A few times Cat had found the boy secluded in a corner of the castle silently crying. He had also been spending more of his solo time in the godswoods, just like how Ned would do when he was struggling with something.

Catelyn rubbed small circles on the back of Sansa as she held her close. Gods give me the strength needed to raise these kids. To protect them from harm. To not let my own grief affect and damage them.  

Her daughter’s whimpers slowly started to lessen and change to hiccups. Arya had been strangely quiet the whole time. Almost like she could sense that something was wrong. Cat rubbed a few more circles on Sansa’s back.

As Catelyn stepped back from her, the boy stepped up between her and the coffin that contained Ned. He flashed his eye up at her for a moment before turning his head to look at where his father lay. She could tell he was having an internal debate about something, most likely trying to muster up the courage to say whatever was on his mind.

He took a deep breath before pivoting to fully face her and look her in her eyes, something he had rarely done ever. “Lady Stark, I-I, I have already said this in front of the heart tree and I want to say it in front of you and-and Lord Stark.” He needed to compose himself again, his eyes drifted to the floor between them. Slowing he returned his gaze back to her.

“I promise to become the best swordsmen in all of Westeros. I will use my blade to protect my family. I will not let anything else bad come to house Stark so long as I live. I will use it to protect you until Sansa comes of age to take over Winterfell, then I will use it for her. If you both will have me that is”

Standing up a little straighter he continued. “I will also commit myself to my studies so in case my sword is of no use I will be able to advise my sister and help her rule if she will have me. I promised this in front of the Gods and now I do it again before you and Lord Stark. Nothing bad will happen again if I can help it.”

Catelyn felt her eyes go wide and her mouth fall open. Maybe she should not be that shocked. His love for his family had been apparent even for her to see over these last few weeks. The way he tended to his siblings when they were sick, not caring if he would fall ill from doing so. The way he spent time with both Sansa and Arya while she was too busy grieving or trying to put the castle in order.

But this was a big deal. Because she truly believed that he had every intention to stay true to his word. He would commit himself to become the best version that he could become and nothing would stand in his way.

But during his speech he had been holding back the emotions that had been buried inside of him. Now that he was finished she saw tears start to roll down his cheeks. He turned his head back down towards the ground. While he wanted to be strong, especially when he was committing himself to his cause, the pain and death that had surrounded their family was just too much for the young lad. 

Cat reached out and ran her free hand through his hair. She hoped that it would comfort him and make him look up at her. Instead he just tensed up and remained steadfast in staring at the ground under his feet. She moved her hand to his downturned chin and gently raised his head so he was looking at her.

“I appreciate your commitment to help support and protect House Stark. I accept your help and I am sure your sister will as well when she comes to rule.” Her daughter moved closer to the boy and took one of his hands in hers.

“I will make sure that you have all of the resources you need to complete your objective.” She let that hang in the air between them. Letting him soak in the words and the meaning. 

She moved her hand behind his back and started to guild them out of the crypts. “Now come along Jon, it is getting late and I think we can all use a goodnight’s rest.”

Together herself, Sansa, Arya and Jon walked out of the crypts and back up to their home inside of Winterfell.

Chapter Text

Ch 2.  Cat II

February 291 AC

To Catelyn Stark time continued to feel like it was in flux. During the days, with her running Winterfell, it seemed like the sun was willing the day to last longer then it should. She would catch herself staring blankly at the door of the lord’s solar. Waiting for her husband to walk through and take over the duties of running his lands. But Ned never did walk through the doorway. At night she would sometimes expect him to walk in and speak to her about his day, but that did not happen either. The nights were when she felt the most lonely. Then in the mornings she would roll over, reach across the bed, only for her hand to lay on top the empty furs.

But this morning, while she was getting ready for the day ahead of her, Catelyn realized that two months had gone by since her husband passed. “Where has the time gone?” Cat could not help but whisper to herself. 

She put the finishing touches on her braid and made her way to the hall to break her fast with the Stark family, those that still remained.

As she walked into the room her heart seized. At the table sat Sansa, Arya (who has being tended to by Old Nan) and Jon. But the empty chairs stood as reminders to the husband and two boys that she had lost. Tears threatened to spill, but she rapidly blinked them away before the children could see. 

Once Catelyn had recentered herself she strode over to her seat at the head of the table, Ned’s seat . A servant quickly brought her a plate of food just as she sat down. She would have a long day ahead of her. The North was still rocked from the illness that had swept across it. There were many matters that needed to be attended to. 

The castle itself was understaffed. There were many different positions that needed to be filled. Others that needed to be shown how to complete the new jobs that they were forced to take over. But everyone in the north was dealing with the same thing. Those in the castles, towns, settlements and even those with their small family farms. Everywhere people were desperate for more manpower. And it was her responsibility to fix it. At times it felt like she was drowning in the river outside of her childhood home.

—-----------------------------

“My Lady, are you ready to go over the most recent news of the North?” Maester Luwin was currently standing on the other side of the lord’s desk. Catelyn had just finished reviewing the updated counts of Winterfell.

“Yes I am Maester, tell me, has the lord of Bear Island and the heir of Deepwood Motte recovered from the sickness?”

“Lord Mormont has made a full recovery, it would seem. But Lord Galbart Glover succumbed to the sickness. We received a raven from each of their castles this morning. But I also regret to report that Dacey Mormont has passed.”  Cat let out a sigh and glanced at the papers that littered the desk before her.

“So House Glover has lost their lord, House Bolton lost its heir, and Lord Wyman Manderly has both of his sons. And House Mormont has now lost a daughter as well.” She could only shake her head. How was the North, and herself, ever going to overcome all of this death?

“Leobald Tallhart also passed. But yes you have the right of it.” She could hear the pain in Luwin’s voice. She knew that many Maesters had also lost their lives as they tended to those in need. Everyone had been affected by this in one way or another.

A moment of silence passed between the two. These lapses of silence happen so often nowadays. Death seemed to hang over everything. Cat pushed past the spell that had taken hold of the solar. “Any ravens from King's Landing?”

Luwin reached into his robs and produced two different parchments of paper. Catelyn quietly read over both of them before folding and handing them back to the Maester.

“The first one stated that the crown recognizes Sansa as future lady of Winterfell and Arya as her heir. It also says that it recognizes me as regent until Sansa comes of age.” Cat was not surprised by this in the slightest. Ned had written King Robert and Lord Arryn asking for this exact thing. But she was slightly relieved that it was now official. But she no longer feared Jon trying to usurp Winterfell from her children. He has shown nothing but kindness and support for the remaining Starks.

“The other was an offer from the Hand of the King to relieve us of the duty when it comes to Theon Greyjoy. The message said that he can be transferred over into the care of Lord Tywin Lannister.” Catelyn tapped her pointer finger on the desk as she mulled it over. If Theon did go to Tywin it would be one less thing for her and eventually her daughter to worry about. But she feared that someway, somehow the Lannister would turn this into a positive for him. But under his care it should still deter the Greyjoys from attacking anyone along the coast of the Sunset Sea.

Catelyn explained her thinking to the man in front of her and waited for him to provide his own insight. “I believe all of your points are valid, including the part about how Sansa might have to deal with this in the future if they ever attack again. I would worry about if Balon ever wanted to try and stage a rescue for his only remaining son, he might do it now. The North is weak at the moment and disorganized as it tries to recover. But if the Iron Islands have also been hit by the same sickness then they might not be in a position to try anything of the sort.”

“Yes, that is something else to think about. I will sit on this for a few more days before I write back to the Hand about what we will do with the boy. Thank you Maester, that will be all for now, unless there is something else that you would like to discuss.”

“Only that the septa that you asked for should be arriving before nightfall.”

“Thank you, I will make sure that her room is prepared for her arrival.” Catelyn had originally not planned to ask for a septa until Arya was a bit older, but with everything that has happened… Well she could use the extra help raising her girls.

—-----------------------------

Dinner had turned into a quiet affair. At least after Nan and herself had taken Arya back to her room. Her daughter was clearly tired, but had a tendency to fight against being put to bed. And when she fought to stay awake, it turned into her throwing a tantrum. Hopefully she would actually stay asleep throughout the night.

When Cat returned she noticed that both of the children’s plates were mostly empty. She sat back down and continued on with her meal.

“Sansa, did you do anything interesting today after our lunch?”

“Yes Mama. Jon showed me the stables and Hullen let me pet one. It was soooo big, but its hair was soft.” Cat could not keep the smile off of her face when she heard the excitement in Sansa's voice “Also he showed me a new book that has different songs and poems in it. Could you read some of them to me when I go to bed? Pretty please?”

“Of course I can darling. I hope you thanked Jon for taking you to the horses and for getting you a new book from the library.”

Sansa turned her smiling face away from her and towards Jon. “Yes I did Mama. I thanked him both times.” Jon in turn just tilted his head down towards his plate. His shy streak showing once again. Cat decided to take a few more bites of her food rather than push the topic more and increase Jon’s embarrassment.

Once she was done she continued talking to her daughter. “Sansa tomorrow you will get to meet the new septa. She will be showing you how to act like a lady. How does that sound?”

Her daughter was unsurprisingly excited about the prospect of learning how to be a lady and much of the remaining mean time was dedicated to her excitement on the topic. She hoped that her daughter would get along well with the Septa because with her watching over Sansa it will allow Catelyn herself more time to get her work done.

 —-----------------------------

Septa Mordane had not even been here a week and Catelyn Stark was already noticing the positive effects that had taken place. For her daughter Sansa she always had something to talk about at the lunch or dinner table. And from what the Septa had told her her daughter already appeared to be well mannered, which brought a smile to her face. Even if she already knew that, it was still good to hear.

Then on Catelyn’s own end she was able to put more focus on righting the North as much as she could. With the help of Maester Luwin they finally got around to updating the counts on the food storages, livestock and the updated population in both Winterfell itself and Winter town. Also she had gotten around to responding to most of the ravens that the lords of the north had sent her.

There was still much to do in regards to building the north backup, but progress had been made. Catelyn found it easier to deal with her own loss when she was able to throw herself into the work that needed to be done. She might be avoiding fully addressing it by conducting herself this way, but she found it the best way to move forward.

She had not come to a decision about what to do with the Greyjoy boy currently residing inside the castle walls, but Cat would have to do that soon. At the moment Catelyn was going over the list of recommended people to fill out Winterfell's guards that Sir Rodrik had given her. This was not her strong suit. Cat was leaning towards just having the man pick who he thought was best and just go with that.

The knock at the door tugged her out of her thoughts. She called for the person to enter and in walked the Maester. “My Lady I am sorry to disturb you, but have you by chance seen Jon Snow recently or know where he might be?” Catelyn’s brow creased in confusion. At this point in the afternoon was normally the time that Jon would be with Luwin for his studies.

“No I have not, have you checked in on both of my daughters? He could be with one of them or in the yard getting some extra training.”

“The yard was empty for the most part except for a few guards doing some light training. I found Arya with Nan, but Jon was not with them. Apparently they had not seen him since lunch.  I was on my way to find Sansa, but I figured I would check with you first.” 

Frowning, Catelyn pushed her chair back and walked around the desk. “Why don’t we both go to find my daughter to see if she knows anything about Jon.”

Together they both left the room and started walking to where the Septa had set up shop when it came to her lessons. 

This just felt so strange to Catelyn. Jon had taken to both his sword training and his lessons with Luwin with great gusto. He seemed more driven and serious about these matters than any other child that Cat had ever met. He was determined to take care and protect his family and nothing other than his sisters were capable of distracting him from his goals. 

They come to the room that housed her daughter and the Septa. The door was partially open so Cat only gave a courtesy knock before opening it up fully.

“Yes my Lady, can I be of service to you?”

“You can be yes. I was wondering if you have seen Jon Snow recently?”

Mordane seemed to ponder that statement. “Well he did stop by around a half hour ago I would say. He wanted to see Lady Sansa, but I sent him on his way.”

“That is all and you have not seen him since?”

“No my Lady I have not.”

“Well it is not normal for him to miss his time with Maester Luwin.  Do you have any idea where he might have gone off to?”

The Septa’s reply to that was once again a no. Catelyn was perplexed. She was turning to leave when she finally noticed how her daughter was sitting. She had her head turned downward and has oriented away from where Catelyn and Mordane were.

“Sansa dear, do you know anything about Jon or where he might have gone off too?”

Cat waited, but her daughter did not not respond. Sansa just held her current position. Cat strolled over to her and crouched down. She took Sansa’s small hands in her own.

“Sansa, are you ok? If something is the matter I hope you can tell me about it so I can help.”

She did not respond right away. Catelyn could see on her face that she was working through something. Cat decided to just wait her out. She was willing to do whatever she could to help her remaining children.

“Is Jon going to steal Winterfell from me and Arya? Is he going to betray us because that is what ‘Bastards’ do?” 

Catelyn's breath got caught in her throat. The fears that had gripped her for so long were being voiced by her daughter. The fear that the bastard son of her husband would one day rise up and take Winterfell from her children. That he would someday harm or kill her loved ones. That he was a sinful person who always desired more than he should. 

But she no longer had those fears. The actions of that boy proved to her just how wrong she had been. His actions spoke of someone that loved his family and was willing to put them above himself. There was no way that this was just an attempt to gain their trust only to stab them in the back when they least expected it. No, Jon Snow truly loved his family. 

He spent so much of his time with his sisters, just making sure they are happy. He would always do whatever they asked of him. And when the pain of those who they lost became too overwhelming for the boy, Catelyn often found him curled up in Robb’s old bed crying. No, those old fears were wrong, but now her daughter was voicing them.

That line of thinking could only come from one person and that person was currently in the room with them. But she kept her gaze focused on her daughter.

“No my dear Sansa. Jon would never, ever, harm you or your sister. He loves you both and is willing to do anything for his family.” There was a scoff behind her, but Catelyn ignored it.

“Don’t listen to the lies of those that are trying to pull you and your family apart, Sansa. Now I want you to banish that thought from your mind.”

“My Lady, I detest what you are saying to the young Lady. She must know about Bastards and their sinful-”

“That is enough from you Septa Mordane. I will not have you speak another word. Now Sansa, I will have Maester Luwin take you to his study. There are a few things that I have tasked him to teach you about.” While that might not have been necessarily true, she wanted to get Sansa out of the room.

Her daughter looked befuddled by what was going on around her. Catelyn gave her a gentle smile and nodded towards Luwin. After a moment Sansa gave a small nod and went over to the Maester. Once she was with him, Luwin guided her out of the room and down the hallway.

Cat stood back up and turned to face the other woman that was still in the room. “I ask that you pack your things and be on your way by tomorrow morning.”

“Hah, Lady Stark, your daughter needs to be taught the ways of how to be a fine southern lady. That includes the truth about bastards and their nature. This might be uncomfortable for her, but she needs to know that the bastard Snow will at best only bring her and your family shame and at the worst kill her to take over Winterfell. Surely you don’t want that my Lady.” Mordane cocked an eyebrow, as if daring her to disagree.

“In my grief and attempt to help my daughters I had forgotten the shortcomings of the Faith of the Seven. Like how for example Septas like you don’t know the truth that not all bastards are evil beings. I take responsibility for that.”

“Maybe my Lady I need to remind you what the faith tells us about those who are born out of wedlock. I can show-”

Catelyn turns around and starts walking out of the room. With a clipped reply to cut her off Cat said “Tomorrow morning Septa. I would hate for the guards to have to drag you out.”

—-----------------------------

Catelyn spent the last half hour looking for Jon. She had checked the kitchens, the great hall, the training yard, Robb’s room, the godswoods and she even checked back in with Maester Luwin. But all of those places turned out to be dead ends. No one seemed to have any idea about where he had gone off to.

Currently she was standing out in the training yard again. She let her gaze wander from the Keep, to the stables and finally to the godswoods. Ned often sought out his gods when he was troubled. She also remembered that Jon had said that he first made his declaration to the old gods before making them in front of Ned, his sisters and herself. He modeled himself as much as he could after Ned, even at this young age . She started walking over to the entrance of the crypt.

She passed through the barrier and walked down the stairs that would lead her to the most recent addition to this place. It was silent like it always was in this sacred place. Luckily the way was illuminated with faint torch light.

As she neared the tomb she saw a small form that was kneeling at its base. She continued to walk forward. A few paces away from the tomb Catelyn could start to hear the sniffles that were coming from Jon. She had not even thought about how she was going to approach him and the issue that was causing him pain. But before she could come up with a real plan her footfalls seemed to have reached his ears. 

Jon quickly twisted his upper body around. His eyes briefly met hers before he turned back around and renewed his sobbing. She slowly restarted her approach and lifted a hand and laid it on his shoulder. Jon tensed up but continued to cry. 

Cat let out a sigh as she realized there was not an easy way to broach this issue.

“Jon, about what the septa said…” she tried to find the words that would put Jon at ease. She opened her mouth to try and continue when the child before her, beat her to it.

“Please Lady Stark, you must believe that I would never harm Sansa or Arya. I love them, they are my family. I don’t want to take Winterfell from them. I know it will never be mine, I just want to help them. I won’t let any harm befall them ever. Please don’t kick me out of Winterfell. It is the only home that I have and my sisters are here. Please, I will do whatever I can to stay.”

The whole time Jon still kept his face down. She felt her heart ache for this boy. This boy who only wanted to help others, who treated everyone with kindness despite how people have treated him (people like herself Catelyn thought bitterly). 

Acting almost on instinct, the instinct to comfort this hurting child, Cat knelt down, reached out and pulled him towards her. She wrapped her arms around the child and rubbed small circles on his back in an attempt to comfort him. 

Jon went slack. Then he let out a choking sob and flung his smaller arms around her. He buried his head into her and let his tears flow freely. Cat could feel a wet spot start to form, but she did not care. He needed a shoulder to cry on and she would be that for him.

His sobs hurt her, both her ears and her heart. But she did not let go. Catelyn decided that she would hold him until he let all of his pain out or at least until he had no more tears to cry. 

Eventually the cries started to lessen. With him still tucked into her, Cat tried to start the conversation again. 

“Jon, you are not going anywhere. You can stay in Winterfell your whole life if you want to. I know you would never harm your sisters. I know you only want to help them and the people of Winterfell. The septa is wrong about a great many things and you should ignore her words.” 

Jon moved his head back so he could tilt his head to gaze up at her. He seemed to be trying to gauge whether or not she meant what she was saying. 

“I will not lie to you, there will be people that judge you for your birth. And some of them will say mean and hurtful things to you. But you must not rise to the bait. Their words will be lies, but you will have to be better than them. Because if you act out then it will just validate their prejudices. And I believe that you will prove those people wrong. You have so much good in you, don't let someone like the Septa change that.”

“I promise to always do my best and not to let those people affect me. And I will continue to do my best with my training and studies. I promise.”

“Thank you for your promise Jon, I know you will do your best.” 

After a moment she stood up and took a step away from the boy while bringing her hands back in front of her. Jon seemed to be doing better and Cat hoped that the words spoken by the septa will not have any lingering effects on the child. She hoped her past actions would not have lingering effects.

“I have dismissed Septa Mordane. I will not have anyone spreading lies to my girls and the people that call Winterfell home. Now how about we go see what Sansa is doing with Maester Luwin, I am sure that she will want to see you.”

Catelyn stuck out her hand and Jon took it. He allowed her to lead them out of the crypts and back up to their home.

Chapter Text

Ch 3.  Cat III

March 291

Catelyn was walking down the stairs. She was in a hurry because of who had just arrived in the courtyard. There were a few more steps between her and the ground level when two small bodies shot past her. Jon was practically flying down the stairwell and Sansa was trying her best to keep up with him.

For a moment she thought about admonishing them, but decided to let their behavior go for once. They were just excited to meet their guest. 

When Cat walked out the doors she was momentarily blinded by the sunlight. But when her eyes adjusted she could see Benjen Stark swinging Jon around while the boy laughed. Standing a few steps away was a now shy looking Sansa. Cat started to close the distance between them.

She was glad that Benjen had finally arrived. She had sent him a letter shortly after the passing of his brother, but did not get an immediate response. For a while she feared the worst, until she got a raven stating that the Stark was heading down to pay his respects to his family.

She also knew that Benjen would want to see his brother's final resting place, he needed that closer. If anyone could relate to the hole that is left by Ned’s passing, it would be his own brother. But Cat was also glad that he finally arrived because she had some issues that she needed to talk to him about.

Benjen noticed her approach and put his nephew down and quickly brought her into a hug. 

“I am so sorry that you had to go through all of this alone.” He said it softly so the children would not hear it. Cat could also hear the strain in his own voice when he offered her his sympathy.

Catelyn kept herself together for the most part. The tears were held at bay and she only took two stuttered breaths. She had to keep it together for the children. 

“I am just glad that you were finally able to come. I am sorry that you had to find out the way that you did.”

Once they stepped apart Benjen collected himself before addressing the last Stark that was present in the courtyard. He knelt down to Sansa’s level before talking to her.

“Hello there little Sansa. I think you might have been too young to remember me the last time I came to visit, but I am your uncle Benjen.”

Sansa just wrinkled her hands in her dress as she refused to meet her uncle’s gaze. “I know, Jon told me who you are. He said you are a part of the Night’s Watch. You guard us from the wildlings.” Her daughter started to open up the more that she talked to Benjen. “That you have been on adventures beyond the wall and have saved people! Can you tell us some stories about that? Please?”

“Well my fair Lady I will do my best to regale you with my tales while I am here. I think dinner would be the appropriate time for me to do that. Will that work for you?” Her daughter furiously nodded her head.

Benjen’s wide smile slowly turned melancholy as his eye shifted up towards her own. He did not even have to say a word to her, Catelyn knew. The introductions were made, and while he definitely enjoyed seeing his niece and nephew, now was the time to visit Ned.

Catelyn gives him a nod of the head. “Come now children, let's go with Benjen as he visits your father down in the crypts.”

Cat herself had only been down in the crypts once since her late husband had been laid to rest. And that was only because it was where Jon was. She just did not think that she could face his final resting place alone. Catelyn feared that the grief might just swallow her whole. But she was willing to face it for the benefit of Benjen and the children.

Catelyn seemed to have really lost herself in her thoughts because it felt like all of a sudden they were standing in front of Ned Stark’s tomb. Benjen took a step forward from the group as he stared into the stone eye of his brother. Cat took this moment to also study the sculpture that was made in her husband’s image.

It was well made. It captured Ned for the most part. He looked regal with the direwolf and his greatsword. But when Cat looked at its eyes that is where the sculpture lost its realism. It was clear that they did not hold the liveliness that Ned’s had. She could not see the joy and love being returned to her while she stared at them. They were cold and foreign.

Also the general area around the eyes just seemed a little off. It was close to her Ned, but just a little off. Passable for those that did not really know him. I wonder, years from now when I think of his face, I will think of this stone one before me. Will I have forgotten the real one? I hope not.

She noticed that Benjen had reached a hand out towards Ned’s left foot. He grasped it like it was his lifeline.  “I am so sorry that I was not here brother. I am so, so sorry. I love you so much.” While he whispered those words, it was clear for them all to hear down in the silent crypts. It was heartbreaking to hear the last child of Rickard Stark.

The man quietly started to sob. The sobs eventually took over his whole body as Benjen started to shake. 

When he slumped down to his knees, Catelyn stepped forward. While gently laying a hand on his shoulder, Catelyn fought against the tears that threatened to fall.

She had convinced herself she needed to stay strong for the children. She needed to be their rock. She could not lose herself to the grief that was always threatening to consume her. But now she questioned if she could continue to wage this emotional war.

Cat turned her head back to look at Sansa and Jon. Her daughter was crying into her hands. Before she could even react, Jon closed the gap and hugged Sansa. She quickly put her arms around him and sobbed into his chest. Catelyn could not see if Jon was also crying due to how he and Sansa were positioned, but either way they were able to draw comfort from one another. Maybe, maybe just this once I can let the grief wash over me.

—----------------------------------

After they left the crypts Catelyn figured the best way to lighten the mood (as much as that could be done) was to bring Benjen to her youngest daughter. That seemed to push back the darkness that hung over everyone. The dinner later that evening also further helped in that department.

Benjen was able to entertain the children with his stories. And they were able to rebound in the way that only children are able to do. Then after she got both of her daughters to bed (but not before Jon read Sansa a story about the Night’s Watch) Catelyn was finally able to turn in for the night. Luckily the nightmares did not visit her that night.

Now she was sitting in her (Ned’s) solar waiting on Benjen. Cat wanted his input on things before he would leave. She wanted his thoughts on how she should move forward. While she had lived in the north for over seven years, he grew up here. And she knew that his intentions would be what is best for House Stark.

At that moment the door opened and in walked the man. Benjen tried to give her a smile, but the attempt failed in reality. Being back in his place of birth, the deaths of his nephews and death of his brother, it was clearly weighing heavily on him. As it did her. But she had to push past this to get to the matter at hand, so she shifted into the Lady of Winterfell.

“Please have a seat Benjen, I was hoping to get your perspective on a few things.” She tried her best to sound upbeat, but was unsure if she actually hit the mark.

“Of course my Lady, I will do my best.” All she did in reply was give him a look. She had told him to call her by her name. There was no need for him to be so formal towards her, they were family.

Benjen gave a small chuckle before correcting himself.

“I want to get your opinion on a few things regarding my daughters, Winterfell and the north as a whole. I figured while you have been at the wall for several years, you grew up in these lands and would provide me with another perspective on how best to move forward.”

Ben seemed to shift a little in his chair to become more comfortable. “Sure, I will help the best that I can.”

“First off, I recently had a septa here. I hoped that she would be able to help teach the girls to be proper ladies during times when I would be unable to. But some of her… views were detrimental to Sansa and Arya. I had to send her away.”

Cat did not really want to go into why exactly she had to send the woman away. It would highlight her oversight in inviting a woman so entrenched in the views of the Seven. She wanted to forget about her own insensitivities. Unfortunately she was not so lucky.

“Might I ask why you had to send her away? Knowing why would help me in giving more effective advice.” 

Cat could only sigh.

“Well she shared her views about Jon and his birth status with Sansa. And how he would one day harm her and Arya and take Winterfell for himself. But I swiftly dismissed her once I found out what she said.” Catelyn quickly added the last part when she saw that Benjen was about to lose it.

“Good. Jon would never do that. The pack needs to be strong, now more than ever." He collected himself before continuing. 

“I think you should invite a woman from a northern house to be a governess for the girls. I think it would be best for them if they were more integrated with the north, especially now that Winterfell will fall to Sansa to rule.”

“I was hoping to teach them how to be proper southern ladies, but I am not sure that is feasible now.”

“I am not sure how much the other northern lords would appreciate their warden being taught the courtly ways of the south. At least not as their sole education. I am sure you or someone else can still teach them the basics. A governess from the north should do so.” Another sigh escaped from her.

“So I guess that also basically answers my question about if they could even marry someone from below the neck. I did figure that they each would have to marry someone from the north. But now it seems like a requirement, for Sansa at least.”

Benjen just nodded and agreed with her. Cat certainly did not want to hand the north over to Sansa in a state of unrest. It was likely to already happen with all of the death that had befallen their land.

“What about if there is another tragedy that visits the north? Do you think it would be accepted if they marry to help gain support from another region?”

“The lords would grumble and complain, but I think they could be made to see reason. If what is done can help them they will accept it. A hard stubborn lot they are, but they each want what is best for their lands in the end.”

Cat stared at the papers in front of her, but she was not truly looking at them, just thinking. Benjen had provided info that will be useful to her family. She prayed that it would be enough. She figured that with Sansa’s name day coming up in a couple months she could use it as a time to invite some ladies of the north to Winterfell. With the goal of getting to know a few of them, and from there select a future governess.

“Between that marital ties and the governess I think that will strengthen the ties between House Stark and the northern houses.”

“I will leave the politicking to you. I don’t have the mind or the patience for it.”

She could not help but smile at his words. “You sound like Ned.”

—---------------------------------

After lunch Catelyn quickly went about her tasks. Going from one to the next as efficiently as she could. She was getting better at running the castle without her husband, but she still had much to improve on.

But currently she was between her tasks and found herself enjoying the fresh air as she looked down upon the training yard. She was not the only one that seemed to be spending their free time out in the sun. It appeared that Sansa and Jon had finished their lessons with Maester Luwin a little early today. Which meant for Jon he would spend that time out here in the yard training. Sansa was also here, but she was sitting off to the side.

Theon Greyjoy was in the yard too, but he was separated from them practicing his archery. While she still had her fears on what could happen in the future, she decided to keep him. She did not want to appear weak to the northern lords or to the people below the neck. She wanted to project the image that House Stark was still strong and would stay true to their word. So for the better or worse they were stuck with him. 

Cat returned her attention to the master of arms and Jon. She could not hear what Ser Rodrik was saying to the boy, but she could tell that he was hanging on the knight’s every word. Both of them stepped apart from one another and paused. Then Jon quickly lunged at Rodrik. He slashed with his right hand in a downward arc, then followed it with a swipe from left to right. He continued to attack the knight until Ser Rodrik took a leap back, which caused Jon to overextend in a follow up attack. Then Rodrik smacked the training sword aside to disarm him.

Catelyn truly did not know much about sword play, but she thought Jon was good for his age. Jon retrieved his training sword and the pair went again.

Catelyn watched them go again with Jon continuing to be on the offensive. She figured that it must have been a part of the drill for Jon to continue to attack.

“He is good, especially for his age.”

Catelyn turned to see Benjen coming toward her on the walkway. She let him close the distance between them. She gave him a small smile before returning her eyes to the grounds beneath them. 

“Jon is very serious about his studies, and especially when it comes to his time in the yard.”

They both lapsed into a comfortable silence as they watched Jon trained below. They let the song of swords fill the air between them. Jon, while unknowingly, was displaying just what she had just told Benjen. His intensity was captivating. Catelyn understood why her daughter was spending her extra time watching her brother. Or maybe she was just repaying him with all of the time he has given to her.

“What are your plans for the boy?” Cat could hear the skepticism in his tone. She did not blame him. 

“I will provide him with whatever resources he needs to better himself. Then if he so chooses, he can use that to help his sisters with their journey in life.” 

Catelyn turned to look over at the man next to her. His shock was plain to see. After a moment he seemed to collect himself. 

“First you threw the crazy septa out for speaking ill of Jon and now you want him to better himself and serve Sansa? You seemed to have changed since the last time I was here.”

“Yes, a lot of things have changed recently. Unfortunately it took the deaths of those I hold dear for me to see the true Jon.” Benjen took her in a side hug. She did not realize until after he let go that tears were streaming down her face.

Chapter Text

Ch 4.  Jon I

April 291 AC

“Can you tell me the coat of arms, current lord, and the seat of House Reed?” 

“They have a lizard-lion on a gray-green field, oh and the lizard-lion is black. Their seat of power  is Greywater Watch and Howland Reed is the lord.”

Maester Luwin smiled and nodded. Jon could not help the sense of pride that bloomed up in his chest. He passed his history test and got all of the northern houses correct in the surprise quiz that Luwin gave him. This was another step in fulfilling his promise. The one to become the best possible adviser that he can be to his family.

“Well that will be all today Jon, keep up the great work.”

Jon stood up and turned towards the door to leave the solar. But before he made it out he remembered the question that he had been meaning to ask the Maester.

“Um excuse me Maester Luwin, but I was wondering if I could ask you a question before I leave?” Luwin nodded and indicated for him to do so.

“Will Sansa be joining us again now that Josey Flint is to be her governess?”

“She will be having some lessons with us again soon. Lady Stark just wants the new governess to spend extra time with Lady Sansa so the two can get to know each other. But even when she does the governess will still be teaching her some lessons, different things from what you will be taught.”

“I understand, but am glad that she will not be completely leaving our lessons. Thank you Maester Luwin for answering my question and for your teachings.” With that Jon turned around and walked down the hall, with the goal of the library in mind. 

Jon reflected on the governess while he traveled the halls of the castle. Josey Flint seemed nice. Sansa also seemed to like her and liked to spend time with her so that is a plus. But Jon was still a little fearful that one day the governess would change. That she would tell Sansa and Arya how he will harm them or take their home from them. He shivered at the thought. 

The governess had been staying with them since Sansa’s name day celebration. Looking back on it, Jon realized that Catelyn used Sansa’s name day as an opportunity to select someone to take care of his sisters. Now Josey Flint would be teaching them ‘proper Lady things.’ 

His sister’s name day feast had been the best feast ever for him. Lady Catelyn placed him up on the high table next to Arya. He was not forced to the back of the hall (or even to his room). He was even there when the Lords and Ladies wished Sansa a happy nameday. Jon was able to witness all of the gifts that his sister received. 

Jon himself give a gift to Sansa. He had spent a lot of time trying to come up with the perfect gift. He originally wanted to give a new book about different tales of either the knights or Targaryens. But when Jon asked Maester Luwin about getting new books, the Maester said it might take some time to get a new one because Winterfell did already have an expansive library. And Jon did not just want to give her a book that they had just not gotten around to reading yet.

Jon thought about a horse, but Sansa is not really old enough to ride on her own yet. So he went to Catelyn to see what future stuff his sisters were expected to learn in the near future. One of the things that stuck out to Jon was the future needle work that would be undertaken. So with that in mind he had purchased some colorful silk, cloth, and thread for his sister.

He was initially nervous that she would not like his gift, but when she opened the box those fears were for not. Sansa had quickly stood up and jumped into Jon’s arms and gave him a big hug. And now with the new governess here, those items will be put to use soon. 

Jon himself had received a gift from Catelyn recently and it might have been the best gift ever! She moved him into the family wing of the castle. He had been given a room that had not been in use for some time. Old Nan said that it last belonged to his Aunt Lyanna. But Jon loved it. He was right next to his sisters’ rooms. Now he just had to go down the hall to see them.

When Catelyn had told him about the room change she had a sad look about her and claimed that it was overdue, but Jon did not care about that. He was just excited that it was happening! He made sure to thank her many times for the new room, even if every time she claimed she did not deserve his thanks.

Jon came upon the library and purposefully strolled over to the sections that he knew housed the stories about the mysteries of the north. He was already reading a book for Sansa and had another waiting in the wings so he did not need to spend time looking for a new book for their reading. Jon found the shelf that had books that he hoped were entertaining and would not be too hard for him to read. One of them seemed to be about Giants that lived beyond the wall, another about rare animals that used to be found in the north. After those was one about the long night. 

He remembered the tales that old nan had told him and Robb about the long night. He reached up and slid the book out of the row. Turning on his heels Jon traveled over to a nearby chair. Before he could even take a seat he heard someone else walk into the room. Quickly he glanced over to the intruder.

In the doorway stood the governess and his sister.

“Jon!”

In a blink of an eye Sansa was in front of him. She grabbed her dress with each hand and crouched down a little bit. Then she quickly rose back up.

“Lady Josey showed me how to curtsy. Well Mordane started to show me, but I like Josey teaching me more. And today she said I should start practicing outside of our lessons.”

Jon did not really know how to respond to that. He knew that it was something that ladies did. It was clear that Sansa enjoyed being taught how to be a proper lady. Which Jon already knew because of all of the stories that he would read to her. 

“Well I think you did a great job.” That earned him a beaming smile. “So what are you doing in the library?” 

“Oh, well I just wanted to show her the library.”

“Yes, Lady Sansa has told me on many different occasions how much she likes this place, especially with a certain brother of hers.” 

Jon could feel the heat rising up on his face. Maybe, just maybe Josey Flint might be better than the septa. But he did not want to get his hopes up too high. 

“Lady Josey, would it be ok if Jon went riding with us tomorrow?” Sansa had turned away from him and was looking up hopefully at her governess. 

The woman of his sister’s attention held a serious look on her face. The two held each other’s gaze in what seemed to be a staring contest, until a smile broke out on Josey’s face. “That sounds like a lovely idea. Now why don’t you go find your Lady mother and tell her what we went over today. And you can show her your curtsy.”

His sister spun around and went for the exit of the room. As she was walking through the threshold she said her goodbyes to each of them. And just like that he was alone with the governess. This is just like how it started with the septa .

The first time that Septa Mordane told him what being a bastard meant was when she got him alone. She had told him how all good southerners know that bastards are vile and evil creatures. How she would make sure he understood who his betters are. That she would keep his sisters away from him. 

To try and keep the verbal onslaught to a minimum he quickly averted his eyes downward. Appearing meek seemed to kinda work on the septa, and when Lady Stark used to dislike him.

“Jon, would you please look at me.” Great, I already messed up. Lady Stark will not dismiss two people.

Jon slowly turned his head up and stared at the governess. “I know how that septa treated you. Lady Stark told me the terrible things that she did. I have only been here a short time, but I can already see what type of person you are.”

Jon kept himself from getting his hopes up, she was just setting him up to crush him with her next words. He was sure of it.

“You are nothing but kind and helpful towards both of your sisters. And both of them look up to you. I don’t want to keep them from you. I don’t think you are a bad person. I think that you are exactly the type of young man who will be a positive influence on your family and your house.”

Stunned was not even an apt description of what Jon was feeling. He felt hope start to spread though his chest.

“I see that you were not expecting me to say that. I am sorry for the life that you have lived so far, you should not have been treated poorly just because your parents were not married. But I would like for you to be involved in both of your sister’s lives. And I would like to get to know you better myself. So if you would be so inclined, I would also like to invite you to join Sansa and I tomorrow for a ride.”

His smile was starting to shake and Jon felt tears building behind his eye. But he would keep them at bay. He did not want to cry in front of someone he just met, that is not something that a man would do. So he just continued to smile and let that warm feeling expand.

“Yes my Lady. I would like that very much.”

—---------------------------------------

Jon had a smile plastered on his face as he sat upon his horse. This trip out beyond the walls of the castle proved to be even better then the first time they did this the week before. Beside him rode the governess who had Sansa positioned in front of her. And behind rode a handful of Stark guards.

Today on their adventure they had a picnic along the edge of the Wolfswood. On the first ride that Jon joined them on he was nervous. That he would mess up or look a fool before Lady Josey, which would cause her to turn on him. But he did not and the Lady continued to be nice to him. And by the end of it he had forgotten his fears and enjoyed himself.

Before they set out today he had still been apprehensive, but that quickly faded away. He was able to actually enjoy his time on his horse, which he had named Ice. He always looked forward to riding his steed, it was one of his favorite activities. Which is something that he seemed to share with Lady Josey.

After they had finished their meal. The Lady had played chase with both Sansa and himself. She did not seem stuck up or afraid to sully herself with a bastard like him. The Septa had and some of the Lords of the north seemed to try their best to ignore him, but not the new governess. 

Their horses trotted through the courtyard’s threshold. Jon steered Ice towards the stables with Lady Josey doing the same. But in front of the stables was Ser Rodrik. Jon found that to be a bit unusual as normally during this time he was training the household guard. Jon quickly swung down from his horse and looked to where Ser Rodrik was. After the man helped Sansa and Lady Josey down, he finally addressed them. 

“There is someone that just arrived that Lady Stark wants both Sansa and Jon to meet.”

“Certainly. Thank you for coming to tell us Ser Rodrik” says Lady Josey.

“Now if you both will follow me, I will escort you.”

Sansa slid closer to him and he allowed her to take his hand. Together they followed after the knight. Jon’s mind began to wonder about who this could possibly be. Maybe it was a particular lord that she thought was important enough for both of them to meet, but not every lord liked him being in their presence. But he quickly dismissed that idea because there did not seem to be any extra people in the yard or any flags that might indicate that a lord was visiting. 

“Ser Rodrik, who does mother want us to meet?”

“I am sorry Lady Sansa, but your mother told me not to say anything to you both before you get to her solar.”

“Please Ser Rodrik.”

“Your smile will not work on me my Lady, besides it will only take a moment more for us to get there.”

Jon just prayed that whoever is waiting for them does not hate bastards. 

They reached the top of the last of the stairs and walked towards the door. Sansa’s grip tightens marginally. Rodrik gave a quick knock and opened the door for them both. He stepped aside to let them enter.

Sansa went in first and Jon quickly followed her. Catelyn was walking around the desk to greet them both. She hugged her daughter with a tight grip. She then moved to him. She smooths down his hair on the back of his head, moves her hand to his shoulder and gives him a smile. Jon can’t help but return it.

This was the type of affection that he always wanted. Well maybe a hug like what Sansa got would be even better, but this was more than enough for him. To know that Catelyn did care about him, even if it was not quite like how she cared for her daughters.

Catelyn moved behind them both and that was when Jon noticed the other person in the room. The man was well built. He is tall and has a beard and wrinkles on his face. He looked like a knight with the armor that he was wearing. In the middle of his chestplate is a black fish. 

“Children, this is my uncle Brynden Tully. Uncle this is my daughter Sansa and this is her brother Jon.” 

Catelyn’s uncle had a smile on his face when he looked upon Sansa, but when he was introduced that smile faded. A frown seemed to be starting to form, but then his face seemed to take on a neutral expression.

“It is my pleasure to finally meet you my grand niece, you look just like your mother did at your age.”

Sansa dipped in a curtsy before replying to the knight.  “The pleasure is mine uncle, I look forward to getting to know you.”  

“I look forward to that as well.”

“Uncle Brynden has decided to stay with us for the foreseeable future. I think he will be a great help to us and I am most thankful for him.”

“Please, as I said Cat, it is no trouble at all. I only wish to help out my family.” 

Jon thought for a moment about asking the knight if he would be willing to help train him. After all, everyone in Westeros knew of the great knight of house Tully. Jon wanted to be trained by him and to hear all of his stories of valor. But Jon held his tongue. 

“Well while you are here, maybe you will be able to train the good men and future warriors of Winterfell?”

Jon just stared at Catelyn. He felt warmth seep up all over. She was holding his gaze and while she did not say anything directly relating to him, Jon knew she was asking on his behalf. He loved her for that. For taking care of him as she does now. 

Lady Stark shifted to her uncle. Brynden’s eyes flickered over to Jon, but that was the only give away. 

“If that is what would please you, Niece. As Lady of Winterfell, if you think that is best then I will follow your word.” 

Jon could not stop the smile that overtook him. He did not even care that the knight before him did not sound enthusiastic about it. He wanted to hug Catelyn. Brynden Tully would give him the best possible chance at becoming a great warrior. This is how he could fulfill another part of his promise. And Catelyn was supporting him in doing so.

Chapter Text

January 292 AC

The air was crisp and cold this afternoon. The snow softly crunching under Catelyn’s boots as she walks back to Winterfell. She was accompanied by her Uncle, Luwin and Marna Poole. They had completed the tasks that Catelyn herself had set for their group. 

They had traveled to Winter Town for two reasons, the first was to hand out blankets and clothes. The other objective was to take stock of who was still in need, so more goods can be made. The summer snows had been falling recently and the fear was that it would continue. So they had finished what they set out to do and were now heading back. 

The weather did not really bother the Lady of Winterfell at the moment. It was easy to fall into one’s own mind during the walk back to the keep. So for Cat the snow filled world around her faded to the background. 

The last few months had been a whirlwind, but things were starting to stabilize. That went for Winterfell and the North as a whole. People were recovering and moving on. Because that is the way of things. The world will not wait for anyone, it will leave you behind. So now a year after the sickness that had swept over these lands, it felt like life had settled into a new normal. But it was not the same as it was. 

Over these last few weeks Catelyn had been keeping herself busy. Visiting Winter Town, meeting with the nearby minor lords, exploring trade deals, going over the storages and spending more time with the children during their lessons. All this to forget about the anniversaries that had come and gone. But these actions did not distract her enough to truly forget them. 

When those days came up, Cat could barely leave her quarters. She was a coward because she did not want the children to see her. Catelyn wanted to be strong for them, but found that she could not. 

Catelyn later learned that Jon had stepped up. The sweet boy that he was took his sisters down on each of those days to visit their Father and brothers. 

As if she did not feel enough shame for her actions over these last few weeks, she felt even more due to her past transgressions against Jon. He was always ready to help her, the girls or anyone in Winterfell really. Luwin said he was flourishing in his lessons and Cat herself had seen some of his advancements in the training yard. While she did not claim to understand the training itself, she could tell that it was impressive that Jon was holding his own against an older opponent like Theon Greyjoy. At the age of eight he was doing well. 

Cat had been doing her best to make his life better. A few months ago on his birthday she had thrown a feast for him. The lad had a smile plastered on his face the whole time. But it also brought the shame back. 

Her eldest daughter had been doing very well herself. She had taken to her lessons with Lady Josey with great gusto. She was also doing quite well when it came to Maester Luwin’s teachings too. It was clear to Cat that Sansa would make a great southern lady. But Catelyn knew that her daughter could not just be a lady of the court. She was now destined to rule the north one day. 

But both Josey and Luwin knew this and were giving her the best possible education to prepare her for her days of ruling. Her daughter was proficient in sums and was able to curtsy better than girls who are double her age. 

Sansa had also endeared herself to everyone inside their castle. Which always brought a smile to Catelyn’s face. Her girl did not even know it but she was already making an impression on those that will look to her to rule them someday. Catelyn would make sure that no one will be able to take advantage of Sansa when the time comes for her to guide the north. 

Catelyn’s other daughter is also becoming well known to those around the castle. Nearly three name days and she was already synonymous with her boundless energy. The girl loved to explore, and play in the dirt much to Catelyn’s chagrin. Sansa had not spent half as much time in the dirt as Arya does. Her activeness reminded Catelyn of her first…

Her daughter also rarely allowed anyone to hold her. If she was tired or hurt then she would, but anything short of that was a rare thing. Only her and Jon would be permitted to, or so the young girl so deemed. When it came to Old Nan her youngest enjoyed the stories that she was told and let the old woman watch over her while she played with her toys. But at some point Arya would decide that it was time to seek out Jon or herself. 

Catelyn always tried to be available for Arya. She would take her daughter with her if she was making the rounds or just hold her as she sat at the desk in her solar. Spending some extra time with her youngest had been a great distraction of late. 

When Catelyn was unavailable or when she was not the one that Arya wanted to see, Jon was the one she went to. She would shadow him in his lessons, both with Luwin and in the yard. He would include her whenever she was around. Whether it was just holding her hand, asking her questions or letting her “participate” alongside him. 

Oftentimes when Jon was finished with his activities he would do whatever Arya wanted him to do. Play with her toys, play in the grass and dirt, or become a horse for her to ride on. He had a great patience with her, just like he did for Sansa. 

Those who had seen the previous generation of Starks grow up had told her that Arya had the same wild spirit as her aunt Lyanna. Old Nan in particular would often compare the two of them. Catelyn hoped that her daughter would be more agreeable to becoming a lady then Lyanna apparently was. While Jon’s willingness to play with Arya, despite getting dirty, did not help, Catelyn found that she could never get too mad at the children. They deserved their happiness. 

Even the ward of House Stark was doing better as of late. Theon was lashing out less and apparently taking more care in his studies. The boy generally kept to himself for the most part and Catelyn allowed him that. While he was not great with a sword, he excelled with the bow. Which he let everyone know about.

As the group made their way into the castle yard Luwin split off, taking the count with him. Cat and her uncle continued on towards the main keep. The people going about their tasks would stop momentarily to greet her and Brynden. This was something that she took pride in, the people of Winterfell. 

“What do you think Cat? Do you think we will be able to get enough clothes and blankets in a timely manner?”

She let out a sigh. “To be honest, I am not confident. Even in the previous winter we were in a better position than this. We had time to prepare and we had many more people who could work on the blankets and clothes. But now…”

Now everything is different and much more difficult.

“I will help with the blankets when I can. I should be able to fit some more time into doing that.”

“Cat, you already stretch yourself too thin. Let others pick up the slack so you don’t have to.”

“I am the Lady of Winterfell and the regent to Sansa. I am who is responsible for the north. I will do whatever is needed for the people-”

“Cat this is unhealthy. You overexert yourself, you need to take a break at some point.”

While a part of Catelyn would concede that all of the hours that she has been putting in might not be the most healthy for her, she knew that too many people were counting on her to stop.

“If my late husband was still here you would not confront him about this.”

“No I would not, but you would. You would have looked out for him and called him out on when he was doing too much because you were his wife. So let me be the one to tell you the hard truths niece. Allow me to help a member of my family.”

She froze in her tracks, at the entryway of the keep. Whenever Ned was brought up it still made her stop. It was the same with her boys. But her uncle was right. She would often have to be the one to argue and convince Ned to slow down and take some time for himself. But she did not have anyone that would do that for her. The children were too young. Luwin would step in when it became a medical emergency, but he did not overstep his bounds.

With an exhale and a slight shake of her head she replied. “Alright Uncle, I will ease up a little bit. I will hand off things to others when it is viable. But I will still help with these blankets, I won’t have people freezing on my watch.” 

Her uncle just gave her a small smirk accompanied with a slight shake of the head, but he seemed to be satisfied with her statement. Now Catelyn wanted to flip the difficult conversations back onto him. She has been meaning to have this particular conversation with him again for a while now and she knew just the way to initiate it.

“Come along Uncle, let us see if we can find my youngest daughter. I have a sneaking suspicion about where she is exercising her freedom from Old Nan.” Catelyn turned and led her uncle towards the stairway that would take them up on the castle walls. 

With Luwin, Brynden, and herself out for a large part of the day she allowed the children to have a mostly free day. With only Sansa spending the morning learning from Lady Josey and Ser Rodrik training Jon. Old Nan was also instructed to allow Josey, Sansa or Jon to look after Arya if they showed up in the afternoon. And Cat knew who would end up coming for her youngest.

They made their way around the walls and over the south gate. She let her gaze wander to the fields of white with patches of dull green poking through. Catelyn had grown to appreciate the North and the beauty of its lands. While it did not have the same charm that the Riverlands had, it was still something special to her. She felt closer to those that she had lost. They were of the North and so were these lands. 

When they were above the stables she started to slow her walk. Her uncle mirrored her with a slight smile. At the far side of the stables there was a small corner of open space before one reached the Bell tower. This is where they found Arya accompanied by her brother.

Catelyn had found them here one day a few months back under similar circumstances. Jon had a half day of training/lessons and he had taken Arya off of Nan’s hands once he was done. Cat herself was just walking the walls to clear her mind when she came upon them. That was not the only day that she had found them hidden away in their special hiding place.

The sounds of their game, accompanied by their joy, floated up to where the adults were on the wall. 

“I will slay you dragon!” Arya then swung her arm down in an arch in front of Jon. The imaginary sword seemed to find its mark as Jon crumpled to the ground. Arya then launched herself at her defeated foe. This resulted with her clothes getting even more dirty then they already were.

Catelyn shifted to look back at her uncle. His smiling face had been replaced by a stone mask. Sighing, she walked over to the other side of the wall that faced the surrounding lands. She placed her hands on top of the wall and let her gaze drift. Brynden slowly joined her. Cat felt the Sun warm her face while she felt the breeze as it blew past her. She took a few deep breaths to gather herself.

“I know you train Jon and are amicable with him, but I do wish you could be more.” Catelyn turned and awaited his response.

“Is that why you brought me up here? To talk about the boy I have no relation to?”

“I brought you up here to see yet another example of his character. So you can see once again how good he is for my daughters. How in his own time, in private, he loves and takes care of them.”

She again waited for him to respond, but he did not seem inclined to do so. Catelyn pushed on trying to make her point. “He is good for them. A better life for him can only mean a better one for my girls. Sansa and Arya adore him and they both will look to him for guidance and support when they are older. He would benefit greatly from having a male figure in his life. All boys should have one. Luwin and Rodrik can’t provide that, but you can.”

“Why do you care so much for him? Some would point out how he is a potential threat to Sansa’s future rule here in Winterfell. He is the last son of the previous lord and has all of the Stark features. Now I know him enough to understand he would ever do such a thing, but still. Why do you want me to care about him? Because it is more than just how it might help his sisters when they are older.”

Catelyn could not stand his eyes as they bore into her. She took a step back from the edge of the stone wall. She gathered herself before fully facing her uncle.

“You are right, it is more than just that. He deserves to have a good life with as many people as possible to support him. He is a kind boy with a good heart. Jon also has a good head on his shoulders and is driven to help those around him. He is deserving of a whole lot more than just a role model.”

Her uncle Brynden continued to just look at her, but she did not turn away.

“You really care for the boy.” 

Catelyn made her way over to the edge and looked down at the yard below. Arya now seemed to be riding Jon as if he was some sort of animal. Her squeals of happiness were clear to hear. She was able to catch Jon’s face as he moved about and it had a large smile on it. Cat felt a smile form on her face as she watched what was transpiring under her. The sadness washed over her. 

“He is a piece of the man that I loved. He loves my girls and they love him. I will never have another child, much less a son.” She finished with a whisper and was unsure if she was even heard.

She felt her uncle grab both of her shoulders and turn her to bring them face to face. He took a moment to study her features before taking a deep breath. 

“I promise to extend more kindness to the boy. I will be there for all three of the children. I will be whatever they need me to be. That is my promise to you.” 

It was strange how she felt like a young girl again. Just like how her uncle would comfort her when her father was unable to. She tried to give her thanks, but had to swallow back a sob. 

“It is ok Cat, I know. You have been so strong for so long, this is not a weakness I am seeing. So don’t worry about that.” 

His words gave her the resolve she needed. Ned will never be replaced for her. But with people like her Uncle, Luwin, Lady Josey, and Benjen (when he can visit) she might be able to make it. She wiped away the tears in her eyes and took a fortifying breath. 

“Thank you Uncle. I don’t mean to guilt you into this I just-“

“Don’t worry about it Cat. You are family and that is the most important thing in my life. Now let us go inside and make sure all of the preparations are done for little Arya’s name day celebration next week.”

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Catelyn was still exhausted even after a full night's rest. Arya’s name day was a success, but it left Catelyn drained. Her youngest was now three and had truly enjoyed her special day. Jon had indulged her even more than normal. 

But the unexpected element has been the Great Jon Umber showing up with his two youngest sons. He claimed that he wanted to show support to House Stark after the hardships that the north had been through. While Cat did think that there was some truth to that, she knew why he brought his sons. 

He claimed he saw an opportunity to allow his heir, the Small Jon as he was called, to run things for a little bit and take his youngest two on a trip. But Catelyn knew it would have made more sense to take his heir to see the north and meet the family that he will be serving one day. But Catelyn had given him and his sons all of the courtesies that they deserved. 

She told her Uncle of her suspicions regarding the Umbers. Then she quickly had to make him promise to not say anything unbecoming to them. Catelyn knew that she would have to handle it herself when the time came. This was to be the first test of many and she needed to project strength each and every time that this happened. 

All of this went through her head as she was walking the castle grounds. She walked into the greenhouse and relished in the change of temperature. She really did consider this a marvel. How it allowed the extra crops to grow inside the walls even in winter. 

“- and Alysanne secretly flew to Dragonstone on their dragons. There under the watchful eyes of his Kingsguard they married. Queen Alyssa and Lord Rogar tried to order the Kingsguard to secure the two children before the marriage could be made official, but the Kingsguard refused. They decided to protect their young King and Queen and the love that they shared.”

Catelyn poked her head over a row of vegetables to see exactly where Jon was. He was sitting on a stone bench, reading to Sansa. Her daughter seemed engrossed with the story being told to her. She was keeping her eyes on the page while Jon read it to her. Of course after spending all day yesterday with Arya, Jon would make time for Sansa today.  

She smiled and quickly fled the greenhouse to allow them their private time. She understood the need to be away from all of the craziness that had taken over the castle for the last few days. She slipped back out and felt the cool morning air. 

Thankfully the yard did not look too busy yet. But before she could even decide where to go next a deep, booming voice called out to her. 

“Lady Stark, do you have a moment?” 

“Yes of course Lord Umber.” Catelyn replied with a smile on her face as she rotated to face the oncoming lord. 

“I just wanted to thank you for allowing us to attend that great feast in honor of young Arya. It was splendid, especially the ale.” He laughed to punctuate the end. 

“It was not a problem my Lord. I am just glad that things are starting to get back to normal. I just want the children to have a good time and enjoy their childhood while they still can.” 

“Yes, that is for the best. Your eldest daughter Sansa was so kind to dance with both of my boys. You know I think they both would make fine future lords of Winterfell. Yes, good strong lords.”

Not subtle at all and straight to the point. But she figured as much from the Great Jon Umber. “I am sure you are raising all of your sons to be proper northmen. But you bring up something that I have not really dedicated time to think about. At this moment, with everything that has happened to all of us, I am not really thinking about the future marriage prospects for my children. I am just focusing on having them raised right. Making sure that as the future ruler of the north, Sansa will be prepared. Luckily Winterfell does not lack for strength with my Uncle the Blackfish serving our house and with Ser Rodrick as Master of Arms. Then pair that with Jon Snow, who I am told by both knights, is on his way to becoming a great warrior in his own right.” 

Cat could see that Jon Umber was trying to take in everything that she had just said. He looked like he was about to reply when Catelyn took control again. 

“But you are right about your sons, my lord. I am sure that they will make strong lords wherever they end up going. House Umber has been such a leal house for the Starks. Your sons will definitely be considered by myself and Sansa when we go over the prospects when she is closer to being of that age.” Catelyn made sure she sounded upbeat and had a smile the whole time. 

After a moment the lord opposite of her responded. “I am honored that you would consider my sons. It is also good to hear that Winterfell is doing well even after everything that has happened.” 

“I know all of the North has a long way to go, but I am hopeful for our future.”

“That is very good to hear my Lady. Thank you for your time, I will let you get back to your day.” 

Catelyn just smiled and nodded as lord Umber retreated back into the keep. She understood that this was just the first of many. Catelyn knew that these types of talks would only get more difficult the older the children got. This one had been short and easy, which she was thankful for. Lord Umber did not press her too hard, which might be in part because it seems he did not expect her to put up much of a fight.

She scanned the area around her and noticed her uncle looking right at her. He seemed to wait until lord Umber made it back inside before coming over to her himself. 

“So how did it go?” 

“Good I would say. I believe he got the message that Winterfell is still strong and not in need of any extra help. Also that Sansa will rule, but who will be her husband will not be determined anytime soon.” 

“Good. I always did hate the way marriages are fixed upon the highborn. Especially when they are so young.”

Catelyn could not help but laugh “Now why does that not surprise me Uncle? That you would be against forced marriages.”

Chapter Text

Ch 6 Sansa I

October 294

Sansa could not help but let out a little giggle. She was just too happy and excited about the day ahead of her. Currently she is sitting atop her pony named Princess. They were on the edge of the Wolfswood, but still within sight of Winterfell. Near the tree line there were butterflies floating above some lovely wildflowers. This was accompanied by the songs of forest birds. The day was just what she wanted.

Sansa was currently heading out to have a picnic. With her was Lady Josey, her governess, and her siblings. They were also being shadowed by four guards. Their names were Jory, William, Ethan and Harrold. Her mother told her that it was important to know the names of those in Winterfell because one day she would be ruling over them. Or as her lady mother put it, she would be serving them by guiding and protecting them as the ruler of the North. So Sansa tried her hardest to learn everyone’s name, even if she found it hard. But her mother and Jon said that she was really good at it.

“Josey on the way back can I ride by myself?”

“No Lady Arya, you can not.”

“Can I ride with Jon then?”

Jon and Sansa both looked over to the governess. Josey was riding on her dark brown horse with Arya sitting in front of her. Her sister had asked these exact same questions about their ride out before they even left Winterfell for their weekly picnic. 

Looking over at them mounted on their horse, it looked a little funny with Arya trying to turn around to look at Josey. Her sister was trying her best to have puppy eyes in a desperate attempt to convince their governess. The governess in question was doing her best to avoid all of their eyes by keeping her gaze ahead of her.

Their whole riding party seemed to be waiting for Lady Josey to make up her mind. Well, almost everyone. Arya was nagging her by continuously saying please. 

“If you promise to behave while we are out here today-”

“I promise, I promise!”

“AND if you promise to sit still while riding with your brother, then yes you can ride back with him if he is ok with it.”

“I promise!”

At this point the governess turned to Jon and nicely asked him “Are you ok with Arya being on your horse on the journey back?”

“Yes Lady Josey, that is fine with me.”

Arya let out a very unladylike shout of excitement. Sansa could hear the guards laughing at her sister’s antics.

“You know Arya, if you would have asked nicely and been respectful while waiting for an answer back before we left, I might have let you ride out here on Jon’s horse.” Arya whipped her body around to stare at the lady. Sansa could not help but laugh.

“What are you laughing at Sansa?”

Sansa could not help the gasp that came out. Why was Arya mad at me for laughing? It is her own fault that she is in this situation. Well I am going to tell her just that.

Before she could respond to that rude remark, Jon cut in. “Arya, if you want to ride with me back to Winterfell, you need to behave. That includes being nice to Sansa. Now I am sure that she was not trying to be mean, isn't that right Sansa.” At this point Jon fixed her with a gaze. 

“That is right, I just found it funny how you quickly spun around on your horse. I did not mean anything by it.”

“See, there was nothing to get upset about, now I think both Sansa and Lady Josey would like an apology from you.”

Arya just let out a long sigh, but their brother just reinforces the need for an apology.

“Fine. I am sorry for snapping at you Sansa, I will not let it happen again.”

—————————

Sansa was watching her sister as she finished eating. She did not inhale her food like a starving wolf this time. In fact she seemed to have lived up to her word about behaving. This was the type of behavior that Sansa could get used to.

She had given up on trying to make Arya act like her. Jon had told her a few months ago that he was glad that Arya did not act just like Sansa did. He said that it would be boring if everyone acted the exact same way all of the time. And that the harder Sansa tried to make Arya just like her, the harder that Arya would resist it. But Sansa still wished that Arya would not always conduct herself in her normal crazy manner. 

Sansa went back to her dessert, a lemon cake. There really is nothing better than a lemon cake. She took her first bite and relished in the flavor. She opened her eyes after finishing that bite and looked back down at the delicacy in her hand and noticed that another one appeared on her napkin. 

She turned her head up and saw Jon going to stand. He noticed that her eyes were on him and just smiled in return. Before she could even thank him he lunged at Arya and tapped her on the head. 

“You’re it!” And be shot off and away from Arya. 

“No fair! Get back here Jon” 

And just like that both of them were off running around and through the nearby trees. Arya desperately trying to catch him. Jon made sure to not go too deep into the Wolfswood because the adults would not like that. 

Jon ran out of the trees and back towards where they set up for their meal with Arya trailing behind. He seemed to slow down some and started to act like he was winded. 

Arya squealed as she closed the distance between them. She lunged at him and slapped him with her right hand and let everyone know that he was now it . Their brother took a swipe at Arya, but she jumped away before contact could be made. Sansa could hear Lady Josey and some of the guards chuckling at their game.

Jon also has a smile on his face and takes in the small group. His eyes pass over each of them before stopping on her. His smile becomes mischievous. Quickly he closes the gap before softly tapping her head.

“You're it!” 

“What no fair, I was not even playing!” So unfair!

“Well now you are it, and you will stay it unless you can catch Arya or myself.” Jon took off running along with Arya who was just laughing.

Sansa scrambled to her feet and gave chase. 

Focusing on Arya she felt determination rise up within her. Sansa knew that she had the speed on her younger sister, she just had to make sure to not slip while trying to make any turn. Thirty paces quickly became twenty. Then suddenly Arya just stopped right at the edge of the trees. To stop herself, and to make sure she still tagged her opponent, Sansa slid to a stop and grabbed both of Arya’s shoulders.

“Ha, you’re it!” But her sister did not react to her, just frozen looking straight ahead.

“Well ‘ello there little girls.”

Sansa was not sure who screamed, her or Arya, but one of them did, or maybe both. But either way they took off. Sansa did not look back to see if the group of five or six men gave chase or not. Sansa quickly realized that she did not need to turn around to look, she could hear them coming after them.

She looked at where they had set up their picnic. The four guards were running at the pair of them, brandishing their swords, trying to reach them before the men could. Sansa did not even get a good look at the men, but she just had the innate sense to run .

As Sansa was nearing the guards she heard a scream and looked back. Arya was being lifted off of the ground by one of the attackers. She was wailing and kicking her feet, but both seemed ineffective. 

Fear

That is all that Sansa felt. It was all she could think about. It was-

Her left foot hit something and then the next thing she knew was the hard ground as her face made impact against it. But the pain seemed dull. The fear was still all encompassing.

A roar came from over her shoulder. As she twisted around Sansa had a clear view of a sword, raised high, being swung down. Too panicked to do anything she watched helplessly as it flashed towards her, the sun reflecting off of the blade. 

She watched as the sword changed its arc. Or rather it was forced to change. Two swords sent dirt flying up into her eyes as they met the ground next to her. 

The sounds of steel impacting steel made her move. She crawled and scrambled her away. Sansa did not really care where, as long as it was away from those men.

Shouting, grunting, yelling and steel clashing all assaulted her ears. Again her face hit the ground as her unsteady arms gave out. She felt like she could not continue to move. Fear was everywhere and it was restricting. All Sansa could do was listen to the fighting going on behind her. To block it out her hands pressed against her ears, but that did not block out the noise.

Hands grabbed her shoulders and yanked her up to her knees. Sansa found her voice again as a shriek left her mouth. Her attacker was also screaming. 

“-sa”

“-nsa!”

“Sansa!”

It was Lady Josey! Sansa had not realized that she had closed her eyes, but she opened them to see Lady Josey before her. The lady's face was marred with concern, confusion and fear . Maybe Sansa should have felt shame for not realizing faster who was trying to help her, but she did not. 

“Are you with me Sansa? We must go now to the horses! Can you stand?”

She seemed incapable of actually forming any words, but Sansa gave a short nod. With shaky legs she rose to her feet. 

She looked at Josey to see what the next step was. Sansa seemed incapable of stringing together thoughts on her own. They were like water running through her fingers. But the woman in question was just staring behind Sansa. So she turned. 

Bodies laid unmoving on the field before them. One belongs to Harrold. He was unmoving, face down in the dirt. The same could be said for Ethan. There were three more. They belong to their attackers. 

Sansa focused on those still left standing. Jory was engaged with one man who wielded a long sword. William seemed to be giving up ground to a different man who had a shorter sword. The last of their attackers was off to the side, holding on firmly to Arya and laughing at what he was watching. Her sister was throwing her arm and kicking her legs in every direction, but it seemed to do little to the exceptionally large man. 

A cry of pain erupted. Sansa flicked her eyes back to their guards. Jory seemed fine and was still fighting to protect them. William, he was missing his sword AND his hand! Before Sansa could even fully process what she saw before her. The evil man slashed William across the chest. Streaks of blood followed the sword as it swept down to the ground.

“Come Sansa, we must hurry!”

Sansa nearly lost her footing again as Josey pulled her hard towards their only escape. But she ran as fast as she could. Sansa did not look back only forward in the direction of their horses. There was nothing that she could do. She could not save Jory as he now had two of the evil men to fight against. She could not save her sister from the clutches of that vile man. She could only focus on saving herself. But where was Jon?

“Up Sansa! You must get up onto your horse!” She grabbed the saddle and tried her best to jump as high as she could. As she lifted off of the ground, Josey assisted her with a push. Clumsily she got into the saddle, after nearly going off the other side. Lady Josey quickly swept around Sansa and started to untie their horses from the lone tree in this open field.If they could leave on the horses they would be safe. Winterfell was easily within sight of where they were. She noticed that the lady’s hands were trembling as she attempted to untie the rope. She stared as Josey tried over and over to desperately untie the rope, but she was shaking uncontrollably. Sansa swept her head around to look at those still battling.

Jory was holding off both of his opponents valiantly, but they were pushing him back. He would not be able to hold on much longer. Behind the trio and to the left stood the man who held Arya captive. Her sister was still fighting for her release, but it seemed that her own energy was leaving her.

Jory faked like he was about to attack the man on his right only to switch to block the other on his left. Their swords meet briefly, but he quickly disengaged and took another step back.

Movement behind the fight caught Sansa’s eye. To the right of where the remaining fighters were having their deathly duel was where the movement originated from. One of the dead bodies seemed to be moving on the ground. The body rose up with a sword in hand. But the figure was smaller than the others and the sword seemed large on them. They turned around to face the others still on the field, and that was when Sansa got a good enough look at the individual. It was Jon!

Sansa could only guess that in the chaos that he had snuck behind everyone. But what was he doing over there? He should be trying to escape with her and Josey!

His eyes seemed to take in everything that was happening before him. Sansa could see as he made his decision. He took off running straight at the man holding Arya. As he charged Jon raised the short sword that he had acquired, which still seemed a little too big for him. He did not make a sound and with him coming from behind, the large, evil man never saw him coming.

Her brother swiped the sword in a downward angle and cut directly into the leg of Arya’s captor. The man roared, but Jon did not stop his attack. He swung at the man’s back, then brought the sword back around into the other leg, right in the back of the knee. An agonizing cry accompanied each hit and after the second strike to the leg, Arya was released from his grasp. When their sister hit the ground Jon positioned the sword to be perpendicular to his chest, brought it back, and with all of his might shoved it into the man’s back.

Blood sputtered out of his mouth as he looked down at the blade protruding from his chest. It seemed as if everything paused on the field of battle. Sansa watched with wide eyes as the man fell straight forward onto the ground. 

Sansa felt hope blossom in her chest at the heroic action of her brother. But it was snuffed out like a flame of a candle as one of the other attackers charged right at her savor. 

The man was a good 40 paces from Jon, but he was closing. Her brother just gazed down at the behemoth of the man he had just slain. He was frozen as death ran towards him.

“JON!” She did not even realize that she was the one that screamed his name until he looked in her direction. When Jon did so, he noticed the man. He lunged to the sword that was still impaled upon the giant. He grasped it with both hands and feverishly pulled at the blade, but it seemed to resist him.

Everything else faded away for Sansa as she looked on helplessly. Twenty paces, fifteen, then ten. The weapon sprung free. Jon half turned to meet the charging man. Lifting the oversized sword he barely deflected the oncoming blade from making contact with his head. Instead it only grazed his right cheek. Jon spun from the grazing blow. He took a step back as he let his momentum bring him fully back around to face the man head on.

The man swung wildly as Jon only focused on deflecting and evading the attacks. Block then step back, duck and slide to the right, block and leap away. Then one of the attacks proved to have too much force behind it. The man’s sword rushed down at an angle from above his right shoulder and made contact with Jon’s. The attacker's weapon came to a stop next to his left leg and even slightly behind him due to the force. While her hero’s sword knocked out of his hands and into the dirt. Sansa’s heart was in her throat and it felt like something was constricting her chest. 

Jon whipped his head over to where his sword laid. She knew what he wanted to do, but the man acted before he could. To keep Jon from going after the sword the man kicked out his right foot. Jon was flung back from the impact. His head bounces off of the ground as he makes contact with it. Jon is unmoving.

The murderer stalked over to him with his weapon hanging from his right hand. He gave it a twirl as he stood above the unmoving body. She watched as the sword was brought over Jon, with the tip pointing down.

Sansa turned away. Shutting her eyes as tears streamed down her face.

With her blood pounding in her ears she did not hear the deathblow.

A shout broke through. “Lady Josey please come quick!” Wait, Sansa knew that voice. She slowly opened her eyes and turned back towards the field. Jory stood over two people. Jon and the man that had killed him. Jory reached down and scooped up her brother’s body.

“Please come quickly with the horses. He is still alive, but he is unresponsive.” 

Sansa exhaled hard, not even noticing that she had been holding in her breath. Jon was alive! He was alive! She thanked the gods for this.

It seemed that Josey had gotten the horses free and she mounted her horse. While holding the reins to Sansa’s horse, along with the others, brought them swiftly over to where the remaining Stark guard stood with her brother. She quickly looked down at Jon, who did not have a gaping hole in his body. Shifting over to his attacker, she noticed that he was not so fortunate.

Arya seemed to just appear in front of Jon. She did not utter a word, only reaching out with a trembling hand. Arya hovered her hand over his chest before she closed it into a fist and brought it back to her own. Jon’s eyes were closed but his chest rose slightly to indicate that he was still breathing and not dead. Sansa could easily see the cut on his right cheek. She also noticed blood where the back of Jon’s head met Jory’s arm.

“Lady Josey, can you take Jon onto your horse and ride back to Winterfell? I need to try to see if I can save the others.” Jory tried to sound calm, but Sansa could hear the panic creeping into his voice.

“Yes of course. Quickly give him to me and put Arya on Sansa’s horse. We must get to Maester Luwin as fast as we can.”

Swiftly Jory positioned Jon in front of Josey. Arya did not protest as she was picked up and placed before Sansa. The guard made sure everyone was secure before sprinting over to his fallen friends with the reins to his horse.

“We must make haste now Sansa. Hold on to your sister and the reins, you can do this.” Sansa knew that Josey was trying to reassure her, but all it took was one look at her eyes to know that the governess was also in a panic.

Josey did not say anything more as she turned her horse around and took off in the direction of their home. Sansa quickly followed her lead.

Sansa felt Arya begin to cry, but she did not think anything of it. She was also crying. Her vision became blurred, so she focused on the shifting shape that was Josey on her horse. Sansa urges hers to go faster and prays to both the new and old gods to allow Jon to live.

Chapter Text

Ch 7. Cat V

October 294

“Thank you once again Lady Stark for your help and hospitality. I will send a raven with the materials that we will need once I take stock upon my return.”

“Of course Lord Cerwyn, I wish you safe travels on your return home.”

The man gave his thanks and exited the solar. Once the door shut Catelyn returned to her seat. Lord Medger Cerwyn came to Winterfell to talk to both her and Luwin about what one would need to build and maintain a successful greenhouse. 

Apparently his maester had given him the idea, but unfortunately passed away before he was able to actually do any real research into it. So instead of waiting for a new maester, who would be new to the north, he sought them out. And when the conversation inevitably shifted from greenhouses to marriage for future lords and ladies, Catelyn politely informed him where House Stark and herself stood on the matter. 

Maester Luwin had provided him with invaluable knowledge and given him the basic tools and materials required to build his own greenhouse. With the Lord satisfied, at least when it came to his future project, he was set on returning back to his keep and family.

Catelyn ran a hand over the papers that occupied the desk before her. She was in the middle of going over some reports when the Lord had arrived to announce his departure. Before she could get back to her work there was a knock. Great, what did he forget about.

She returned to her feet, but was not able to reply to the knock before the door opened. One look at her Uncle Brynden and she knew something was terribly wrong. His eyes were wide in panic and he was breathing deeply as if he ran to come tell her something.

“Cat please come quickly to the maester’s quarters, something has happened to Jon.”

She grabbed a fistful of her dress and swept around the desk. Her Uncle held the door open for her as she rushed out. Catelyn did not allow herself to think of anything else other than the route needed to get where the Maester was. She would not give into the panic and fear. Several of the servants had to dodge her as she rushed through the halls. She did not slow down to apologize to them. She would not let anything stop or slow her down.

When she reached the door she flung it open, not caring about what was proper. Frantically she took in the scene before her. Closest to her and the door was her daughters. They were both sharing a singular chair and had their arms wrapped around the other one. Both were crying. Further into the room was the governess. She stood at the base of one of the beds that occupied the room. Josey had both hands on the bed and seemed to be using it to help stabilize herself. Maester Luwin was hovering on the right side of the bed. And on the bed was Jon.

Catelyn was immediately on the left side of the bed. He was unmoving, but she noticed his chest still had a steady rise and fall to it. She took his hand in both of hers and turned towards the younger woman. “What happened? What happened to Jon?”

Josey shifted her eyes from the boy to her. She seemed to be in a slight state of shock, but was able to push past it with a fortifying breath. “We were on our picnic and the children had finished eating. They were playing in the field around us, running around. Then I heard both of the girls scream and I turned to see six men exiting out of the treeline. They were bandits or thieves or criminals, something of the such. The girls initially ran from them and myself and the guards ran towards them. But Arya was grabbed by the largest of the group and he did not let her go.”

Cat could not help but feel like her breath was stolen from her. She glanced over to her youngest, double checking that she was still there. She did not appear to be harmed, but the girl was currently tucked against her sister. Catelyn glanced down at her hands holding on to the lifeless one of Jon. A thought of clarity broke through the panicked thoughts Arya if fine, if she was hurt she would be occupying the other bed in the room. But Jon is not fine, he needs me.

“Then Sansa was on the ground and… and there was a man above her with his sword raised high, but Harrold got there first and saved Sansa before the strike could land. Harrold, Ethan, Jory and William all held off the attackers.” I should thank them when they come up here.

The governess again needed to take a breath. The woman brought her hands up to rub her arms. They were shaking and she had tears pooling in her eyes. The Maester continued to flutter about, checking on Jon and going to grab something from part of the room.

“I got to Sansa and got us to the horses. I just wanted to put as much distance between us and them because at that point William, Ethan and Harold were… no longer fighting. I-I was panicking and it took me too long to untie our horses. I don’t know all of what happened. Jory was fighting the last two, then I heard Sansa scream Jon’s name. He was standing over the large man with a free Arya running away. Then he was engaged with another attacker. Jon held his own, but he is still just a boy. Jory defeated the man he was facing and ran over to save Jon. But Jon had already taken a hit to the face, a kick and fell hard on the back of his head.”

“Jory sent us back here while he checked on the others. Jon has been unmoving the whole time, I just-I just don’t know.” The tears seemed to overtake the woman as she started to quietly sob.

Catelyn turned back to the boy laying in the bed. Softly she pushed hair back away from his forehead. A cut ran across his right cheek, it seemed about as long as her pinky, maybe a bit less. It did not seem deep. Leaning forward, Cat placed a light kiss above his right eye. Pulling back she noticed Luwin standing opposite of her. He gave her a sympathetic look.

“My Lady, if you would please help me lift him forward, I need to check out the back of his head and put a more secure bandage on it.”

Wordlessly she shifted and helped raise Jon up into a sitting position. Maester Luwin quickly removed the cloth that had been placed at the base of Jon’s head and went about checking the wound. She could not help herself but look. Hair was missing and it only made it easier to see the damage. There was a gash that was half the size of her palm and blood was still leaking out. How could a child possibly…

“No. No this can’t be happening again. I can’t lose someone else! Jon honey please wake up. Please be ok.” 

Cat did not bring up a hand to wipe away the tears rolling down her face. Because if she did that, she would drop her child back into his head. She would not drop him, despite how heavy he now feels to her shaking hands. 

Faintly she heard something being placed behind her. A moment later a large hand was gently placed on her shoulder.

“Cat, please take a seat and allow me to hold up Jon while the Maester is getting the bandages on.” His voice was gentle and soft. She could only nod her head in acquiesce. Her uncle placed his hands on Jon’s upper back. She let go of her hold only to take Jon’s hand in her own as she sat down in the chair that was now behind her. She brought it closer to herself as she cried into their joined hands.

—————————

The chair under Catelyn no longer felt uncomfortable. She had resided on it for so long that she was just numb to it. She rolled her shoulders to try and relieve the tension that did inhabit that part of her body.

It has been three days from the attack and two days since Jon has been moved into his own room and bed. Catelyn had seldom left his side. She had put Winterfell in the hands of her Uncle and Maester Luwin. They had only bothered her a few times when they deemed it absolutely necessary. She had asked Luwin several times if Jon would wake up and he would only say that it was up to the boy now. They had done all that they could to try and heal him along with making him comfortable. 

Cat finds that she can no longer focus on the prayer wheel in her hands. While it is nearing completion, her mind just won’t let her work anymore. She turns around and lays it gently on the bedside table. 

She knew that it was late and most of the castle was asleep or preparing to be. She took a glance over at Jon, who was still motionless under his covers. During the first two days Luwin had him on his side, so the wound did not receive any extra pressure on it, but he had lifted that rule today. Catelyn had been there to help the Maester every time that he came to attend to Jon. She helped with the changing of the bandages, making sure that he was comfortable, and giving him his needed water and substance. 

Currently he was flanked on either side by his sisters. Both of them refusing to leave their brother’s side. Sansa would help Luwin and herself when she was able to. She would hold the cloth and bandages or help keep Jon’s head upright when he received water or his nutrients. Arya would also try to help just like her older sister, but she was young plus it would turn into too many hands with not enough tasks. So she would often just talk to her brother even if he would continue to just sleep.

Theon even stopped by from time to time. He tended to help the Maester with any supplies being brought to Jon’s room. The boy liked to act like he did not care much about what was going on, which was a thing he did in general, but Catelyn could see past that. She was starting to think that Theon cared more about her children that she had previously been giving him credit for.

Both Sansa and Jory filled in more of the story about what happened near the Wolfswood. She was thankful for the guards that helped her girls make it out unscathed. She did leave the room to express her unending gratitude to Harrold, William and Ethan’s families. She would support them till the end of her days.

Jory had gone back the following day along with her Uncle and some others from Winterfell. While the crows had showed up, everything else was apparently still there. He had told her how each of the attackers' weapons seemed freshly made and of good material. Brynden told her how unusual he found that to be. Catelyn feared what that might mean, but she could not dwell on it at the moment.

Now she just wants her son to wake up so she could also convey her gratitude. That is on top of the fact that she just deeply cares for him and it would break her heart if he never woke up.

Jon is her son. That is something that she has come to understand. She thinks she knew even before this attack happened that he was her son in all of the ways that mattered. But seeing him on the bed, unmoving and on the brink of death, made her fully recognize the fact that she was his mother and he her son.

And now she might be losing another son.

The door slowly creaked open. With her tired eyes Catelyn could not make out who exactly the man was. The man turned and softly closed the door. He made his way directly over to the bed. 

Cat could hardly believe what she saw. “Benjen, is that you?” 

“Yes, I came up here as soon as I heard what happened.” He matched her low volume, but he kept his gaze on Jon. 

Catelyn watched as Benjen placed a hand on Jon’s forehead. He runs his hand through his nephew’s hair. “He reminds me of Lyanna. One time she took ill and slept for what seemed like days on end, at least to my child self it seemed like that. I don’t even really know why that thought came up.” 

Benjen moved away from the boy and picked up the chair that had been left at the base of the bed. He walked around and placed it next to her. She let him settle before engaging with him. 

“I did not know you were coming. There is no way that you could have heard about Jon and ridden down here in three days.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise. Along with the rest of the north, The Watch was also hit hard with that sickness. Then pair that with the Wildlings growing more and more aggressive, we are dangerously undermanned. At Castle Black we have just over 100 men.” 

Catelyn knew some of this. Lord Commander Mormont had sent letters and she had done what she could. But the North was still trying to get back to what it once was. 

“So the Lord Commander thought that a Stark would be better served as a wandering crow. He hopes with my name and history that lords will be more open to listening to our pleas. But enough about me, tell me about Jon’s recovery. The guards told me what happened when I arrived.”

‘Recovery’, I wish I was so confident that he will wake. But Catelyn did not voice her dark thoughts. She told her brother-in-law everything that the Maester had told her along with what she had been doing to aid him. Benjen stayed silent the whole time, just staring at Jon and taking in everything that she said. 

Once she was done they fell into a comfortable silence. Both of them watching over the boy they loved. 

“Why don’t you get some sleep. I can watch over the kids.”

“But you just rode in tonight. You must be tired yourself, I will have your room made up for you.” 

“Cat, I don’t want to come off as rude, but you look extremely tired. Let me watch over my nephew. I promise to wake you if anything changes or I need help with something.” 

Catelyn went to argue when Benjen gave her a look. While it was not a demanding look, it was close to it. But what made her really stop was how similar it looked to when Ned was trying to make her take care of herself. He would give her a look that matched Benjen’s now.

Letting out a sigh to show her displeasure, she accepted his request. She went over to the couch that her uncle had brought in after Jon was moved into his room. As she laid her head down she watched as Benjen moved closer to the bed. 

As she started to drift off, she could not help but be slightly amazed that her daughters did not wake up once. Especially Arya who was a light sleeper. But that thought quickly slipped away as sleep claimed her. 

——————————

The excited voices of young girls woke Catelyn from her slumber. 

Letting out a soft sigh, she took a moment to fully get her mind going. She bolted up into a sitting position with hope rising up in her. Thinking, or hoping, that maybe the girls were so excited due to Jon having woken up. She quickly scanned the bed. She could not help herself from being a little disappointed. The reason for their excitement was not Jon, but Benjen. They must have just gotten up and found their Stark Uncle sitting next to them. 

She watched as both the girls jumped into his outstretched arms. It was good to see them smile and laugh again. Winterfell has not seen much of either over the last few days. Her youngest caught her gaze and fixed her with a glare, or as much of a glare as a girl of five could. 

“Mama, why did you not wake me when Uncle Benjen arrived?” 

“Well both you and your sister needed sleep, so I did not want to wake you. Honestly I am surprised neither of you heard us talking last night, you must have both been in a deep sleep.”

At that both girls tensed up and stopped their group hug with Benjen. 

“What is it? Did you each have a nightmare?”

Sansa and Arya both in turn tilted their head downward and would not meet her gaze. 

Catelyn got up from the sofa and crossed the room. She took a moment to look Jon over to make sure that he remained unchanged. Next she shared a look with Benjen, but he seemed just as confused as her. Catelyn just shrugged her shoulders and knelt down next to them. It was obvious to her that this was something other than their brother. She hoped to figure out whatever was bothering them. So she can rectify the wrong. 

Gently she put a hand on each girl’s cheek. “What is it my sweets? You can tell me whatever ails you.”

Slowly they meet her eyes. Catelyn remained patient and let them work it out on their own. She could see in her eldest daughter's face when she decided to speak. 

“I had a dream, but it seemed so much more… I don’t know, real then a normal dream. Like it was happening or did happen I guess.” 

Her daughter looked at her for reassurance before she continued. Cat gave a small smile and a nod. 

“I dreamt of a northman. He had a Stark direwolf symbol on him. Around him were several dead bodies, including three people with white cloaks at the base of a tower. Everyone and everything was surrounded by sand. I, I think this person was…” she dropped her voice to a whisper and lost all confidence “father.” 

A sharp and quick pain shot through Catelyn. She swiftly tried to put up a blank face. She did not want to scare Sansa into stopping. She cleared her throat before prompting Sansa to continue.

“There was another man there, but he was hurt. From the tower came a woman’s cry. Father quickly ran up the steps and went to the top of the tower. There was an open door at the top and father went in. I tried to follow him but the door closed in my face and it was locked. But I heard some of their exchanges. The woman recognized father, and both of them were crying. The woman made father promise her that he will take care of a ‘him,’ but I could not understand everything that they were saying. I just don’t understand because this all seemed so real.”

Catelyn brought her daughter into a hug. While rubbing her back she hummed softly to her. It appeared to be difficult for her girl to get that all out. Before she could even think about the dream that Sansa had told her about, Arya abruptly started to speak.

“I also had a dream that was real. I also heard a woman crying. She was young and had a small blanket or something in her hand. She was also on the ground in front of the heart tree. Her hair looked like mine and Jon’s but longer. There was some mumbling about a child. I wanted to give her a hug so I walked towards her. But before I could I was sucked into the ground and was dropped onto the floor in the crypts. I was in front of a woman’s tomb and she had a winter rose in her hand. A breeze blew it from her hands and it landed on the base of the tomb facing me. Then the flower was sucked into the tomb and disappeared.” 

“You, you saw that all in your dream?” 

Arya stomped her right foot. “Yes and it was real, I know it.” 

Catelyn shifted Sansa so she was more on her right side. Arya ran into Catelyn’s left side and her outstretched arm. She whispered reassurances to them both and turned over in her mind what she had been told. 

Arya talked about Lyanna’s tomb, that was obvious. She also described a woman who could have also been her aunt. Sansa’s dream seemed to be about Ned’s rescue of Lyanna. While he never told her the full story, over time Ned told her enough details to know that it matched up with Sansa’s dream. 

Cat took a glance up at Benjen. He was nearly as white as snow. 

She kept up her soothing tone as she broke the silence that had settled over them. “Ok girls, I am going to have you both look after Jon while Benjen and I go get some breakfast for us.” 

Both of them nodded and lightly got onto the bed. Benjen was frozen in place and only moved when she placed her hand on his arm to guild him out. 

Once they were both out in the hall she closed the door so the children would not hear them. 

“Both of my girls dreamed of Lyanna.” 

Benjen gave a shaky nod. 

“Do you know what promise Ned might have agreed to?”

This time she got a shake of the head. Why did this all have to be unclear.

“Do you know what that small blanket could have been?” 

Again another head shake. 

“Benjen talk to me, don’t lock this away. We both know that keeping dangerous thoughts and emotions does nobody any good.” 

The man finally looked at her. He took a moment to process what she was saying. 

“Both of them had dreams that they claim were real or more than a normal dream. Old Nan used to say that Starks… and both of the dreams involved my sister. Jon reminded me of her and they both…” 

He started to pace back and forth in front of the door. Catelyn could not make much sense of what he was saying. He was acting erratic. She feared she might spook him if she pushed him again. 

Back and forth, back and forth. 

Abruptly he spun to face her “You go get order food for the girls, then come join me in front of Lyanna’s resting place.” And before she could even reply he was off down the hall. Left with no choice, Catelyn went to get food for the girls. 

————————

The torch light lit her path as she descended further into the crypts. At some point she noticed a thumping sound and it only grew louder the closer she got to Lyanna’s tomb. The sound turned into more like a cracking noise, like someone was striking stone. 

“Benjen, is that you?” 

No response, but that could be due to the sound drowning her out. Picking up the pace she continued on. 

When the torchlight finally stretched out and allowed her to see Lyanna’s tomb, she saw Benjen striking the base of it. He must have broken part of it because Cat could see a few pieces of the once smooth stone, littering the ground around where he knelt. 

She started to question his sanity, but stopped herself. His erratic behavior back in the hallway made her keep those words to herself. Also if anyone would be allowed to deface Lyanna’s final residence, it would be her brother. 

“Benjen, could you tell me what you are doing by breaking the base of Lyanna’s tomb?” 

“Could you bring your torch a little lower please. I think I am almost through the outer part.”

Wordlessly she dropped down into a crouch beside him. She asked again what he was doing, but once again she was ignored. 

He continued to hack away at the stone until suddenly the hammer went through the stone. Her brother-in-law doubled his efforts to make a larger hole at the base of the tomb. 

A few moments later he set the tool down and grabbed his torch off of the ground. Shifting it closer he moved his offhand into the opening that had been created. Catelyn noted that he seemed to be rummaging about before abruptly stopping. With a steady hand he retracted his arm. The flickering flames from the two torches created this eerie feeling that clung to Cat as she watched.

As if his hand dipped into a dark abyss, it returned, but there was something in it. Slowly the object was brought between both of the torches. It was oval like in shape. It was black with swirls of white and speckled with red.

Catelyn knew what it was. She had read enough about them and seen drawings. But it just could not be. She was unable to voice her thoughts. This was beyond anything that Catelyn could have imagined. To find this thing in the tomb of her sister-in-law. Wait, how did Benjen know to look here? It was just a dream of Arya’s.

He reached up with his other hand and pulled off a small note. Catelyn had not even realized it was attached to the thing. Silently he studied the folded parchment before opening it.

“This, this is my sister’s writing.” He seemed to study the note before reading it aloud. 

“To truly see , one must be beneath the Weirwood Tree. 

With the sappy tears, one can adapt to their ailments and fears.

To overcome the Ice, there will be a heavy price.

But as long as there is love, the people will have a chance to rise above.”

As if this could not get any more strange, now they apparently have a note from Lyanna Stark who is speaking in riddles. Benjen pocketed the note and checked the secret cavity once more.

“Alright let us go back to Jon and give him this dragon egg.”

“Wait. Just wait a second. What are you talking about and how did you know there was something in your sister’s tomb? Just because Arya had a dream about a rose falling there? None of this makes any sense.”

Benjen closed the distance between them before replying to her frantic inquiries. “I knew something was there in part because of Arya’s dream, but there is much more than that. So much more and everything is starting to make sense.”

“What are you talking about, none of this makes any sense!”

She watches as he takes a calming breath. He shifts the egg in his arm and glances at the statue next to them. Clenching her fists open and closed Catelyn tries to be patient and let Benjen gather his thoughts and evidence to prove how all of this could possibly make sense.

“Old Nan used to tell us stories about the abilities that the first men had, in particular those of House Stark. One of those special and magical talents took the form of dreams. How people could dream and have visions. They could see different places at different times. It is said that these dreams felt like something more than just normal dreams. They could feel real to those who had this capability. We know Ned saved Lyanna in a tower from the Kingsguard and there was one other survivor. So we know what she dreamed really happened. Then Arya described Lyanna, someone she has never seen before and honestly don't even know who that is. Then talked about a Winter rose which was Lyanna’s favorite.”

Catelyn felt like something was compressing down on her chest. She remembers children’s stories about heroes of old having inhuman capabilities. While she does not know anything about prophetic or all knowing dreams, she has heard some of Old Nan’s outlandish tales.

“Both girls firmly believe that these dreams were more than just your average dreams. Both of them involved my dead sister, but she was grieving about someone else. In Arya’s it was a child and in Sansa’s she wanted a promise to protect a male. Both of them had these visions while they were sleeping next to a severely wounded Jon.”

She could not stop the flinch at the mention of her wounded son. She tried to keep focus on the story that was being crafted.

“I myself even noticed how much alike Jon looks to my sister when I first saw him last night. On top of all of this I could never believe that my wild sister would allow herself to be taken against her will. She would have made her captured lives a living hell. Always trying to escape or fight them. She would have killed them herself, to keep them from taking her as a pawn. And honestly it is more realistic that Jon is not Ned’s son.”

Everything around her came to a screeching halt. Not Ned’s son. That invisible object that was pressing down on her chest felt like it was multiplied tenfold. Her breath was sucked out of her. Desperately she tried to gulp more back in.

“What do you-. Do you mean to say that Jon… Is Lyanna’s ?”

“That is exactly what I am saying. Both girls saw her in their visions. She was crying for someone else, a boy. Jon has her same Stark features. And now we find a dragon egg at the base of her tomb with a handwritten note attached.”

Catelyn felt like the ground had dropped out from under her. Her hand whipped out to give her balance and to help ground herself. Jon was not the son of her husband. Ned had lied to her. He never told her the truth about Jon. Why! 

Did he not trust her? Even after everything that they had built together? She had birthed him four children. She watched over the North when he went off to war. She held Winterfell together during that great crisis. 

Did he think that she would turn on her family and report to the king who Jon really was? Or maybe that she could not love a motherless child? Catelyn would forever regret how she treated sweet and kind hearted Jon. But now, she loves him. She has become his mother and he her son.

Her ears felt hot along with her head. Tears were now rolling down her face. Tears of anger, sadness and confusion. All of the emotions that assaulted her were just too much. She furiously swiped her face, but that did not stem the flow.

She tilted her head up while blinking away the tears. Through her blurred vision she saw a stone figure above her.

Lyanna.

Jon had also been lied to. And if Lyanna was his mother then his real father was…

“Benjen, do you know this for sure?”

“Yes. On top of all these factors that point to Lyanna being his mother, I just have this feeling in my soul. I know Jon is the son of Lyanna.”

Catelyn did not know if she could take that as confirmation or not. But… maybe it was enough. All of these puzzle pieces were fitting together in her mind. The true nature of Lyanna plus that of her husband. Then some of his final words appeared in her mind.

“Before Ned passed away he asked Maester Luwin about Jon. When he heard that Jon was still not affected by the illness he said ‘It must be his blood that keeps him safe.’ I know some say that Targaryen are sometimes unaffected by some illnesses. That something in their blood heals or protects them. What if he was talking about that?”

“Hmm, he could have been. Ned would often say that Jon is of ‘my blood’, which is true as Jon was his nephew.”

Ned had even given Catelyn that same line during some of their “disagreements” revolving around Jon.

“Let us just go back upstairs to Jon and the girls. This is just too much to deal with down here.”

——————————

The feeling of Jon’s hair between her fingers helped to ground Catelyn. All of this had long ago overwhelmed her. She willed herself to focus on her immediate surroundings before delving into all that had occurred just today.

Cat kept her eyes close and concentrated on the sound of the crackling logs in the fireplace. She was leaning against the headboard of Jon’s bed. He was tucked against her right side. She was running her fingers through his hair. Careful to avoid the wound and the bandages that wound around from the back of his head to his forehead. To Catelyn’s left was her other daughter Arya. On the other side of Jon was Sansa who was holding onto his hand. But under her son’s arm was the egg.

Benjen had originally been the one to say that they should tell the girls the truth about Jon. While during normal circumstances Catelyn would be extremely reluctant with telling a girl of five such a major secret, she felt like she could do so this time around. Both of the girls had dreams related to the birth of their cousin and she felt like that was the gods doing. So Benjen and herself decided to tell her girls, her Uncle and Luwin what they found and now believe to be the truth surrounding Jon’s birth. 

In fact Sansa herself helped, at least in Catelyn’s mind, confirm that Jon is the son of Lyanna and Rhaegar Targaryen. Everyone had been fascinated with the dragon egg that had been found down in the crypts. While it was being passed around, Sansa had taken the note that was found with the egg. After reading it for herself she took it over to the candle on the bedside table. At first Catelyn had panicked, due to seeing the note so close to an open flame. But her daughter kept it from burning and just moved it up and down above the fire.

This had revealed the secret words that were at the top of the page. It said “To my future dragonwolf pup.” When Luwin had asked how she knew that there was a secret message on the page, her daughter had replied that it was in a story Jon had read to her. That a prince had used this method of secret writing to communicate with his princess. 

For Catelyn this was the last tidbit of info needed to confirm who Jon’s parents were. Unfortunately they did not know if Lyanna and Rhaegar were married or not. They had gone around and around bringing up everything that points one way or another, but the fact of the matter is they could not confirm anything. Which is why tomorrow she is going to have a raven sent to Howland Reed. 

Catelyn began to drift off. The fire and the warm bodies lulling her into a shallow sleep.

Movement from beneath her brought her back to consciousness. She blinked away the sleep and sat up some.

She focused on the groan that came to her right. Jon twisted his head to the right before slowly rocking it back. Cat held her breath to see if he did anything more. 

His left hand came up to rub his head. He let out another groan. His eyes fluttered a little before he was able to keep them open. 

“Jon, honey, can you hear me? Are you awake?” 

*Groan* “I think so” His voice was soft and wavered some, but she was able to make it out just fine. A good sign she thought.

“Are you in any pain? Do you need me to get anything for you?” Catelyn felt both of her girls begin to stir.

“My head hurts, really badly. Could you please remove the cloth that is over my eyes.”

Catelyn felt her throat and jaw go tight as she looked down into Jon’s eyes.

“Baby what- what do you mean?”

“The cloth or whatever is over my eyes. I can’t see you.”

She could not stop the sobs that came out of her, no matter how hard she tried. 

“Oh Jon. My baby boy, there is nothing covering your eyes.”

Chapter Text

Ch 8 Benjen 1

October 294

Benjen just watched as the raven disappeared into the blue sky. He could only hope Lord Reed would receive the message by the same channel that he received Ned’s old ravens. He did not move from his vantage point next to the window as he just stared out it. Thankfully Maester Luwin did not say anything to him as he silently stood vigil. The Maester left the rookery and let the last child of Rickard stew with his thoughts. 

He felt so lost. More so than when he first joined the watch or the first time he went beyond the wall or even when he got word that Ned had succumbed to illness. The last time Benjen felt this lost was when the Mad King murdered his father and brother. When his sister was missing and his last brother went off to war. When it felt like he was the only Stark left and the truths were hidden under muddy water, just out of sight.

Benjen did not think that he had a right to be angry about the truth of Jon’s birth. Catelyn was Ned’s wife. He should have trusted her with the truth. Instead he kept it to himself and let her neglect a lonely child, which now causes her great misery. She should feel betrayed and upset with Ned. Jon himself has a right to be vexed, at least he should when they get around to telling him. He was made to feel unworthy and unloved. Ben knew that the boy often wondered who his mother was. And Ned kept that from him AND took it to the grave. Jon had a right to know, it was his greatest wish.

But Benjen could not help the way that he feels. He loved his sister. He was unashamed to name her as his favorite sibling, his best friend. If Ned would have trusted him with the truth Ben would have stayed. He would have stayed in Winterfell to watch over, protect and care for the boy. Instead he felt at fault for helping Lyanna all those years ago at that fateful tournament. Maybe if he had not helped her with her armor she would not have captured the crown princes’ attention. Or maybe he should have payed more attention to her, he might have shrugged her off at one point which caused her to not trust him with Rhaegar. Maybe if he knew about Jon he would have felt like there was a place for him in this world.

What made him unworthy of knowing the truth? What did his brother see in him that stayed his hand? At first when he heard from both Sansa and Arya about their dreams he only focused on uncovering the mystery, but now he had time to think about what had happened. And he just feels rage towards Ned. And he will never know the truth about why Ned kept it from him.

Now to make matters worse Jon was blind. He should have been here for his nephew and nieces. It should not have taken the truth about who Jon’s mother was to make him feel like he should have stayed at Winterfell. He hates himself for his decisions. He hates that his nephew is blind. He hates that they don’t fully know the circumstances surrounding Jon’s birth. Was Lyanna kidnaped and held against will, Ben did not think so. Or did she go with Rhaegar willingly, and if so were they married or just lovers. 

His head was hurting.

When he first awoke this morning he was overjoyed when he listened to Catelyn talking with Jon. Until the floor dropped out from under everyone. Useless would be the perfect word to describe how Benjen feels about himself. Pushing away from the window, Benjen started his trek back to the boy’s room.

Benjen had left Jon once the boy finally went back to sleep, with some help from a small dose of milk of the poppy. It had been painful for everyone in that room. The crazy thing was that when Jon felt Sansa and Arya grab onto him, he questioned them, in between his sobs, to make sure that they were ok after the attack. Catelyn had wanted her girls to leave the room and give Jon space to try and process what happened to him, but they begged her to let them stay. It was only when Jon gave the ok did Catelyn relent and allowed them to.

Benjen came to Jon’s door and found Theon Greyjoy outside of it. He was shifting his weight from one foot to the other while looking down at the base of the door.

“Theon, would you like to go inside and see Jon?”

The boy jumped and spun around with his eyes blown wide. They just stared at each other until Theon found his voice. “Is it true what they say about Jon? That he is…”

“Yes, it seems that the fall to the back of the head has taken away his sight. You can come in and see him if you want, though he might be asleep.”

“No no. I will, I will come back later. Best to let him rest.” Quickly the boy ducked his head and scurried down the hall.

Sighing Benjen entered the room. Jon was still sleeping with his cousins on either side. Benjen would forever be thankful to Sansa for finding those secret words. But Catelyn was not on the bed or sitting in the chair next to it. Instead she was up pacing near the hearth with the note/riddle that Lyanna had attached to the dragon egg.

Once he was close enough to whisper to Catelyn, Ben told her that he had sent the raven off like she had wanted. She only hummed in response and just kept on marching. While he would never tell her this out loud, she did not look good. She had bags under her eyes and her hair was frazzled. She was past the point of needing rest. But as Benjen looked at her, he noticed that she did not look tired, sad or angry, but in deep thought. Like she was trying to put together some unseen puzzle pieces.

Abruptly she stopped in front of him and shoved the paper towards him. He took it and she resumed pacing. A moment passed before she addressed him.

“What does the first two lines of that message say.”

“To truly see , one must be beneath the Weirwood Tree. With the sappy tears, one can adapt to their ailments and fears.”

“What if we take Jon to the Weirwood tree and put some of the sap on his eyes? Maybe it will heal him or let him adapt in some way.”

It took Benjen a second to process what Catelyn was suggesting. “So you think that Lyanna somehow knew this or something like it would happen to her son?” 

“Well why not? Both of my daughters had dreams that seemed to come from the gods. And I know what people say about Lyanna, that she had Wolf’s blood in her. So maybe she also had those dreams that Old Nan told you Stark children about.” 

She had stopped her explanation and was just looking at him. But if Cat was wanting him to give his opinion, well she would have to keep on waiting. He did not know what to think. On one hand he hoped it to be true. It would help Jon. But on the other hand if she did have visions, what could they have been. Only about this one thing or could there have been more. Did she feel like she had to go with the prince because of a dream? Or that she was destined to die in that tower? He was pulled out of his dark thoughts by the woman before him. 

“Well I think it is worth a shot. Even if it only ends in heartbreak, it is worth it to try and heal Jon.”

Letting out a low sigh he replied “If you are sure about this then I will help.” 

“I am.”

Catelyn turned away from him and looked over to the boy in question. Benjen followed her gaze over towards the bed. Jon looked so peaceful in sleep, like there was nothing wrong with the world around him. All of the features that Benjen had attributed to Ned he now found himself shifting them over and comparing them to Lyanna. It made him grieve for his sister.

“Catelyn, if we are going to do this, Jon is going to wonder how we got this crazy idea.”

“We are going to have to tell him”

Benjen could only nod along with her. She sounded so resolute. Ben just hoped that she was right.

——————————

A whisper broke the silence.

“C-Catelyn are you still there?”

The woman in question shot up out of the bedside chair. She answered him while gently placing her hand on his shoulder.

“Yes I am Jon. Do you need anything?”

“Water would be nice, but I don’t think I can hold it without waking either Sansa or Arya.”

From the couch Benjen could see that each of the Stark girls had taken a hold of one of his arms. Both latched on in support of their hero, as they had each dubbed him, even in their sleep.

“I do not think that they would mind if we woke them.” 

Catelyn shifted her hand from Jon over to Sansa, who was closest to her. The girl woke up quickly and released her hold. Arya followed suit when Cat got her up. Everyone watched as Jon greedily drank from the cup of water he was given. Once he had had his fill Catelyn took the cup and placed her hand over his.

“Jon I wanted to talk to you about something, would you like to join me on the couch while I talk to you?”

Jon nodded and shuffled over to the edge once Sansa had dropped down off of it. He kept his hand in Catelyn’s while he dismounted. He dropped off the bed and nearly fell to the ground. His legs shook from disuse and only stabilized himself by tightly holding on to Catelyn. 

It broke Benjen’s heart all over again as he watched his nephew hobble and shake his way over to the couch. Catelyn took her seat first. When Jon went to sit next to her, she put her other hand on his side and directed him to sit in her lap. 

Catelyn engulfed him in a hug and gently rocked him. She kissed the side of his head and seemed to take a deep breath with her nose buried in his hair.

“I love you Jon. I love you like a son. And not because you are injured or because of your heroic act that helped save Sansa and Arya. I have felt this way for a while but was too much of a coward to say such things. I have been a coward for much of my life. I just want you to know that I love you, no matter who your mother is or what happens in the future.”

While Benjen was also sitting on the couch with the pair of them, Jon was turned away from him. But Ben could see his body start to shake and hear the sniffles. Benjen was shocked by the omission from Catelyn Stark. He knew that she cared for the boy, but he did not know the true extent of her feelings towards him. Jon’s grip tightened on her and after a few broken attempts he was able to croak out a response.

“I love you too Catelyn. Would it, would it be ok if… I call you mother?”

Ben watched as the tears silently streamed down the woman’s face.

“Yes, of course you can do that Jon. That is if you still want to after you listen to what Benjen and myself have to say.”

Catelyn took a moment to collect herself, still rocking Jon, before the big moment. Benjen noticed that both of the girls took a seat on the ground in front of them. They were silently waiting for the reveal. Ben did not know if Catelyn was going to be able to get it all out, but he was ready to step in if needed. 

“While you were…  recovering, both Sansa and Arya had dreams. They both dreamed of Lyanna Stark. Sansa dreamed about when Ned found her in that tower in Dorne. Arya saw her crying here in the Godswood and then of her statue.”

Jon had tucked his head under Catelyn’s chin. While her hands had a slight shake to them, they were moving though his hair. Benjen was not sure who drew more comfort from the act. 

“Benjen knew what Lyanna looked like in her youth and with the visions from the girls, he went down to investigate her crypt. There was a small enclosed space that your Uncle was able to break into. Inside there was… a note attached to a dragon egg.” 

Jon let out a gasp. He tilted his head up to look at her, but seemed to realize that did nothing for him. Sadly he returned his head to under Cat’s chin. 

“A dragon egg? What, what does it look like?” 

“It is mainly black, but has swirls of white and specks of red.”

“Can I hold it?” 

“Of course you can. Actually you have held it some in your sleep, we laid it down next to you.”

The boy just nodded mutely. Catelyn easily shifted back toward the story she was telling. 

“The note on the egg was written by Lyanna herself. But there was a secret message written with a special ink that only showed up when Sansa held it over a flame. It said ‘To my future dragonwolf pup.” 

She paused again. To let that info sink in or to prepare herself, Benjen was not sure. Catelyn had the whole room waiting with baited breath. 

“She left that note and egg for you Jon. You are the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen.”

Everyone stared at the boy. But Jon seemed to be frozen in Catelyn’s arms. The only sound was the fire. Finally he spoke, but in a very small voice.

“But I am the son of Ned. His bastard”

Benjen decided to step in at this point. 

“Jon, you are not the son of my brother, but of my sister. Both Sansa and Arya had visions in the form of dreams, like the Starks of old. They did so while sleeping next to you. They both dreamed of Lyanna crying over a boy. One was asking Ned to protect him, the other was her weeping over a child, while you have been lying here injured for three days. Then we find a dragon egg in her tomb, which would be given to Targaryen children and we know Lyanna and Rheagar spent a lot of time together. And in her note she talked about it being for her future dragonwolf pup. Ned claimed you as his bastard to protect you from Robert Baratheon.” 

The crackling of the fire was the only thing that could be heard. To Benjen it seemed to fill the room with its loud cracks. Nobody moved a muscle, just glued their eyes on the boy before them. Benjen has never seen Jon look so small. 

“So I am the product of the prince’s rape”

Benjen leapt to the ground before Catelyn and Jon and moved to incase him. 

“No, I don’t believe that. Lyanna would have never accepted her circumstances if she had been captured. Rhaegar crowned her queen of love and beauty at the tournament. I saw her smile when he won and when he put that crown on her head. I believe you were born of love. The way the secret message was written speaks of her love to you. You were loved from birth Jon, just as you are loved now.” 

“What Benjen says is true Jon. Benjen loves you as do I. While they are technically your cousins, both Sansa and Arya love you. This reveal does not change that for us.” 

The tears were clear for all to see and the weeping to hear. Both girls scrambled up onto the couch to further engulf Jon with love. Time seemed to slip by, but no one appeared to mind. 

Eventually the tears were stemmed. 

“I wanted to tell you this for two reasons. One is you deserve to know who your parents are. The other is I believe that in Lyanna’s message she wanted us to put some of the Weirwood tree sap over your eyes. It might.. help with your injury.” 

———————————-

The air was crisp, but it would not bother a Stark. Benjen took in the trees that he was walking under. It had been a while since he had been in Winterfell’s godswood. This was one of the few places that truly seemed timeless and Benjen felt at home here.

He was walking along next to the Blackfish. Benjen was still grateful that the famous knight had decided to come help his niece during her time of need. Ben wished that he had been able to step up and do the same, but he swore himself to the wall. Which just added to his self loathing.

Before him in a neat line walked the rest of the Starks. Jon was holding onto the hands of Sansa and Catelyn, who had Arya’s hand grasped in her other hand. It was obvious that Jon was still reeling from everything that had happened to him. And he would be for some time. Ben just hoped that eventually Jon would be able to at least accept all that has happened.

Both of his nieces had yet to fully digest the new reality that their cousin now faces. Hells none of them have fully accepted it. Not Catelyn, the Blackfish or Benjen himself. Which brought him back to his self loathing because by this time tomorrow he would be out on the road heading south. While on a personal level Benjen knew that traveling on the open road will help him process everything that has transpired. But while he would be helping himself process this on the open road, his family would be miles away. And he would be unable to help.

Their group came upon the weirwood tree. To Benjen it felt like they were even closer to the gods than normal as they stood before the great tree. Catelyn tucked Jon against her side and silently led the pair of them closer.

Benjen stepped up to Sansa and Arya. “Girls, why don’t you stay with your uncle Brynden while I join your mother and Jon.” 

Both of them gave hesitant nods before shuffling closer to their other uncle.

Benjen went around the pool of water and knelt down next to his nephew and Cat. For a moment he just ran his hand through the boy’s hair while Catelyn held him in a half hug. The silence washed over the group and Benjen drew some comfort in that moment. Just his family and his gods. Slowly he raised up and found himself before the face of the weirwood. The sap that had run down from its red sappy eyes was dry. He took out his dirk and slowly started to peel away the dried up sap that was the otherworldly red eyes of the tree. Benjen took great care while performing his act. He wanted to show respect to the old gods. There felt like there was magic in the air around him, gently pressing down on him.

Behind him Benjen could hear Catelyn talking softly to Jon, but he kept his gaze on the red eyes. The hard sap gave way to a softer version. With reverence Benjen collected some onto his knife and then wiped that onto a short plank of wood that he had brought. He repeated this a few times, until he got what he figured was enough to perform the ritual. He crouched back down before Cat and locked eyes with her. She had tears gathering there, but she gave him a firm nod.

Swiping his first two fingers over the red sap, he gathered it from the plank. Benjen applied it over Jon’s closed eyes. The boy recoiled slightly the first time, but after that stayed still. Benjen covered the left eye before going over to the right. Once he was finished he put the wood plank on the ground and they waited. Benjen was not really sure what they were supposed to do. Glancing at Cat he hoped to find direction. But the woman was not looking at him. Her eyes were closed, but her lips were moving silently. Jon in the meantime had gone as still as stone with his head tilted up slightly. He was no longer rocking back and forth. He also seemed to no longer be breathing even for that matter. Benjen lifted his arm up in an attempt to check. He was nearly touching his neck when the sap started to glow.

Benjen froze, mystified by the eerie glow. The sap continued to increase in brightness until it forced Benjen to cover his eyes. Then just as suddenly as it began, the blinding light rescinded. Ben removed his hands and had to blink rapidly to readjust to his surroundings. Jon was limply laying against Catelyn, who was furiously removing the red sap from his face. The moment that Jon’s eyelids became visible again they shot open.

Wildly he spun his head around, his eyes seeming to shoot about.

“Jon, my child, are you ok? Can you, can you see?”

His movements started to slow as he settled in Catelyn’s arms. Benjen watched as he seemed to meet the hopeful gaze of his adoptive mother.

“I think so. I can see you and Uncle Benjen.” 

Benjen felt a smile spread over his features and Catelyn had the same happening to her.

“But where are Sansa, Arya and Ser Brynden?”

Cat’s smile faltered some, but she regained it quickly. “They are over there sweetling, on the other side of the pond.”

Jon turned his head, but he kept on turning past the point that he should have been able to see them. If Benjen had to guess the distance between them, he would say it was eighteen feet or so. 

Jon returned his gaze back to Catelyn. He sounded slightly disappointed when he spoke. “I can’t see them. The man must have been telling the truth.”

Benjen was confused by this, as was Catelyn.

“Jon, what man are you talking about? There is only the Blackfish and myself out here.”

The boy turned to look at him before giving his reply.

“When you finished putting the sap on me I heard a man start to speak. He sounded like he was very old, but held a great wealth of knowledge. He said that the old gods could partially return my sight to me. I would be able to see things that were near to me, but that would be the extent of it when the weirwood sap was removed. But he told me that he would help me understand and use the other ability that the gods were gifting me with. He said that with this I would be able to sense things that were outside of my range of sight. But that was all that he said before he seemed to disappear and then the sap was removed.”

Catelyn and Benjen exchanged a glance. Confusion crossed between them both. Nobody else seemed to have heard this voice. Maybe it was the voice of the old gods? 

Cat exhaled a shaky breath “But you can see me right?”

“Yes mother, I can.”

Catelyn brought the child into a crushing embrace.

“I have no idea about any voice coming from an older man, but I am just glad that the old gods returned your sight, regardless of the distance or any other special ability. I love you my son.” 

“I love you too, Mother. I am just happy to be able to see again. Thank you both.”

Tears fell from Jon’s eyes as he tightly returned the hug. The girls decided that they had waited long enough as they sped around the water between them and their cousin. They both crashed into Jon. Their mother extended her hold to account for the new additions. Benjen felt hope start to rise up from within. Maybe the old gods were starting to shine upon the Starks and maybe everything will be alright. Even if he would not be able to stay to see it.

Chapter Text

Ch 9. Sansa II

November 294

It has been one week since Jon’s sight was returned to him. One week since the old gods helped her cousin. Even if Jon’s sight was not the same as before, he at least has some of it. Her cousin, her hero. 

Sansa did not know how to describe it, but Jon being her cousin just felt right. When her mother and Benjen told her and Arya, something just clicked. Like someone had stuck flint and lit a torch. 

She had found herself thinking back to her dream. This mainly occurred during the quiet of night. She wondered if she had experienced that vision of the tower before. But until she was laying next to an injured Jon, she was unable to remember it until that moment. 

Either way things had changed for their family since that day in the godswood. For starters her mother had made sure that Jon, Arya and herself each had a guard with them at all times during the first few days after the godswood. Arya hated it because she could not just run off whenever she wanted. But Sansa did not mind. She had pretended that she was a princess and her guard was actually a member of the kingsguard. Even if she found herself thinking less and less about princesses and their valiant knights post bandit attack. Something about those tales seemed to have lost their luster. She asked her lady mother why they needed a Stark guard with them, but all her mother had said was the security was for basic protection. But Sansa felt that there was something there, just out of sight. But yesterday she had changed it so the guards would only stand sentry outside their doors during the night. Or if they left Winterfell, which they had not done since that day.

Along with the guards Sansa noticed how her mother and her uncle seemed to whisper to each other more and more. It was not the kind of fun whispering she would do with Jeyne or Jon. No, these exchanges seemed tense. The two of them did not know that Sansa was watching them, but she was. She had made a promise to herself and the gods to be more vigilant. 

Arya has also changed some. Well not really, mainly just what she bothered their mother with. At least three times a day her sister demanded to be taught the ways of a sword. Sansa could not imagine why. Arya was a five name day old girl who would have a guard with her at all times if she left their castle. Though at night a small voice would whisper that Sansa knew exactly why Arya wanted to learn, but she chooses to ignore that during the light of the day. 

But the biggest changes revolve around Jon. Their mother had forbade him from riding a horse, at least for the foreseeable future. She feared that he would be unable to make out what was coming at him and would not be able to react in time. This was the same reasoning she used when it came to him practicing with his sword. He seemed to accept this and just moved on, which Sansa found surprising at the time. But it seemed his limited sight was not the only issue that plagued him.

A few nights ago she had asked Jon to read to her. She thought it would have been a good way to bring him out of his dark mood. So he picked out a book about the Starks of old. It was a fascinating retelling of some of the early Kings of Winter and their deeds. But after a few minutes he started to rub at his eyes and temple. These actions only increased with time until Sansa finally asked him what was wrong. 

It turns out that reading, or having to focus on small details like words on a page, gives Jon really bad headaches. He can read or look at a map for a time, but eventually it becomes too difficult for him to continue. So she had taken up the role as the reader. And while she was more than capable of doing so, it made her sad for her cousin. It had been their special thing that had always been there for them. But earlier today Sansa had decided that the act of reading together was what the pair actually shared, not just the act of Jon reading to her.

So now that she had finished her lessons with the governess Josey, she was walking to the library tower to pick out a new book. She had already set a parameter in her mind that it must be a book involving the Targaryens. As of late Jon had only been interested in Stark books. Sansa wanted to remind her cousin of how great the other half of his family was.

She was nearly at the door to the tower when she caught a flash of movement off to her left. Quickly she turned her head to try and find the source of the movement. She notices a small figure with brown hair running towards the stables with a lengthy object in hand. Arya ended up running to the edge of the stables, quickly looked around, and went around the far side.

Sansa just knew that her sister was up to no good. Shaking her head, Sansa went to follow. As usual it was up to her to stop her sister from doing something stupid.

Sansa came to the edge of the stables and pressed up against the wood. Slowly she peered around the corner. Underneath the castle wall was her sister waving a wooden sword around. Silently Sansa watched as Arya would swing her stolen weapon a few times, turn around and repeat the process again. Clumsily she shifted her feet around while doing so. It looked more like a sad attempt at a dance rather than an imitation of what the guards do to practice. Deciding that she had seen enough, Sansa brought her full body around the corner and marched directly towards the delinquent that was her sister.  

“Arya! What are you doing?”

Her sister was mid swing when she shouted at her. Arya's foot caught the ground and she stumped forward a few steps before spinning around to face her. Surprise quickly gave way to anger on the girl’s face.

“Practicing with sword, stupid.”

Ah! Stupid? How dare she! “Shut up Arya, I can see you swinging that wooden sword around. What I really mean is what do you think you are doing? You are not supposed to even have a sword, much less be ‘practicing’ with one.”

“Well I am practicing because I want to. And I… happened to find this one.”

“Liar! Besides you are a lady, you should not be practicing how to fight.”

“Well Mormont women fight, Josey said. So that means they practice.”

“Well you are just five name days old plus a lady of house Stark. I am going to go tell mother.”

Sansa turned around and started marching off to find their mother. But before she could get back around the stables, Arya called out to her. Her voice had lost all of its superiority and had changed into a tone of desperation.

“What Sansa, please don’t tell mother!”

She was about to just continue on her way when she heard a voice in her head tell her to be nice to her sister and hear her out. That voice might have sounded a little bit like Jon. He had been trying to keep both Arya and herself from fighting. Sansa let out a sigh and slowly turned to face her sister.

“Fine, but you have to tell me the real reason you are out here with a sword because I don’t think it's just because you want to practice.”

Arya seemed to find the dirt before her interesting. Her shoe started to move around in it and Arya kept her eyes on that. Sansa waited for her sister to respond. Personally she felt proud of her patience at this moment because Arya was making it difficult. Arya took a few steps forward before facing her properly.

“Well I do want to practice, but… this is something that I have to do. I have to practice so I can protect.”

“You don’t have to protect us, we have guards that follow us around if we were ever to leave Winterfell. And Mother said that she would be sending much more with us than just three. And we have guards stationed at our doors during the night.”

“But it might not be enough! We don’t know when we will be attacked. Jon was there to save us, but now he might not ever be allowed to use a sword again. I need to be ready. I need to protect Jon like how he protected me.”

The emotion in her voice was easy to hear, and it was matched by what Sansa could see on her face. Sansa took two short strides forward and opened her arms wide. 

Arya dropped her weapon and flung herself at her. Sansa tightly squeezed her sister before starting to rub small circles on her back, just like their mother would.

“I understand what you are feeling Arya. But I don’t think stealing a wooden sword and swinging it behind the stables is the way to go.” 

Sansa let out a sigh. Not fully believing what she was about to suggest. Then again, everything was different since that attack. Arya needed help to overcome her fear. If learning how to use a sword would do that for her, well I could not be all bad Sansa thought. Even if it was unladylike.

“Maybe you should talk to Lady Josey tomorrow about learning how to fight, like how the Moments do. Tell her what you told me. If you talk to her, she might help you convince our mother to allow you to fight like some of the other northern ladies do. If you promise to do that, I will not go tell mother what I found you doing here today.”

“Yes! Yes I promise Sansa. I will talk to Josey tomorrow. Then I can learn.” 

“Now go put that sword back and get ready for dinner, it should be ready soon”

Her sister gave her one last squeeze before twirling around and gathering up her sword. Sansa watched as Arya ran off around the corner of the stables.

“I guess I will just have to go to the library after supper.”

—---------------------------------------

The candles and fireplace were still going strong and they bathed the room with sufficient light. The book that Sansa wanted to share with Jon had been closed. Normally she would read until the candles burned low and her eyes grew heavy. Jon would gently take the book out of her hand and lead Sansa over to her bed. But not tonight.

Jon had become detracted shortly after she began. Sansa noticed that he tried to stay invested, or at least act like he was. But eventually his inner turmoil became too much and he just gazed into the hearth before them, unmoving.

Sansa was not upset by this. She had vowed to support her cousin in any way that she could. His life had changed drastically overnight. She would be there for him and help him any way that she could. She just wished that she could actually help him in some way.

Sansa contemplated this as she fiddled with the edges of the book in her lap. Her mother always asked her to share her thoughts after a nightmare or when she was upset. Mother had always said that it would help her if she shared what was bothering her. She knew that their mother had tried to do the same thing with Jon, but he had yet to do so. Maybe he will be willing to tell me?

Turning away from her hands, she looked over to her cousin. “Jon, do you want to talk about what plagues you? I know it can help to talk about such things. But only if you want to.”

She quickly added the last part. She did not want him to feel like she was forcing him to do something, or that she was upset by him zoning out.

His eyes lingered on the fire. Slowing he turned to face her. This brought her face to face, or eye to eye, with another difference in Jon’s life. His eyes still had the Stark gray to them, but they were now encompassed by a ring of red. It had a strange mysticism to it, though Sansa would not say that it looked bad. It reminded her of the weirwood tree sap, but brighter. 

Jon let out a stuttering sigh and turned back to the flames. 

“I have been having these… dreams. The voice that I heard in front of the weirwood tree told me that I would but… now I am having them…” 

Sansa stayed silent as he rambled. Again she did not know what to do, so she decided to just listen. 

“In these dreams that voice talks to me. He said that his name is Brynden. He has told me that he will help me understand things that the old gods have done to me. He has started to help me… sense things that are outside of my eyesight. I feel like I am starting to get some of my life back. That maybe I will be able to swing a sword again or go riding on horseback. But he also talks about things to come, about a great darkness. How it will roll over the lands and leave nothing but ice in its wake. He says that we will have to fight to repel this evil and that my gifts will help humanity in that fight. Brynden says that we will need to be ready. It is just so much, and it sounds so... I don’t know…”

Jon’s unsteady voice sent a shiver down her back. The Starks understood the power of dreams. It frighted Sansa to hear her brave hero sound so scared and vulnerable. 

If there was a fight against a dark evil, Sansa knew that she would not be on the front lines. She was not a fighter. She was not brave enough to do that. Jon and her uncle were. Arya currently thought that she was. But not Sansa. 

But if she could not be brave on the battlefield, she was determined to be brave for Jon in his moment of need. 

Placing the book on the table next to her, she slipped her right hand into Jon’s. She gave him a squeeze before bringing it into her lap and laying her other hand on top. 

“The gods restored your eyesight, at least in part. They have promised to help you and are now giving you a warning of what is to come. This is because you are worthy of their help and are a good person. You protected Arya, Josey, Jory and myself from bandits. You acted on instinct. You did something that the heroes from the songs would do. Like those from the past that we read about. But you actually did those things.” 

She leaned into him while softly rubbing circles on the back of his hand. She listened to the fire cracking for a moment before continuing. 

“I believe in you Jon. You are not alone in this world. Your birth parents loved you. Our mother loves you. Arya and myself love you. I am here for you for whatever you need. Whenever you want to talk, I will listen. You have been so good to Arya and I, so let me help you.” 

The fire once more filled the room with its popping. She glanced up and saw tears pooling in his eyes. Jon rapidly blinked them away before leaning down and placing a kiss on her forehead.

Sansa did not really know that to think about all that Jon had just told her. She did not even address the part where he was being shown how to ‘sense’ things outside of his vision. Though that was not what was causing his issues, so for the moment, she skipped over that. Sansa just hoped that her words helped. She settled herself once again against his side and let the fire loll her into a feeling of peacefulness. They did not talk any more after that. Both content to enjoy the silence and the presence of the other.

Chapter Text

Ch 10. Jon II

January 295

Warmth was the first thing that greeted Jon when he came out of his slumber. The furs were thankfully still up around his neck. On instinct he rolled over to face where the window was in his room. His full conciseness came roaring back as he was reminded once again of his shortcomings. 

He could sense the slight difference between the window and the wall, but it was outside of his range of vision. Over the last few months Jon had determined his limitations that he now lived with. He could clearly see twelve feet before him and fairly well for the next three feet. From fifteen to eighteen things started to get fairly blurry for him. And after that his ability to see fell off a cliff. Those first few days he found himself walking much slower than normal. His fear of going too fast and not observing what was in front of him was constantly on his mind. He despised that both his mother and Sansa felt the need to hover close to him during those first days. He knew they did it out of love, but he hated himself for being so weak. But over time, with the help of the lesions he learned in his dreamscape, he was able to overcome the need to be watched over while he traversed Winterfell.

Luckily he now had an ability to sense things outside of his eyesight, though he had difficulties differentiating what some things were. He could not really tell much of a difference between a stone wall or a wooden one, unless someone stuck it, then Jon could hear the difference. Other things were difficult as well, like when a tapestry hung on a wall it was difficult to “see" that an object was covering the wall. Of course if they were within his field of view he would be fine, but that was greatly reduced.

Sighing he turned to the hearth that still had a few embers glowing. After taking a moment he rubbed the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes and rose to start the day. He quickly got dressed and ready, but before he left his room he went to check his reflection. When he looked at himself Jon tried to focus on his hair to make sure it looked presentable, but eventually, like he always did, he felt his gaze drawn to his own eyes. Jon focused on the red ring that surrounded the gray of his eyes. He had grown used to the colored ring, but not what it signified. 

Limited sight, headaches from reading or focusing on small details on a page, and even some eye pain when the sunlight was reflected directly into them. And the dreams. The visions that helped and those that disturbed. The promises of what would befall the north and everyone who called it home.

But he pushed past that and focused on the gray, as his mother had told him. The week prior he had broken down and Catelyn had been there to pick up the pieces for him. He did not want to be weak, but he could not help it. Everything was just so confusing and difficult to understand now. This happened the night before Arya’s sixth name day. The castle was filled with a few extra lords of the north that had come to help Arya celebrate becoming another year older. Of course a few of them were subtly jockeying for her future hand in marriage, which he detested. Jon was ashamed to admit he often tried to disappear into the shadows when the Lords visited. He did not want to see how they would react to the partially blind bastard of Winterfell. But the festivities and gallantry he witnessed just reminded him of what he always wanted, beyond just helping his family. He wanted to be a Stark. But he was not a Stark. He was either a Targaryen or a Targaryen bastard.

In a desperate attempt to get away from everyone and the extra noise that was present inside their halls, he fled the warm walls of Winterfell and disappeared down into the crypts. He had just sat and gazed up into her stone eyes. Jon finally knew who his birth mother was. Before the attack he would have given up almost anything to just know her name. But now he knows so much more than that. The truth about who he really was.

Jon got lost in his mind as he thought about her. What did she truly look like? What did she sound like? What were her favorite hobbies and activities? Would she be proud of him?

He let the outside world flow past him. Not caring how long he was down here with the woman who had given birth to him, who gave her life for him. But he must have been down there for too long, because his Mother, Lady Catelyn, had come looking for him. When she came upon him, no words were exchanged. She just lowered herself down next to him. Both of them just peering up at the woman immortalized before them.

Eventually he broke down and told her how he could never be a Stark and how lost he felt. His mother just held him and listened while he got everything out. She did not care that his tears and snot ended up on her gown. She just lovingly held and consoled him. Once Jon had said his peace, she spoke. Catelyn told him of her own mother. How she grew up in the great castle of Harrenhal. How she loved to play in the gardens with her siblings. She shared with him how her mother told her how nervous she felt on the night of her wedding. How Minisa Whent became Minisa Tully. How she had red hair, gentle hands and a loving smile. It was the actions of her mother that showed Catelyn how to be one herself, even if she passed long before Catelyn ever got married. It was Minisa’s example that helped her to be the lady of Riverrun after her mother died in childbirth.

She shifted to talk about her father. How he truly taught her the house words of the Tully’s. Family, Duty, Honor. It was those words that she tried to live her life by. Her father Hoster let her run their castle as if she was the lady. And that helped her be ready for when she moved into Winterfell and became the Lady to Ned Stark. How she took the last name Stark as her own name and with that, new house words. Winter is Coming. She said that Ned had talked to her about the warning behind those words and that she has now experienced them. 

“And now my son, I am ruling the North until Sansa can take that burden upon her own shoulders. I am doing my best until that day comes, and thanks to my experiences I have been able to keep this castle and the north running. Those experiences have shaped the way that I go about things and have made me the person that I am today. But I ask you, what house do I belong to?”

The question jolted him and forced him to shift his mind into thinking and not just listening. Jon had been so captivated by the story of her past that she had been weaving for him. He was overjoyed with her sharing such important things with him. He quickly thought about everything that he had just been told. Hesitantly he gave her his answer.

“I would say that you belong to all three houses. Your mother, your father and your husband each showed you things and had an impact on you. Some of this you had from birth, but much of it came later.”

She smiled sweetly at him. She brushed her hand through his hair and nodded a yes.

“You are a very bright boy Jon. Yes I agree with you. I know I truly belong to all three houses, even if I now only carry the name of one of them. And if I am struggling with something I often try to draw upon the things that I have learned or been taught. I look to my mother, my father or Ned. The same goes for when I am missing one of them. I know that they are a part of me and they always will be.”

She tilted herself down and kissed the crown of his head. He knew he would always relish the motherly affections that she gave him.

“So you see Jon, you are a Stark. You are a Targaryen and I would say you are even a little bit of a Tully. If you ever feel like you are not a Stark, just stop and focus on all of the things that make you one. It can be the physical traits or the teachings you have received. But even beyond that, you are your own person. You can not be defined just by what house you were born from. Don’t let your fears dictate how you see yourself.”

Jon shook his head to break up the memory. He scanned the room one last time before he headed out. He went around his bed, letting his fingers trail across the large chest at its base. He paused before the door, took a deep breath, and went out to face the new day.

—------------------------------------------

He was sitting in the godswood, before the weirwood tree. The palace where his life was changed once again. First in Robb’s room, in the hall outside his father’s door, his room twice over and then here at this sacred place. This was also the place where he made a vow before his gods that he would do everything within his power to help his family.

Earlier, when he was breaking his fast with his family, Jon silently ate his meal. He was watching the ones he loved and his thoughts drifted to what they have done for each other and for him. How their love shaped him and the ways they have aided him. A determination seemed to fill him, like water being poured into a glass to the point that it overflowed. He loved his family and they loved him, that had not changed. The words that Catelyn and Sansa had shared with him over the recent days and weeks reinforce that feeling of family and the desire to help. That morning, while the others were eating around him, he had decided to renew his promise. So he had done just that before this weirwood tree. Now was the hard part of planning how to go about it.

The voice in his dreams, “Brynden”, had told Jon that he would be able to still fight and could be even better than he ever would have been. Brynden said that once he truly mastered his sense he would be truly lethal. So Jon had to figure out a way to push himself, to be greater.

Jon felt comfortable with being able to “see” what was around him within the walls of Winterfell. During Arya’s name day feast, Jon had pushed himself while he was sitting next to her at the high table. Jon found that with enough concentration he could sense everything in the great hall. While he was not able to sense exactly what everyone was doing, he felt like he understood the broad strokes of what was going on. So now he had to continue to push himself. Determined to turn his disadvantage into an advantage. 

So how would he go about proving to his mother and the blackfish that he was still capable of fighting? He looked directly into the red eyes of the tree before him as he turned this problem over in his mind.

Well I might be able to convince them to allow me to pick up a sword again, because most of that would be within my eyesight. So what I really need to do is convince them that I could still become a warrior on a battlefield. That I could still ride a horse and know when danger is approaching… like when arrows are being fired at me.

A smile broke out upon his face. So if I get good at dodging or blocking on coming arrows, that might be enough for them. A fast, dangerous object would have to persuade them to let him train and protect his family once again. That solves one aspect of his promise. The other was his studies.

Once it came out that he got headaches from reading, Maester Luwin halted all of Jon’s lessons. Overcoming that one seemed easier to Jon, but might cause him more pain than getting arrows shot at him, assuming he could block them. Luwin loved knowledge and loved helping Jon and his cousins expand theirs. He firmly believed that Luwin would allow him to pick up his studies once again, but at a slower pace. Though Jon would not allow himself to fall behind. He needed to have a sharp mind to help Sansa when it came time for her to take over the north. 

To prevent himself from lagging behind, he would just have to make it up by searching out all that the library had to offer. Even if that meant staying up late and getting headaches. He would also have to hide whatever current book that he was reading. Jon feared that if people kept finding different books in his room they would begin to question what he was up to. Jon did not have a lot of options for hiding things. Maybe there was still room at the bottom of his chest… It would have to do for now.

With an idea in place he gave a quick prayer to the old gods before setting out to execute said plan. 

—------------------------------------------

Thunk

Jon could clearly hear the telltale sound of someone practicing archery. Briefly Jon thought that he should not have been able to hear it so clearly from where he currently was, but quickly moved past that thought. The yard was void of anyone else practicing and he had more important things to focus on.

Theon nocked another arrow, took aim and released it.

Thunk

The iron born was a good archer, granted Jon would never say that to his face because of the ego that Theon already had, but he could admit as much to himself. Out of everyone inside the walls of Winterfell that could and would help Jon with his plan, he thought Theon might be the most open to it. Or so he hoped anyway.

Theon was now within his vision, but Jon was still trying to work out how to open the conversation. He needed to find a way to convince the Ironborn to shoot-

“Snow, what are you doing with two shields?”

Looking up, Jon realized that the boy was already looking at him. For a moment he was stuck staring dumbly at the Greyjoy with a shield in each hand. He had planned to start with the larger of the two, before switching to the other to make the task more difficult.

“Well I am carrying them with me because I am trying to prove something.”

“And you need those two shields to do so?” came the snarky replay. Jon just nodded.

“Well go away, I am in the middle of practicing.”

“Well about that… I need you to shoot at me with arrows.”

For a moment Theon did nothing but look back at Jon with a slightly startled expression. “Are you crazy? Lady Stark will kill me if I start shooting arrows at you. No way Snow, now go away.”

Jon just huffed and closed the distance between the two of them.

“Look Greyjoy, I need to prove to Lady Catelyn and the Blackfish that I can still be a soldier. I need you to fire that arrow at me and I will block it with my shield. I will know when you fire it and where it is going and I will stop it from hitting me. After I prove to them that I can still fight, they will allow me to start training again.”

“What do you mean you will know when I am firing the arrow? You can’t see more than twenty feet in front of you. You should know better than to think that your enemy will only be shooting at you when they are within twenty feet or are you stupid?”

A growl sprung forth from his throat. Jon dropped the larger of the shields and pointed down range at the target that Theon had been using.

“Your last shot was just off center, down and to the left. The one before that was to the right and another arrow is stuck just above that one.”

Irritation shifted to disbelief. “How the hell did you know that? I thought you could not see that far. Did your eyesight improve overnight?”

“No it did not. Look I don’t really know how to explain it, but the old gods gave me the ability to sense what is around me. I can sense when you shoot the arrows and I will do so when you direct them at me.”

“You really want me to do that?”

“Yes”

“What if you are not fast enough, I am not taking that risk.”

Shaking his head Jon willed himself not to let his frustration take control. He needed Theon (as much as he hated to think that). Quickly he scanned what was around him while trying to adjust his plan.

“Look over at the edge of the Guards Hall. What if I hide around the corner with the large shield while you line up next to the wall closest to us. Then you shoot down in the same direction that the wall is going. Then when I sense the arrow getting close to the corner, I stick out the shield and try to catch the arrow at the center point of the shield. That way I prove to you that I know when the arrow is coming and this way you won’t be releasing it directly at me.”

“But how will you know when the arrow is coming, you will be around the corner of the wall?”

“Try to keep up Greyjoy. Please just go stand thirty paces away from the corner and fire an arrow past it once I get on the other side.”

Not giving the other any time to retort, Jon picked up the large shield and stocked off to the far side of the Guards Hall. Jon could hear the mumbled curses that were thrown his way, but Theon did as he was told. Theon Greyjoy got into place and waited while Jon marched towards his destination. 

Jon had just rounded the corner when he sensed it. He half spun back around and slipped his hand fully into the straps of the shield. Jon quickly flung out his right arm. In a half lung he pushed the large shield back around the side of the wall. The force of the impact swung his arm back some, but Jon did not drop the wooden shield. The arrow was embedded in it, at the direct center.

Jon jumped around the corner and could not keep the shit-eating grin off of his face. Theon, in his shock, had dropped his bow and was now staring dumbly at Jon. Now who is the one that looks stupid?

“Next time when I tell you to do something Greyjoy, it will be easier if you just do it.”

The Ironborn did not reply. He just kept switching his gaze between Jon and the arrow that he had fired.

“Why don’t you go pick up and shoot another arrow at me. If it makes you feel better you can aim to miss. Unless that is you don’t think you are accurate enough to purposefully miss. If that is the case I am sure that I can find a better archer around here somewhere.”

That seemed to get the wheels in Theon’s head turning again. Picking up his bow in a huff, he marched over to where he had placed his other arrows in the ground. 

Theon picked one up and placed it on the bowstring. This time Theon took his time, whether it was him trying to pick his spot or because he did not want to repeat what he just did, Jon did not know. But he did know when Theon released the arrow.

The arrow was going above his head. Jon raised the shield, but realized it would be out of his reach. Pushing off he leapt into the air.

Thunk

Jon touched back down and used the shield to steady himself. But he had to do so quickly because there was now another arrow being released. Faintly Jon registered that someone let out a yell, but he had other things to focus on. Lifting his arm back up and to the right he easily stopped the arrow from going past him. Once again the arrow was sitting at the center of the wooden shield.

Again Jon smirked at the Greyjoy.

“WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS ARE YOU TWO DOING?!”

As quickly as the smirk appeared, it disappeared. Jon felt as tension flared up from the base of his spine all the way to his skull. He felt his neck creak as he lifted his head towards the ramparts, where Jon now knew the Blackfish stood in a fit of rage.

—------------------------------------------

The walk to the solar felt like something from a nightmare to Jon. The hallways and stairwells seem to stretch on for longer than they should have. Then all of a sudden they were before the large wooden door that would lead them to his Mother.

His own thoughts kept Jon from really listening fully to what the Blackfish was saying. But he kept his eyes on the Lady of the castle as she was informed about what Theon and him had been doing in the yard. Jon saw how she fluctuated from concern, surprise and anger.

Jon had not wanted it to go down like this. He wanted to work with Theon some more before easing his Mother and the Blackfish into the idea that he can still fight. Maybe show Ser Rodrik or Jory first before going to the two people that would decide his fate. But now that plan had been thrown out the window.

“I can not believe this! What in the seven hells were you thinking Theon?!? You could have killed Jon!”

Jon found himself taking an involuntary step back as Catelyn Stark unleashed her fire upon Theon. He spared a glance at the other boy and only saw fear as he seemed to curl in on himself. For a brief moment Jon was relieved to not be at the center of her tirade. But when his Mother continued to attack Theon, Jon’s mind caught back up to him. He could not let the Ironborn take the fall for him, it was not right.

Jon had to shout to be heard “It was my idea! I wanted Theon to shoot arrows at me!”

His Mother had closed the distance between herself and Theon Greyjoy, but froze at his outburst. All of the eyes in the room were now fixed on him. Jon felt himself take a gulp and tried to will his mind to find the words to explain what had happened and what he wanted to prove to them.

“I knew that I would be able to stop the arrows because I could sense when he released the arrows and track them as they flew towards me. Mother, you know that I have been improving when it comes to sensing what is around me. I have improved to the point that allows me to easily know when arrows are coming my way. I knew that they would not harm me, Theon even took measures to make sure I would not be hit.”

He needed his Mother to understand that he was capable. She had to know how serious this was to him and that he was ok. He stepped up to her and took her hand in his both of his. He gazed up into her eyes, imploring her to understand.

“I am fine, I knew I would be fine when I stepped out there today. I had planned to show you and Ser Brynden both what I am able to do. I was just practicing with Theon so please don’t punish him for my idea.”

“But Jon you could have been hurt. What if you could not sense the arrow fast enough or react in time? You could have been killed! I can not stand the thought of losing you. What were you thinking taking such a big risk?”

“I was thinking that this was the best way to show you that I can still fight! I will not just sit around and let others do it for me. I promised to protect my family. I can still do that. I can do it even better now than I could before. Please just let me train again!”

Jon was fighting back the tears that were welling up. She had to understand. This was something that he had to do. Jon watched as Catelyn seemed to contemplate what to do.

“Ask your Uncle Brynden. He saw me catch both arrows with my shield. He can vouch for my skill.”

His Mother turned her head to look at the man in question.

“The boy is speaking the truth Cat. He stopped both arrows with his shield, plus he already had a third arrow sticking out of it. I hate to say this, but it was impressive to watch, even if I was in a full panic while doing so.”

Catelyn brought her eyes down to peer into his own. She brought her other hand up to cup his face. A sigh left her as she shook her head.

“You are determined to prove yourself worthy of the practice yard aren't you?” He quickly nodded his head.

“And you are absolutely sure that your sense is strong enough to know when objects are headed your way?” 

“Yes Mother I am sure.”

“Gods help me. You do know that you don’t have to do this right? There are other ways you can help, you are not useless Jon.”

“This is something that I must do. I just know it. I promise to be safe if you let me pick up my training again.”  

“Uncle Brynden, did what you see today convince you that Jon is able to start training again?”

“I would like to test him some more, but it was impressive what he was able to do.”

“Fine. Fine! You can practice once again.” Jon could not help but let out a whoop. He tightly hugged his Mother around the waist and rapidly started to thank her.

“Now wait just a minute young man. What you did today was still incredibly stupid. You should have picked a different way to prove to us that your sense was so capable. Something that would not have killed you if something went wrong. Maybe you should have worn armor or had us throw small, non lethal objects at you. Theon you are banned from any form of training for the next two days because of the part that you played in this. Jon, you will not be allowed to start your training until next week due to your actions. Plus you will not get any sweets after dinner for the next two weeks. Now both of you leave this solar immediately before I make your punishments more severe.”

Chapter Text

Ch 11. Cat VI

December 295

Catelyn ghosted her fingers over the small gray wolf that was stitched on the white cloth. The stitching was very well done. Only if one were to look closely would you see the instances where a thread was slightly out of line. While still holding the fabric with her left hand, Cat ran her other over the top of Sansa’s head. 

“It is very lovely my dear. You are far better than I was at your age.” Her eldest daughter beamed at the praise and gave her thanks. 

Catelyn had meant it about Sansa’s skill with a needle. Maybe it was her motherly side making her believe that, but Catelyn liked to think that it wasn't . Her daughter was a natural. Sansa spent less time than Catelyn had in her youth, due to her lessons that would help her rule the north, and yet she was better. It was love and pride that made Cat shift her daughter’s head closer so she could press a kiss to her temple. 

Catelyn sat back and let the governess continue with today's teachings involving needlework. On a different day Catelyn might have joined Lady Josey in teaching Sansa, but today she wished to just spend time with one of her children and let her mind wander. Over the years she had found this best when the stress of running Winterfell and the north was threatening to overwhelm her. 

What had forced her to seek the comfort of those closest to her had actually been a few things. 

For one they had some summer snow falls that had been harsher than normal. The Maesters had not signaled that it was another winter, but it still strained many who called these lands home. This forced every lord in the north to dip into their food storages, which were already lower than the desired amount. 

This was a clear long term side effect of the sickness that swept through the north all those years ago. Men and women died, so their workforce was cut down which put them behind on their storage. Now years later when some of the older farmers were getting too old, the children that should have been there to replace them were… well now they were all feeling their loss. On top of this was the fact that other people just up and left during and after the devastating sickness. All and all this was a problem that would probably be an issue well into Sansa’s rule. And Catelyn had no clear path forward to fix this.

They could not easily just get more farmers. They needed their current people in their positions because they were already thin in so many other areas. And it would be difficult to get people from the other kingdoms to make the move. People viewed them as savages, or were too far away to move, or thought it would be too cold and now after the great sickness, people feared it might happen again. At least that is what her Father was hearing. So if food was not being grown that meant they could have to purchase even more than they already do. 

This brought her to the next point. A few days ago she had received a letter from the capital. It came from the recently named Master of Coin, her childhood friend Petyr. 

He reached out to offer her support however she needed it. It had been a kind and elegant letter from her old friend. 

“A few moons ago I was appointed The Master of Coin. Since I am in charge of the finances I can lend my support to whoever is in need of it. And I can think of no one else that deserves the support of the crown than you Cat. You were a great friend to me and helped shape me to be the man that I am today and on top of that you are ruling the north with only the support of your uncle.”  

Petyr had further stressed that he can do more than just lend her money. He can provide manpower or just advice. Basically he would help her anyway that she deemed fit. 

His words and offers were tempting. The opportunity to have more money and manpower, both of which the north desperately needed, sounded almost too good to pass up. She mulled it over in her head. While there were definitely benefits, there were also some risks with taking her childhood friend up on any of his offers. 

Cat came to the conclusion that for now, she would not accept. She would thank him and say that she would keep him in mind if they ran into any trouble in the future. Petyr would be a good option if things got worse and it would be nice for Sansa to have someone to turn to if she faced trouble during her reign. Also on a personal note, it would be nice to catch up with Petyr. So Catelyn decided she would keep in contact with him for her own benefit and that of the north, in case they did need help. 

What kept her from accepting the help for now was what others would think of the help. How would the other lords feel when they found out that she-

“Look mother. Do you like the border I made?” 

Gently Catelyn took the handkerchief from her daughter. Running her eyes over the newly made border. Just like I expected, impeccable, especially for her age.  

Cat shared these thoughts and once again was rewarded with Sansa’s lovely smile. 

“Lady Josey, is that all for Sansa today?”

“Yes my Lady, that is all. Sansa I want you to think about what you want to add to this piece that you have made. I want you to add something else alongside the wolf. Tomorrow you will work on that after your lessons with the Maester.”

“I will Lady Josey, I promise.” 

With her eldest daughter being released for the day Catelyn decided to walk the walls with her before dinner. As they traversed the halls her daughter stayed silent with a look of concentration on her face. A wry smile forced its way on Catelyn’s face. She could remember the days that her only worries were her attempts to make the perfect handkerchief. Catelyn supposed she never lost that eye for details, it just changed over time from stitching to running a castle. 

As the pair stepped out the wind quickly blew their hair back. There was a steady breeze this evening, but to the Lady of Winterfell it was most welcome. Having been stuck inside all day it made for a nice change. Once they got around to the main entrance her daughter spoke up. 

“What about a flower, or a rose Mother? Maybe the blue winter rose?” 

“That sounds lovely. Is there any reason why you have chosen the winter rose?” Catelyn replied.

Sansa turned her eyes away from Cat and looked out over the grounds of Winterfell. They walked in step for a few more paces before Sansa responded. 

“That flower is of the north, just like the direwolf.” Her daughter briefly returned her gaze before she let it drift once more. “And that flower holds importance to several people that do or have called Winterfell home.” 

“You are very thoughtful Sansa, that will serve you well.” 

Cat directed them over to the edge of the wall that overlooked the main training yard. Directly beneath them was her other daughter. Her wild child was currently striking a straw dummy while receiving instruction from Ser Rodrik. 

Catelyn had relented and allowed Arya to learn how to fight like some of the other ladies of the north. But Catelyn had made it clear that Arya must behave and attend all of her other lessons. If her daughter did both of those things, then she could practice twice a week. While Arya was still prone to acting out, it happened less now then it did before.

She could remember the first time that Arya had stepped onto the yard to practice. Her Uncle had asked which weapons she wanted to try first. Arya had turned her head to look over at Jon. Her cousin was already warming up for his own training. “I want to practice with a sword and then bow.”

Her eldest daughter looked down at her sister, gave a small sigh and turned to look elsewhere in the training yard. 

Catelyn could understand where Sansa was coming from. She too wished Arya was more ladylike. Cat held out hope that with time she still would. But whenever she watched Arya practice, she could not help but see the unbridled joy. And that brought Catelyn some happiness. A small part of her fears that this desire to train is a causation to the attempt on her daughter’s life. To keep her thoughts from spiraling out of control, Catelyn quickly shifted her focus elsewhere.

Lifting her head she surveyed the rest of the yard. While the guards mainly trained in the morning, a handful of them were still going over a few drills. Past the guards was Jon who was being taught by her Uncle Brynden. Jon seemed to be slowly mirroring the knight in whatever drill the pair was going over. Her son would raise his sword and move his feet to perfectly match Brynden. To Catelyn it almost looked like they were practicing a slow dance. Momentarily her Uncle stopped his drill, stepped over to Jon and shifted his elbow and arm. Then once more the pair continued their pseudo dance.

Cat was glad that she ended up letting Jon pick up his training again. It was a great succor for him. When her child was feeling overwhelmed he would either seek out a family member, sit beneath the weirwood, or pick up a sword and start hacking a straw dummy. Or he would just brood.

But training had been good for Jon. He had found that same drive that he had before his injury. The dark cloud that seemed to follow him, lessened some. While he was still processing everything that had happened to him, he seemed lighter now. The weight of his parentage and his weakened sight clearly did not weigh him down as much. Some days he would be gloomier than normal, and Cat would always reach out and be there for him on those days, but it happened less and less. Though for herself, the swirling anger and fear at what caused all of this was still lingering just under the surface.

It had been over a year since her children were attacked. They were nearly killed! Yet no new info had been found. No whispers about disgruntled lords, that went for both above and below the Neck. But no other lords reported an increase in bandits either. Luwin brought up the points that it could have just been a well armed group of thieves or maybe even someone from across the sea looking to make coin from a ransom, but he even admitted that the last one was unlikely.  But Catelyn did not think that it was either of those options that the Maester had supplied. She knew, down to her very soul, that someone had purposefully attacked the Stark children. They were obviously well armed and they attacked the group while they were out on their weekly picnic. Maybe she was too paranoid, but those two things spoke volumes to Catelyn that this was a deliberate attack on House Stark. 

Uncle Brynden agreed that the attack was likely staged by another Lord that was power hungry. He pointed out how the one attacker had grabbed Arya and just held on to her. It seemed that at least with her youngest they were planning on taking her with them. Catelyn could not help but shiver with where that line of thinking goes. Benjen thought similarly, but was a little more hesitant. But now the question was what action, or actions, still needed to be taken.

The last source of stress was the two Lords that were set to arrive tomorrow. She did not have all of the details, but it was another disagreement betweens the Forresters and the Whitehills. Undoubtedly there would be discourteous exchanges, accusations and a lot of shouting. Rubbing her temples did not ease the pressure for Cat.

Catelyn glanced at her companion atop the walls. Sansa was dutifully watching Jon as her Uncle started up a new lesson for the boy. Maybe I should have Sansa shadow me as the lords make their appeals tomorrow. And not just when they arrive, but when I meet with them in private. It would do her good to see what will be expected of her and how best to navigate a sensitive situation between two lords.

“Come along Sansa, let us head back inside. Dinner will be served soon so let us get ready.”

—------------------------------------------

Rubbing at her left eye, Catelyn did not fight back the yawn this time around. The pile of finished letters and messages was now stacked up much higher than those that were unattended. The candle light was also resting much lower on the table then it had been when Cat lit it after dinner. She found that after her walk with Sansa and dinner with the rest of her family, her mind was in a much better place. So after her children had bid her a good night, she went back into her solar and got to work.

Catelyn could admit that if she had found Ned working this late, she would have chided him for not taking care of herself. But these items upon the desk would not take care of themselves. And she might even admit that she herself had a tendency to put work above her own needs, especially when it benefited her family. Catelyn would just never share those thoughts with her Uncle or Benjen. But maybe it had reached the point that for now, she could give it a break.

She quickly reordered the piles of paper into tighter and neater stacks. Cat pushed her chair back, blew out the light and exited the room.

Tonight she felt compelled to check in on each of her children. Catelyn found herself doing this from time to time. Was it overboard to check on one's kids when you already have guards stationed at the entrance to the hall? Maybe, but Catelyn found that it comforted her after a particularly hard day. One of the guards, Ronnel, must have heard her because he turned to face her. He was relatively new to the rotation, not even twenty name days. But her Uncle deemed that he was proficient enough with a sword and had a good head on his shoulders, so he was put in the rotation. 

He gave a smile before turning around to stand sentry once again. Catelyn quickly ducked into Sansa’s room as quietly as possible. She checked that the fire was still going and made sure that her daughter was comfortable. Once satisfied Catelyn exited. She did pause in the doorway to look back at Sansa. She looked so peaceful and at ease. Warmth flooded her heart and Cat could not stop the smile even if she wanted to.

She repeated the process with Arya and felt lighter after doing so. Catelyn made a vow that once these lords left she would spend a whole day with her girls. As she came to Jon’s door she felt herself drifting ever closer to dreamland, but she pushed past it and into the room. And the glow that greeted her did not originate from the fireplace, but from a cluster of candles.

The bed looked untouched. The chest at the base of it, was flipped open and had his coat hanging off the side. Jon was in his nighttime attire. He seated at his desk with the side of his face pressed into a book which was open on said desk. Catelyn could hear his soft snores from the door.

Was he reading? She had left strict instructions with Maester Luwin to make sure that Jon would not get headaches due to reading. For a moment she felt anger towards the Maester that he would allow Jon to read on his own. Did he not care for the boy’s health? But as Catelyn closed the distance between them to stand at Jon’s side, she realized that line of thinking was silly. Of course Luwin cared about Jon’s health and he would not go against her word. So that meant…

“Jon, how long have you been secretly staying up at night reading books?”

His head shot up and half spins to meet her voice. Rapidly he blinks his eyes in an attempt to quickly accommodate himself with his surroundings. She is within his eyesight and after another moment he turns his face upward to meet her. For a moment he brings his hand up, in what she assumes would be an attempt to rub his eyes, but he slowly drops it back down to the desk.

“What-” Jon clears his throat and takes a few more blinks. “What did you say mother?”

“I said, how long have you been secretly staying up at night reading books?”

There was a slight bite to her tone, but there was concern laced along with it. Catelyn, while she did not know how long this had been going on, felt confident in why it was happening. But she patiently waited for him to answer.

Jon half looked back down at the book and seemed to try and cover it with his arms. But he did meet her gaze when he answered.

“Well, I guess it was around the same time that I started training again.” 

Catelyn let a sigh escape her as she brought her hand up to the bridge of her nose. With a slight shake of the head she scolded herself. Of course he would keep to his promise. It was more than just becoming the best swordsmen. He wanted to be able to help Sansa govern. How was I so foolish not to think that something like this would happen.

“Please don’t be mad. I have to do this.”

“Jon I am not.. Well I am a little mad, I won’t lie to you. You don’t have to do this. I know that you think you do but..” Another sigh as Cat dropped her hand uselessly down to her side. Catelyn felt so… inadequate. She felt like a failure. Her child was harmed and was now altered for life and there was nothing that she could do about it. And now he felt the need to hurt himself in an attempt to become better and support those around him. She knew that was what he was trying to do. He feared losing others and not being able to help them. So he pushed himself. Naively she had thought that drive could only help him to become a better person. Catelyn had not considered the drawbacks to it.

Moving down to his level she brought him into her embrace. His head pushed under her chin as she held him close. Jon’s arms snaked around to return the hug. For a moment she just held him, just wanted him to feel the love that she had for him.

“Jon, listen to what I am about to tell you, please listen. Do not bring harm onto yourself in an endeavor to make yourself better. This is exactly why I got upset about that stunt you pulled with the arrows and shield. If you don’t know when to stop it will end up getting you or even those around you hurt.”

She hated herself for what she was about to say next, but she did not know how else to make him see reason.

“What if you continue just like you are now and keep staying up late reading beyond the point at which you get headaches. What if you fall sick from this course of action, whether it is from a migraine or just a lack of sleep. What if that illness turns into something else, what if we end up losing you. It could be just from an illness or an external force from outside our walls that do you in. All because of a lack of sleep or headaches. What if you don’t stop with just pushing yourself with reading? What if you train so much that you get injured physically and that costs you in other ways, like in a real fight. Where would that leave the rest of us, those that love you?”

She tried to soften the blows of her words by gently rubbing circles on his back. She continued to just hold Jon as he took in what she was saying. Catelyn felt when the tears started to fall. Her hands moved up and down with his jagged breathing. He seemed to slip out of the chair and into her lap as she guided them down to the floor.

“I have to try. I can’t allow anything- anything else to happen to you. To you, to-to Sansa or Arya. I have to try, I just- I just have to.”

“Jon, you know what I am about to say. We love you and appreciate the undertaking that you are doing for this family. I am not telling you to stop. I am just telling you to not put yourself in harm's way or hurt yourself on your journey to self betterment. Just slow down. I promise that we can all help each other. Wolves work together as a pack. One wolf does not do all the hunting, it is a group effort. You are not alone.

“There are so many more ways to help than by just becoming proficient with a sword or memorizing every book in the library. I have found the best way to help and support someone is by just being there for them. You are already so, so good at doing exactly that. Don’t lose sight of what you already do for those that you love.”

He ruffled the top of her dress as he nodded in understanding.

Slowly his tears seemed to dry up and his breathing returned to normal. She kissed the crown of his head before pushing back from him a bit. She looked into his eyes and just held his gaze.

“Do you promise not to cause yourself harm in your pursuit?”

“Yes Mother, I promise”

Catelyn knew that he would keep that promise. Jon never lied to her and his word was his bond. She gave him a loving smile before bringing them back to their feet. An idea struck her when she looked down at her son.

“Now off to bed. You will need your rest because tomorrow some Lords are coming to Winterfell and I think you should be there to greet them along with Sansa and myself. I want you both by my side as I deal with them and their issues.” 

Jon quickly hugged her once more before spinning around towards his bed. He was under the covers before she was even halfway to the exit. 

“Goodnight my son, sleep well.”

“Goodnight Mother.”

Chapter Text

Ch 12. Cat VII

September 297

“What about a new sword or a new bow? Oh or I could give him a helmet or some other piece of armor!” 

“Why would Jon need armor of any kind? He is not going off to fight and on top of that he will just outgrow it.”

“Well I think it would be amazing, so just shut up-”

Catelyn cleared her throat and gave a very pointed look towards Arya. Sheepishly she turned down to look at her hands in her lap. Her youngest mumbled an apology to her sister before scooping another spoonful of soup. Catelyn decided to step in with the hope of getting the conversation back on track.

“Just remember Arya, whatever gift you want to get Jon for his name day needs to be ready in five days.”

“Why did you wait until the week of his name day to decide what gift to get him? You have almost no time now.” Sansa kept her tone light, but Catelyn suspected that she secretly enjoyed watching her sister flounder to come up with an idea for a last second gift.

“I didn't mean to. It just sort of snuck up on me.”

“How did his name day do that? It is on the same day every year.” This time her oldest could not contain her amusement. Not wanting anymore harsh words to be exchanged over their lunch, Cat again had to speak up. But not before shooting Sansa a similar look.

“It does not matter any more, I am sure that Arya will learn from this and will be prepared next time there is a name day. If you want Arya, tomorrow we can go for a walk through Winter town to see what the shopkeepers are selling. If you don’t find anything there we can visit Mikken to see what he could make on such short notice.”

Arya happily agreed. Catelyn was honestly relieved that Jon was not available to have lunch with them today. She had been meaning to ask Arya what her plans were for her cousin’s name day, and this meal had provided the perfect opportunity. Jon at the moment was out on a small hunt with a group of eight others, including her Uncle. In fact Brynden had put Jon in charge of the whole thing. He was tasked with leading the group, deciding where they would go, and was put in command of tracking any animals that they might find.

A small part of Catelyn was still fearful anytime that one of her children stepped outside the castle walls, but she knew it had to be done. She was confident that only Brynden knew about it. Or at least Catelyn hoped it was only her Uncle. Both Jon and Sansa seemed too perceptive for their own good sometimes. Uncle Brynden had promised to be vigilant and not let Jon out of his sights, which did soothe her fears for the most part. He would be back later this evening with whatever they found.

—------------------------------------------

The sun was already low in the sky and was partially blocked by one of the towers. Catelyn had to firmly clasp her hands together to keep them still. On her left stood each of her daughters and Winterfell’s steward Vayon Poole. Sansa had been with her when the lone rider had come galloping back into the yard. The two of them had been on their way to the guest house at the time. Cat wanted to double check that everything was in order for whoever might be showing up for Jon’s name day. Most of the Northern lords would not attend a bastard’s name day feast, but a few would. She knew those that did would mostly fall into three groups. Those that had business with herself already, those that were close to the children (which really was only Cley Cerwyn and Benfred Tallhard), or lords that were willing to “overlook'' Jon's birth status and were seeking a marriage with one of their daughters or granddaughters.

When the rider had first appeared Catelyn had feared the worst. She felt her heart stop. That fear was quickly dispelled when the man revealed his reason for an early return.

Howland Reed was coming to Winterfell.

Lord Reed and his traveling companions had happened upon by the hunting group that was led by Jon and Uncle Brynden. Her Uncle had quickly sent the rider back to Winterfell so Catelyn would be ready for the lord's arrival. She was not sure how her youngest daughter had found out that Lord Reed was coming to their home, but she had. And Cat had requested for Vayon to be present because she figured it best to keep her eye on the children with the arrival of a Lord that held such importance to Jon. Which meant that she would have Vayon escort and see to the needs of the travelers. So now the four of them waited, and it took nearly all of Catelyn’s restraint to not start fidgeting. 

To alleviate that need Catelyn decided to focus on the interaction that lay ahead. Cat could admit to herself that a part of her was furious at the lord from the Neck. After learning the truth about Jon’s birth, the lady of Winterfell had sent nearly a dozen ravens to the lord, or at least they were sent to their normal destination so they could reach the mysterious castle of the Reed’s. When the letters went unanswered she had even sent Ser Rodrik via horseback. She had instructed him to deliver a note by hand to Howland. With some help the knight was able to find Greywater Watch, but the Lord was not there.

Howland’s wife Jyana had informed Rodrik her husband was away on some personal matter and was not sure when he would return. The loyal knight had waited three days before leaving to return to Winterfell. But not before he had given the letter over to Jyana with her promise that she would hand it to her husband when he returned. That was a little over a year ago and Catelyn had still not received a reply from Howland Reed. But maybe that is why he was here now, even if it was years too late.

Catelyn knew that as the Lady of Winterfell she could not treat one of their most important bannermen with anything but respect. Even if his continued silence had caused so much pain for her son. The unending questions about his parents and the truth behind his birth had been left unable to be answered. And the one man that could provide insight had refused to do so. But Cat would get answers from him before he marched home. Catelyn would go about this with the utmost courtesy and respect. That is how she would wage this war. And if the Lord refused to give up any of his knowledge, then she would appeal to his honor and need to do right by Jon. If that failed, well, he would see the claws that she had gained here in these harsh lands. Claws she would gladly use to help her family.

“Riders approaching!” Shouted a guard from above them.

The Lady of Winterfell straightened her back and set her head forward in the direction of the gate. Quickly she took a glance down at Sansa, who had taken up the same posture. 

A group of about twenty rode into the courtyard. At the head of the group was her Uncle, Jon and another man in green. Her son Jon barely seemed to be paying attention to where he was going. Instead his attention was on the man on his left. This caused Jon’s horse to take a few extra steps after the rest of the party came to a stop. 

Catelyn took a few calming breaths to steel herself as the group dismounted and approached. Time to put on a show. I can’t give him any reason to withhold his secrets or raise suspicions of others nearby. 

“Greeting Lord Reed, and welcome to Winterfell. I am sure that your traveling has left you weary, which is why I have had rooms prepared for you and your men. Is there anything that you require?”

“Thank you Lady Stark, you are most kind. I don’t require anything right now, a room is more than enough.”

“We are planning to have dinner in just over an hour and you are more than free to join us in the Great Hall. But if you need anything between now and then, we will happily provide that for you.”

“I do admit, a decent meal does sound lovely. I will be looking forward to it.”

“I am available tomorrow if you wish to speak to myself or my family about any important matters that might have brought you into our home.”

Cat noticed how all three of the children seemed to lean in a little closer towards the lord, barely containing their anticipation. Howland kept his face blank except for the small smile that he kept throughout their conversation, he was giving nothing away. Until his eyes flitted towards where Jon stood at his side. Just as quickly they shifted back towards her. She would have missed the whole thing, except she was desperately trying to decipher the mystery that surrounded the man.

“Tomorrow night would be the best time for me to talk. It would also be the perfect opportunity for Jon to receive my gift in honor of his name day. Now if you will excusing me, I will take my belongings to my room.”

“Yes of course, Vayon here will show you and your men to your rooms. I must gather my family and see to the meal preparation.” 

Howland Reed gave his thanks once more before going back over to his horse. Cat kept an eye on him and watched as he lifted a few large bags off the back of his mount. Swiftly tucking them under his arms and setting out to follow the steward. Brynden noticed that Jon had not left his spot, just pivoting to watch their guest go about his business. Gently he steered the lad over to the rest of the family. Even then, she had to place a hand on his arm to break him out of his trance.

“Mother do you think, that Lord… Will he tell us about… Do you…”

Looking into his gray eyes, Cat could see the mixer of emotions that swirled in them. She brought him into a quick hug. She did not want to draw too much attention to themselves, so it was all that she provided for him at the moment. 

“Come along children, let us go inside. I am sure that the questions surrounding our guest will be revealed tomorrow. I will make sure of it.”

Reluctantly Jon fell into step behind her, Sansa attaching herself to his side.

—------------------------------------------

Catelyn had her left arm wrapped around Jon as he leaned into her. The couch paired with the fire provided some comfort as they waited for Howland Reed. Both Sansa and Arya had demanded to also be in the solar alongside Jon. Arya had stomped her feet and exclaimed since she and her sister had helped uncover the secret, they should be there when Jon gets the full truth.

Cat had nearly been swayed, but held firm in her thinking that this could get very emotional for her sweet Jon. That it might be best to limit the number of people in the room when he is forced to deal with whatever Howland has to say to them. The anticipation was already getting to him and coupled with long unanswered questions, it was almost too much. Desperately she wanted to take this pain away from her son, even if that was not possible.

“Jon, close your eyes, take some deep breaths and just listen to my voice.” She paused to let him do what she asked of him. Cat pulled him in a little closer before continuing.

“No matter what happens, you are still a part of this family. We still love you and we will need you by our side no matter what.” 

She placed a kiss on the crown of his head. It was easy for her to see how he craved affection. He soaked it up like a flower that had gone without water. Internally she cringed. It was her own fault that he starved physical touch and words of endearment from those closest to him. She was responsible for that gaping hole, but she swore to all the gods that she would not stop until that crater was filled.

“Whatever is revealed does not change the person that you truly are. Don’t let this change the type of man that you are becoming. A good, honorable-”

It was at that moment that her uncle knocked and pushed open the solar door. In stepped Lord Reed, with two leather bags clutched between both of his hands. Jon sat up like he had a steel sword for a spine, eyes glued to the Lord. Silently their guest crossed the room and sat down in the chair across from them. Cat heard the door shut, and waited. Howland stared at the small table that was set between them. It had three glasses of water on it, but he made no move towards his drink. He was mumbling to himself, but Cat could not decipher what he was saying. After a moment he looked up and addressed them.

“I am sorry for not answering your messages. Ned’s last raven that he sent was him instructing me to wait until Jon turned fourteen before revealing the truth about his birth. I could not betray his last wish, for that I am sorry.”

While that may have been an answer to Catelyn’s question, it did not make her hate his actions any less. Yes, she could see his reasoning, and maybe he deserved her forgiveness, but she did not think that he would get it any time soon. Too much pain and endless suffering were caused by that last wish. That and the honor to uphold it.

“I take it that you both know who Jon’s birth parents were?”

Mutely Jon nodded his head.

“How, if you don’t mind me asking? I just worry because to my knowledge the only people that knew the truth were myself and Ned.”

Her son just looked at her. Catelyn could see the overwhelming emotional typhoon swirling in his eyes. So she launched into a summary of how the truth came to be. The dreams, the tomb, the egg and note. Lord Reed stayed focused and only shifted his attention away from her to look at Jon every now and again.

“Incredible. It seems the old gods have-“

“Did my parents love each other?” 

Jon seemed to surprise himself with his outburst. Quickly he pressed back into the couch and looked down at his tangled fingers. Howland for his part did not look the least bit offended. Though Jon did not see it, the lord had a gentle smile on his face. 

“Yes they did Jon. They might not have known each other for a great deal of time, but I like to think that true love did form.” 

Jon lifted his head. His eyes shining in the light of the fire. It appeared to Cat that the nerves and fears were slowly melting away, being replaced by hope and longing. 

“I don’t know all of the details, but I know how they meet.” 

Howland Reed spun the tale of how two lovers came to be. How a young boy being picked on leads to lifelong friendships. That a young woman decided to teach the tormentors a lesson by becoming a mystery knight. Which caused a mad man to demand her death. Luckily the prince, who was the son of the mad man, found the heroine first. The prince learned of the unfortunate future that lay before the woman, how she was going to marry a man that would not respect her, how she had no say in the matter. 

Howland talked about how they spent time together with the backdrop of the tournament playing out around them. Saying the prince made the woman cry with his songs, how she gained his respect by her actions and honor. How they fell in love. Catelyn knew that it was a story that would make Sansa weep. This perfect fairytale. But it did not last. 

“I don’t know if they kept it a secret from everyone or if they sent out ravens that never made it. Either way the war broke out after the deaths of your grandfather Rickard and uncle Brandon. The Mad King had gone too far, yet he still demanded the heads of your Uncle Ned and Robert Baratheon. But I think you know what happened with the war.” 

Lord Reed took a moment to drink from his cup and gather his thoughts. Jon was hanging on his every word. At certain points in the story he had a death grip on her hand, not that she really minded. Howland sat back and stared into the flames. 

“After we broke the siege at Storm’s End, somehow Ned got word that Lyanna was in a tower in Dorne. I still don’t know how he gained that knowledge, but a small group of us headed out to ‘save’ Winterfell’s rose. Eventually we found the tower, but it was being guarded by three of the greatest knights the realm had to offer.” 

Howland turned back to look at the pair of them. Tears were gathering in his eyes. Fearing what was to come, Catelyn pulled her son a little closer. Her son, no matter what. 

“We should have done things differently. But we were tired and caught up in the lie of Lyanna’s kidnapping. They most likely were upset and desperate with the death of their Prince, the royal family and the King. We fought and death greeted both sides. In the end only Ned and myself were left.

“We raced up the tower with screams raining down from above. My injury caused me to take longer to reach the top. When I entered the room Lyanna was handing Ned the most important thing in her world over into his arms. You.”

Tears streamed down Jon’s cheeks, but he kept his gaze locked to the man before them. 

“She loved you Jon, I heard her say so. She made Ned promise to protect and take care of you. Of course he agreed. It seemed to be what she was holding on for, what she was fighting for. The promise that her baby would be alright.” 

Jon ducked himself into Catelyn’s stomach and wailed. A heartbreaking sound. Cat did not try to stop her own tears. The familiar terror of losing one’s child coupled with the pain that Jon was going through was too much. Vaguely she noticed Howland swiping at his face. Both adults let the boy cry. And themselves. The fear of not being able to protect and take care of your own child due to one’s own death… it was too much. And for Jon hearing all of this, the tragedy that surrounded him and all that he had lost, Cat could only imagine what he was going through.

Eventually Jon’s cries stopped. Cat comforted him past the point that his breathing returned to normal. 

“We found things in that room. The dragon egg which had that handwritten note underneath it. Ned decided that those two things could be kept in Winterfell. That if the wrong person found those, it would not be too damning. That when he decided to tell you the truth, they would be helpful to convince you if you doubted him. He left the other items in my care, knowing that they would be safe behind the walls of Greywater Watch. I brought all the items that had been entrusted to me. In the bags are Lyanna’s marriage cloak, Rhaegar’s letters to Lyanna and the documents of your birth and their marriage.”

Involuntarily Catelyn sucked in a breath and clutched Jon even tighter. 

It seemed she had kept her breath held for sometime because her body forced her to take another one. It was only then she realized Jon had become as still as stone. Questions burned inside of her. Softly, in a voice that sounded foreign to her, she sought clarification.

“Do you mean that Lyanna and Rheagar were married?” 

“Yes, she was his second wife. That document has all of the signatures one would need to prove it. In fact they made a copy, so there are two documents.” 

“I, I am.. trueborn?”

“Yes you are.” Replied Howland 

Jon tilted to look up at her. Through watery eyes and a wavering smile, Jon beamed up at her. Despite her own tears she smiled at him. Cat knew how much this meant to him. She understood he longed to know the truth about his mother since he was a young child. And he wanted to escape his status as a bastard. Now he has both. 

“The other documents state your name. Jaehaerys Targaryen.” 

Silence once again filled the void. Another reveal being dropped in them both. Jon had turned his attention back to Lord Reed, but he spared a glance out of the corner of his eye to look at her. With him not directly facing her, Catelyn could not be fully certain, but felt like she had a good guess as to what he was thinking about. 

“My son, you don’t have to go by Jaehaerys if you don’t want to. If you prefer you can still be called Jon. Of course other than in private with your family, you will have to go by Jon regardless. But you can take some time and think about it.” 

Jon gazed off into space, contemplation marred his features. Her son, not even a man yet (as much as he likes to think he is) has been put through so much. He should not have to deal with half of the trauma that has filled his life. And now his identity was once yanked away from him. Catelyn knew that he would need her support along with her daughters and even her Uncle Brynden.

Catelyn had her own questions. Does Howland know why Ned never told her anything surrounding Jon’s birth? If he knew what Ned’s plans were if he never got sick? And other things involving himself, Ned and Jon.

“I have not read the letters that Rhaegar wrote to Lyanna, I felt like those were only for your eyes Jon, or those that you deemed worthy. I can also, to the best of my abilities, answer any question you might have about your mother.” 

Catelyn flinched at the mention of Jon’s mother. She is his mother. She has loved him, taken care of him, supported and given him advice and comfort. He was her son. Yet, she had not given birth to him and now he had knowledge about who Lyanna really was. Lyanna was just an abstract concept more than anything, but now not so much. Plus he now had the opportunity to learn even more. Ironic, I shunned the boy back when I let my hate blind me and now I am fearful of him not seeing me as his mother. Maybe this is further punishment for my egregious actions.

Cat noticed that Jon had stayed silent. At some point he had moved his head as now he was staring into the flames. Stoic while watching them crackle and dance. 

“Thank you Lord Reed, but it grows late. I think it would be best for everyone if we pause the decisions for the night. If you find it agreeable we can continue this tomorrow evening.” 

“Of course my Lady, that is fine with me. I wish you both a good night.” 

Howland Reed stood up from the chair, turned and exited the room. The bags were left on the table before them. Jon did not outwardly react to any of it, gaze still locked on the flames. 

Catelyn let him be. Only able to understand a sliver of what he was dealing with. Softly she resumed her action of running her hand up and down his arm. 

“I think I am going to go to bed.”

“Of course Jon. If you need anything just let me know.” 

Cat rose up along with him, matching his steps as they went to the door. She opened the door for him, noticing that her uncle still stood guard on the other side. He had been adamant that he needed to be there, to make sure no one else could sneak up and overhear the content of the meeting. 

Jon took a step into the doorway and stopped. Turning around he brought his arms up and hugged her tightly, as if she was his lifeline. While he was doing it for his own comfort, Catelyn found that it brought her a great deal of it too. She hugged him back fiercely, trying to convey her love for him. 

“Thank you mother. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight my son, I love you very much.”

Chapter Text

Ch 13. Jon III

April 299

The Great Hall was in full swing as the food was starting to be served. Jon placed a bit of venison on his own plate, before passing it over to Arya. Turning his head to his right he gazed at Sansa as she took in the feast that was being held. Her smile seemed to be plastered upon her face. To him, his cousin looked radiant, which is how Sansa should be on her name day. 

The feast was definitely toned down when it came to the quantity and the diversity of the food being served. As Lady of Winterfell and acting warden of the North, Catelyn Stark had deemed it worthwhile for both Sansa and Jon himself to spend more time with her. She wanted them to have a better understanding of the North and its affairs. His mother had confided in them both about the issues surrounding their food supply. They were not in danger of starving at this current moment, but come winter it would be an issue. 

So after their mother had explained this to Sansa, she expounded that this is the reason for their feasts having gradually become smaller and smaller over the last few years. His cousin had taken it in stride and not complained at all. Actually Sansa had demanded to cut even more corners when it came to the food that would be served at the feast in her honor. And when Jon saw that his cousin was willing to make a personal sacrifice, he felt compelled to do the same. So he led more hunting parties then what was normal in the weeks leading up to the feast. Catelyn was concerned, but she did not stop him. But that's probably why the Blackfish joined him every time he went to hunt. 

Turning back to his own plate, Jon enjoyed the food that they did have for this special occasion. This provides Jon with a distraction, at least for a time, from his fears. Slowly, as he ate, his dread about what lies ahead started to crawl back up. Both his mother and Theon had told him there was nothing to be scared of. That Sansa would love his gifts, but his trepidation remained. 

Jon had decided to get her two different items. The first was a book, Rise and Fall of the Targaryen’s Volume II. A few years ago Maester Luwin had convinced their mother to allow him to purchase a few more books for Winterfell’s library. The first volume was a part of that new collection of books and Sansa had thoroughly enjoyed it. So Jon had sent word to White Harbor a few months back with a request to find the sequel and as luck would have it, the Manderly’s were able to. 

The other item was a silver chain necklace. From the necklace hung a small wolf pendant, which had a small blue gem for an eye. The stone did not hold any real value, but Jon thought that it looked nice. 

The combination of these two items took a heavy toll on his funds. In fact Jon needed to work a few odd jobs around the castle for a few days to help pay for the necklace. Jon was not upset that it had cost him so much time and money, in fact the opposite was true. The feeling of joy he had when he paid for both items out of his own packet would stick with him for some time. He did not have to go to his mother and request extra funds to help pay for his gift. Granted it was the allowance that he got from her that made up most of his money, but still, it felt good. 

Jon was pulled out of his thoughts as a voice to his left called his name. Looking past Arya he found the person that had called out to him. It was the Governess Lady Josey who was seated at the end of the table on Arya’s left. 

“Jon, you might want to go retrieve your gift. I believe Lady Stark is going to start the gift process very soon.” 

“Thank you my Lady, I will go do that now.” 

Jon spared another glance at Sansa and noticed that she was engaged with her friend Jeyne.

Quickly Jon left the great hall and navigated the corridors to his room. The fire in the room was burning low now, but the room retained its warmth. Swiftly he bent down and grabbed the book from under his bed. He double checked that the necklace was still trapped on the inside of the hard cover. Jon closed the book, wrapped a gray blanket around it, and set back off to rejoin the feast. The whole walk back he was trying, and failing, to keep his nerves from rising.

There was a man playing the harp at the back of the hall. Currently he was not playing any well known tune, just a soft melody that drifted and mixed into the background noise of the hall. 

Quickly Jon strode up and around the high table. Arya already had placed her gift up on the table, but it was still hidden by the blanket that she had placed around it. Jon had contemplated keeping his gift under the table like his youngest cousin, but ultimately with him sitting next to Sansa, he felt it best to keep it as far out of sight as possible. 

He quickly took his seat next to Sansa. Because it was her name day she got to pick who was next to her. So Jon was on her left and Jeyne on the right. Jon put the book in his lap and shuffled his seat closer to the table so it provided more protection from Sansa’s wandering gaze. Movement past Sansa caught his eye. His Mother was sending a questioning look. Jon assumed she was making sure he was ready with his gift, so he gave her a smile and a nod.

Before the friends and family displayed their gifts, the few lords that showed up for the celebration did so first. Medger Cerwyn and his two children presented colorful fabrics from the lands of Essos. Jon liked the Cerwyns, especially Cley because the lad was always nice to Jon and would spar with him when they came to Winterfell. Jon would even call him a friend, which he did not have many of. 

The next person to approach Sansa was Lady Lyessa Flint. The Lady of Widow’s Watch seemed to be a nice lady in Jon’s option. A few different times now Lyessa made the trek to Winterfell to visit her cousin, the governess Josey. The governess told Jon and his cousins stories from her childhood. Quite often those tales involved Lyessa. Gently the Lady placed gloves on the table before Sansa. They were black in color, but the ends were lined with some kind of white fur. Graciously Sansa thanked the Lady for the gift. 

The Karstark Lord and his youngest son brought a whole saddle up to their table and dropped it there before his cousin. 

“My Lady, I present you with a new saddle for your horse. It was crafted from the finest leather and made with the greatest of care. Like everything from Karhold it is tough, dependable and will do right by you. That I promise.” 

“Thank you Lord Karstark. The craftsmanship looks amazing, I am sure that it will be of great use to me. Thank you.” 

Rickard Karstark gave a smile before slightly bowing his head. Glaring at his retreating form did nothing for Jon. It was only after the Lord took his seat once more did he notice a pain coming from his right hand. Sparing a glance down, Jon noticed how white his knuckles had become. Fingers digging into his palm. Exhaling slowly, he released the tension of his fist. 

Jon hated how the lords did that. How they jockeyed for position to have their sons become Sansa's husband. She was more than just a prize to be won. She was so much more than that, but that was all they saw in her. A chance to have their blood be the next ruler, even if the name would be Stark. Catelyn had told them both it was a game that must be played. Their Mother explained that it would only get worse the older Sansa got. She promised to not make a decision before Sansa came of age and when she did, they would figure out the best solution for the North and Sansa’s personal life. Jon still hated that it happened. They did not deserve her and maybe a small part of him feared the thought of her feeling a certain way about one of them. But he locked those thoughts away.

Jon was so caught up in his thoughts that he missed the Tallhart party entirely. Once they returned to their table, the gifts changed from the visiting lords to friends and family. They started on the far side of the table and worked their way down. Uncle Benjen was starting another trek from the Wall down to King's Landing. Luckily he was staying a few extra nights to celebrate his Niece’s name day. He went first, followed by Catelyn and then Jeyne. 

Sansa hugged her friend and thanked her for the handkerchief which was made to show their friendship. Gently the handkerchief was placed on the table near the other gifts. Sansa shifted around in her chair to face him. The smile on her face was lovely and showed just how happy she was. 

Looking down in his lap, Jon could not help but fiddle with the edge of the blanket. Pinching and rubbing an edge between his thumb and forefinger. Pushing aside his nerves, or at least attempting to, Jon positions the book on the table between them. Returning his hands to his lap, he watched as Sansa removed the blanket. 

Jon gazed at his cousin. Her face took on that same slight concentration look that she always has when she reads. She reads the title out loud so those closest to her can hear. 

“There is more. Open up the cover of the book.” 

Sansa snuck a smile his way before following through with what he said. Jon could not stop himself from leaning over the table more, hoping to get a letter view of her reaction. 

With both hands she brought the necklace out of the book and into the light of the room. Jon could sense everyone at their table leaning in to try and get a better view, but he kept his eyes trained on Sansa. She twisted it some before scooping up the pendant with her right hand and brought it closer to herself. Her smile shifted into something more, and it was radiant. 

Sansa half turned before lunging towards him. On instinct Jon shot up. She collided with his chest. Quickly she snaked her arms around him and squeezed him tight. Jon returned the hug and released a sigh of relief. 

Sansa moved back some, putting a little distance between them, but not enough for Jon to drop his arms. Pushing herself up on her toes she closed the distance between them. Everything around Jon seemed to fade away as Sansa placed a quick, soft, chaste kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you cousin, it is beautiful.” It was said so softly and sweetly that Jon was sure no one else heard it. 

Heat spread from his left cheek, from the place where her lips had been, over to his other cheek. But it did not stop there, it expanded to his whole face and down his neck. Jon’s mind became hazy and his heart was rapidly hammering inside his chest. Trying and failing to get his mouth to work, Jon settled with a nod. He felt his face contort, but he had no control and just prayed that it was a smile. 

He must have looked funny because Sansa gave a small smile and kept her eyes away from him as she took her seat once more. Her cheek took a slightly rosy color. 

Even when Jon sat back down, he could not keep his gaze off of her. Vaguely aware that Arya and Josey gifted their presents. If someone was to ask Jon what those gifts were, he would have been unable to tell them. While he saw them exchange hands, they did not register to him at all. Only Sansa did.

He only moved his eyes away when dessert was placed before him, a lemon cake.

—------------------------------------------

The song died down and the dancers along with the hall as a whole, seemed to take a breath. Sansa came to a stop near the high table along with her partner, her uncle the Blackfish. Jon looked on as he gave her a bow, which brought a smile to her lips. Past them the Lady of the castle was doing the same thing with Benjen. He guided the lady back up to their table.

When the music had first started to play Benjen asked the name day girl for the first dance of the night. Then once that song was done he had done the same for Catelyn. Jon was glad that his mother was enjoying herself. She had been under a great deal of pressure lately and while Sansa and himself attempted to alleviate some of that, it was not enough. His Uncle pulled the chair out for Catelyn, let her sit down before doing the same. Jon could not help but wonder what these events must be like for his Uncle Benjen. Coming back to the place in which he grew up. A place where he used to play with his siblings and parents. The castle in which his brother ruled and died. Watching this new generation of Starks all the while knowing he will never have any children of his own. Jon knew how at times ghosts seemed to move about in these halls.

“Jon, would you care to dance with me?”

Turning around he smiled up at his cousin Sansa. “Of course my Lady, I would be honored to share a dance.”

Her smile seemed to grow even larger at his words. Quickly Jon stood up and offered his arm to his cousin. With them linked together they moved around the table and into the cleared out center of the great hall. While Jon would not call himself a great dancer, he now thinks of himself as passable. This is in large part due to his partner. Sansa, at every feast or celebration, always wanted to participate in the dancing. She never cared how bad he was, she always seemed to just grab him and dance. Jon could never say no to her, so he got a lot of practice over the years. His Mother also helped him in both private and when they danced together during those same feasts and celebrations. 

Sansa and Jon took up their positions as the other dancers gathered around. The band started and so did they. The song had a fast, lively and upbeat tone. Everyone enjoyed the constant movement that went along with this style. The pair of them swept around the room, going over and behind the others participating. Whenever Jon looked upon Sansa's face, he could not help the smile that took over. Seeing her joy always helps lift his spirit and make him smile.

The song came to a close as each couple found themselves before their partner once again. Jon took a low bow, then stepped forward and offered his arm once more. Sansa glanced at his arm before tilting up to look into his eyes.

“Would it be alright with you if we go again?” A shy look accompanied her question.

“That is more than fine. It is your name day after all Sansa, your wish is my command.”

“Well you might come to regret that Jon, you do know how I enjoy these dances.”

Chuckling he replied “How could I forget that, but if need be, I will suffer through any pain.”

Jon could admit to himself that he was happy to have caused her to chuckle. They both took their positions once more with smiles reflected at each other. Others gathered around them and while they were outside of his field of view, Jon knew their positions. The band started up again but this time the song was slightly slower. Not as slow as the songs couples slowly danced to, but still slower than the other songs that had been played.

It allowed everyone to actually dance directly with their partner, let them talk to one another. For some reason Jon’s heart started to beat a little faster the longer he danced with Sansa. And even more so when she leaned in closer to talk to him.

“Thank you for the gift, cousin. The necklace is very lovely, which is why I put it on before taking that first dance with Uncle Benjen” Jon had not even noticed that before now. Taking a quick glance, her statement was confirmed.

“And where did you find that book? It could not have been easy for you.”

“Ah well… a few months back I sent a raven to Lord Manderly to see if he could be on the lookout for that second volume. And as luck would have it a month ago he found it. With the promise to pay for the book and the courier, he was more than happy to have it sent to me.”

“I am glad that luck was on your side then. I am definitely looking forward to diving into it. Maybe tomorrow night we can start reading it.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

It was something that the pair still did to this day, read together. While his eye pain still restricted him from reading for too long, Sansa never grew tired of reading to him. It was something that he was immensely grateful for.

Slowly the song came to a close. Before Jon could even make a move, Sansa’s eyes got big and he was faced with a pleading look.

“Would you like to dance again my lady?”

“Of course my good sir. I am honored to share a dance.”

A laugh escaped him at her parroted words. That in turn makes her laugh.

“Hey Snow , why don’t you stop hogging the Lady and let others have a chance to dance with her.”

Jon, from the shock, physically pulled back before glancing to his right. A few feet from him at the edge of his vision, stood a boy of a similar age to Jon himself, maybe a little younger with yellow hair. Quickly Jon looked for a coat of arms or something to identify who this was because Jon was fairly sure he had never seen this person before.

“That is the second dance you have had with Lady Sansa, so why don’t you let some proper future northern lords have a turn.”

It was then that Jon noticed his house's arms over the chest of the lad. Three green tree’s over a field of brown, House Tallhart. This confused him for a moment, he knew Benfred Tallhart and would even call him a friend, but this was not him. 

“Are you mute Lord Snow ? I thought you were only blind.”

A fire started to roar to life from within Jon’s belly, his gaze locked on to this boy. Heat flashed up inside his whole body as his hands slowly curled in on themselves.

Suddenly he felt someone encase one of his arms inside both of theirs. 

“Jon! I think I would like a break from all this dancing. Could you guide me back to my chair please?”

He did not want to turn away completely from this Tallhart, but took a glance at Sansa. She was glued to his side and was looking pleadingly at him. Sansa’s touch along with her deep blue eyes made the fire inside lessen. Giving a stilted nod, he allowed his cousin to guide them both away from the dance floor.

“Oh great, now the bastard has ruined all of the fun.”

Almost on instinct Jon flipped around, slipping out of Sansa’s grasp in the process. While he knew that he was not a bastard, the insult still struck a nerve. Maybe it was from growing up believing it to be true or maybe it was just that others still thought so lowly of him. But in the moment all of the fire came flaring back up. Jon squared himself directly facing his opponent but stopped himself. For a moment all Jon could think about was how good it would feel for his fist to connect with the other's face. A twist form of satisfaction came to Jon when for a split second the boy stared back with fear in his eyes. But the Tallhart quickly bowed up.  

I can’t let my anger control me. I would only shame Sansa and House Stark if I acted on his insults.

Sansa once again wrapped her arms around his right arm and pleaded with him to take her back to their table.

“Of course Sansa, whatever you want we will do.”

As they were turning around, Tallhart, in a not so quiet voice, called him a bastard once more. Jon kept on turning and took a few steps away from him.

Jon had just become fully facing the high table when a blur flew past him in the direction of where the boy was. Trying to keep up with the moving object, Jon turned his head and shoulders to see what it was, but it quickly got outside of his vision.

“How dare you talk to Jon that way!” Said a screaming Arya, who apparently had heard enough of the exchange.

“He is a better person than you will ever be. You are just a stupid nobody, but Jon is a great warrior and-”

“Just shut up you brat.”

To Jon it felt like it was almost happening in slow motion. He sensed the Tallhart pushing Arya back with enough force for her to stumble and lose her footing. She fell backwards, and put her elbows back in an attempt to brace herself. Jon sensed her elbows and butt/lower back make contact with the stone floor of the great hall. All Jon saw and felt was red.

Instantly Jon was soaring around and over Arya. His right shoulder makes direct contact with the Tallhart’s chest. Slamming down on top of the other boy, Jon quickly tried to push himself up. Momentarily he slipped which caused their heads to bang against each other. 

Jon slid up and planted his knee over the other’s right arm, but the boy’s left was free. Jon knew this when the left hand found purchase on his face. Tallhart pushed hard in an attempt to free himself. Jon slapped the hand away, cocked back his right, and brought it down with as much force as he could. 

Jon heard and felt the crunch of the nose beneath his fist. Bringing his left back he repeated his action. The boy’s face wiped back in the other direction with his left fist making contact. 

His heart pounded in his ears with his blood roaring. A red haze coated his eyesight. Wildly he brought his right arm back once more. Jon wanted to make this boy hurt . Right when his arm reached its peak, something pulled Jon back up and away from his opponent. Filing his arms and legs down towards the floor did nothing to stop his ascent upwards.

Jon quickly sensed who the man was that was pulling him off of the other boy. It was the Blackfish. He ceased his flailing. Slowly the blood rushing in his ears began to slow and allow him to hear what the man was trying to say to him.

“Calm down Jon, calm yourself. You got him, now calm down.”

Jon’s chest felt tight and he had to force himself to take deep breaths. Willing himself to snuff out the fire, or at least as much as he can. The Tallhart boy was not in his field of view so Jon reached out. He was being pulled in the other direction by an adult and there was another boy screaming at him, berating the Tallhart for his actions.

“Are you alright Jon?” 

He wanted to answer the Blackfish, but his throat and jaw were too tight. A jerky nod was the best he could do. It was only when his feet touched the floor that the victim of the boy's attack returned to Jon’s mind. His rage had kept him solely forced on the other boy.

Reaching out he sensed his mother checking on Arya, who was up and standing. She kept repeating that she was fine, all the while looking his way. He also could hear and sense Theon shouting insults at the Tallhart while fighting against the hold that Benjen had on him.

A booming voice cut through the hall and made everyone shift their focus over to it.

“Lady Stark, that bastard needs to pay for what he did to my son.”

The lady seemed slightly taken aback by the statement. Probably due to the lunacy of it Jon thought. The Lord quickly pushed on.

“He savagely attacked my son, who is the nephew of Lord Helman Tallhart. Something must be done!”

“My Lord , your son insulted Jon who is the son of your late Lord and brother to the future Lady of Winterfell. And then he pushed over my daughter Lady Arya.” In a different situation, Jon would have laughed at the last part. Arya, for her part, did not even flinch at the title. Jon could feel how everyone around them was holding their breath.

“Any insults directed at Jon Snow only happened due to his own actions. He should have treated someone of true and noble birth with the respect that is owed to him. My son just wanted to dance with Lady Sansa, and that boy did not allow it. He needs to be punished for breaking my son's nose.”

The gall of that man! 

A new voice made its entrance “My Lord, it was by my request to my brother which caused him to keep dancing with me. Your son’s own impatience led to his distasteful tongue making its presence known to all. Jon was the gentleman here and never uttered a word toward your son Brandon. Jon was respectful and chivalrous during their whole encounter despite the insults being thrown.”

Sansa shifted her gaze away from the man and looked at him. He could feel her eyes on him. Jon began to feel something bloom up inside his chest at her words and her gaze.

“Jon is very protective of Arya and myself, something which I think you all already know.” She turned her head to look at all of those present in the hall with them.

“It is his best quality, one which I think reflects well on those that raised him. My father, mother and uncles all played a major role in that. Jon always acts like a true knight, protecting those in need. I can’t help but think that if Jon’s protectiveness and chivalry reflect upon his character and upbringing, what does that mean about Brandon Tallhart and those that shape his life.”

She looked around once more, letting her words sink in to all of those present. Honestly Jon thought that everyone was stunned to silence due to his cousin’s speech. She was a few years away from majority, yet already had them hanging on her every word.

“If anything, I think Jon should receive praise for his actions. For I know once again he is willing to defend my sister and myself when we are attacked. I am just glad that Arya is alright.”

Jon was not really sure what was going on inside his heart, but he had never felt more appreciated and loved in his life. Sansa was putting herself out there, for his sake. Rage had caused his chest to beat rapidly, but now something else was making it do the same.

The Lord at least had the decency to appear ashamed and did not reply to the accusation volleyed at him and his son.

“Come on lad, let's get you back to your room and have Maester Luwin check you over.”

Jon allowed Brynden Tully to steer him back to his quarters. He kept his head down as he passed all those who were present. Not because of shame, definitely not that because if Jon had a chance to do it all over again he would. It was due to the attention being given to him. Jon did not want to try and dwell on what the other Lords might be thinking. 

—------------------------------------------

He was finally alone in his room. Luwin had given him a once over and declared him fit, which Jon could have told the man that himself. The Maester left to go check on Brandon Tallhart. Jon smirked at that thought. And now Brynden left to go find his niece who was apparently trying to put Arya to bed. Thus leaving him alone with only the fire in his room for company.

Looking down at his hands, he rolled them over so his knuckles were facing him. Maester Luwin had cleaned the bits of blood that had been stuck to them. They still felt hot. He still felt hot. Rage was just under the surface, but it was accompanied by something else (mainly when he thought of Sansa and what she did for him).

How dare that boy, Brandon, attack Arya! How dare he assume he had a right to be in Sansa’s presence!

Some external force pulled Jon from his dark thoughts. It was sudden and quick. He turned his head to the base of his bed, where his trunk was. A pull caused him to go to his feet.

Finding himself before the truck, Jon opened it. In an almost trance-like state, he pushed clothing to the side, and removed the wood plank at the bottom. He pulled out the egg.

He moved back to the bed and got on top of it. Jon slid up until his back was against the headboard. After shifting around some, the egg was firmly held to Jon’s middle with his arms encompassing it. 

The room was hot, his chest was hot, his knuckles were hot and so were his arms. Jon felt a feeling of calm slowly wash over him.

For reasons unknown to Jon his thoughts drifted to the man who used to occupy his dreams, the old man named Brynden. It had been many years since Jon had a dream or vision with him in it. Brynden mentioned that his powers were growing weaker, making it difficult for him to keep this form of communication going. He said that they would talk again in the future, but things needed to happen before that would be possible. In his normal, cryptic way, he did not explain what actually had to happen, just that he was confident that it would. The man had been a major help to Jon in his early days after his injury. To Jon the man still creeped him out, but in a way he missed him. In a way-

A knock brought him back to the present. Jon called for the person to enter.

The door cracked open and Sansa slipped in. Closing the door behind her back, she just stared at him. And he stared back.

“Hello Sansa, are you alright?”

Jon’s words snapped her out of her reverie. She ran to the bed and dived into his side. Dropping his right arm from the egg, he wrapped it around her back as she put both of hers around his shoulders.

“Thank goodness you are ok.”

“I am just glad that you and Arya are alright. I am so sorry for embarrassing you on your name-”

“You did not embarrass me Jon, I should have just let you punch that jerk after the first insult left his slimy mouth.”

He chuckled as he squeezed her a little tighter. They held the embrace and let the fire’s crackles fill the space around them. Both enjoying the peaceful moment after the craziness that happened a short time before.

“You have the egg out.”

While it was said as a statement, he knew the question behind it. In all the years after the initial truth had been revealed, he only ever took the egg out of the chest twice. Each time was because his cousins requested to see it. So of course he obliged. Though they did pick up how uncomfortable the egg made him feel and the truths that it pointed to.

“I… I don’t know. I just felt like holding it.” It was a weak reasoning, but Jon did not know what else to say. Mentioning that it seemed to call to him would not have been the right thing, of that he was sure.

Sansa hummed and turned her head to get a better look at it. Maybe he was unable to admit it before, but Jon found the egg to be something of great beauty. Turing the egg, Jon studied the swirls of white and specks of red. The black scales seemed to come alive under the light from the fire. Maybe being a Targaryen has its perks.

Another knock sounded from the door. In unison both Sansa and Jon turned to first look at the door, then each other. Whispering, Sansa broke the silence with a whisper. “What about your dragon egg?”

In the moment Jon almost forgot how dangerous it would be for him to have a dragon egg. It just felt so right it slipped his mind.

“Who is it?” Jon called out.

“It is just me Jon, may I come in?”

“Of course.”

In slipped Catelyn Stark. For a moment she froze after closing the door, just like how Sansa did. But she seemed to just be taking them in. A feeling of embarrassment crept in for Jon. Like as if he got caught doing something that he should not be. He turned back to his egg to avoid the eyes of the other two now in his room.

“Are you alright Jon?”

“Yes I am.”

When he finally got the courage to look at her, his mother had her head tilted with her eyebrows raised. A small smile came forth on his face.

“I promise Mother, I truly am fine. If you need someone else's opinion you can ask Maester Luwin.”

The Lady crossed over to the other side of the bed and sat herself down next to Jon.

“I believe you, Jon. It is just a Mother’s job to worry about her children.”

I don’t think I will ever get used to that. Honestly I hope I never will, I love this feeling too much. Again Jon turned down to face his egg.

“Benfred stopped me before I left the hall. He wanted me to tell you Jon how sorry he was for his cousin’s actions. He said that Brandon has always been, and I quote, ‘An entitled prick’” 

Laughter came from the Lady of Winterfell, while Jon and his cousin stared wide-eyed at their mother. Jon could not think of a single time where he heard her use such language.

“The boy then hastily apologized for using such language before a Lady.” Jon shared a look with Sansa before they both burst out laughing. 

Catelyn allowed them to laugh some more before she continued.

“It is improper language and I don’t want to hear the two of you start using it." She fixed them with a look that caused the pair of them to quickly agree with her. "I just felt we could all use the chuckle so I repeated it.”

“Mother, will anything happen to Jon”

“No, nothing will happen to Jon. Helman sought me out and assured me he did not blame Jon for anything. He also apologized for the actions taken by his nephew AND for how his brother Leobald acted. I think it was your words Sansa, that affected how the Tallharts and everyone present in the hall interpreted the events that transpired. Or at least kept them from believing the lies that were being said.”

Sansa's cheeks went red, blushing at the praise. Jon smiled at the sight. The way the firelight hit her face and hair, coupled with her shy smile… Jon thought she looked beautiful.

Chapter Text

Ch 14. Sansa III

Feb 301

Diligently Sansa threaded the needle through the jerkin. It belonged to Jon who had caused the tear last week in the training yard. She convinced her cousin to allow her to make the repair because she was still working on perfecting the craft of mending men’s clothing. Which was not a complete lie. Lady Josey said that one can always improve in their craft, but Sansa knew that she did not really require any more practice with men’s clothing. But Sansa enjoyed mending Jon’s clothing, it was something that she was able to do for him.

Thunk

Today was a lovely day, so Sansa decided to spend it outside. Currently she was seated next to Jeyne overlooking the archery yard. Jon, Theon and Arya were having a competition.

“Sorry Lady Stark, better luck next time”

“Shut up you stupid squid. You just got lucky.”

“Lucky? Lucky? What about the time before this or how about every other time? Has it been luck all this time? At least you show some improvement, you might be able to beat Jon before you turn twenty.” 

A feral cry came from her sister. Sansa kept her head down, focused on her work. She could imagine Arya throwing down her bow and chasing after Theon around the barrels of arrows. Pulling the needle through, Sansa stopped to examine her work. A laugh from below caused her to shift her eyes towards the yard.

Jon, with his arms crossed over his chest, stood off to the side watching. He was laughing at the shenanigans of the other two.

Her mother’s voice called out “What are you smiling about?” 

She came from further down the walkway, coming towards Sansa and Jeyne. Sansa did not even know that she was smiling, quickly she scrambled to come up with an answer.

“I was smiling about… the antics of Arya and Theon.” The Lady of Winterfell came to a stop next to them and looked over the railing. The Greyjoy was using two barrels as a safe barrier between himself and Arya.

“You better get your copy cat Snow or else she might start destroying everything in her path just like last time.” 

Another shriek left the mouth of her sister.

“Oh shut it Greyjoy, you knew what you were doing.” Walking up behind Arya, Jon slipped his hands under her arms, and lifted her up. Her flailing did nothing as Jon just held her out before himself.

“Let me go! I have to punch that smug look off of his stupid face.” 

Sansa watched as her cousin quickly glanced up at them before bringing Arya closer to his chest. Sansa could not hear what he was whispering to her, but it caused her wild sister to stop kicking about. She too looked up at the walkway and mumbled an apology.

The sound of boots on wood caused Sansa to turn her head. Striding towards them with a purpose was her uncle Brynden.

“Cat, one of the patrols found a Night’s Watch deserter.” 

Sansa glanced between them as her mother failed to reply. 

“This needs to be taken care of Cat.” 

Her mother’s face contorted as a myriad of emotions flashed by. Something was clearly going on, but Sansa could not figure out what it was. The silence stretched on and it was starting to become uncomfortable to those present. Her uncle just stayed still and let her mother work out whatever it was. 

Finally the Lady of Winterfell shifted her gaze away from Brynden.

“Sansa, your Uncle and I have talked about this and we think… it would be best if you join Jon as he goes with your uncle to see justice be delivered. As the future lady of these lands it would be prudent for you to watch this matter being dealt with.” 

Her body tensed and a cold pit formed in her stomach. Sansa shifted her eyes between the two adults present before her. They want me to witness the beheading!?

Jon had told her what it was like. A few years ago they had caught a deserter. Benjen had by chance been at Winterfell when they found him. Their Uncle had bright Jon along with him. Benjen had said that he along with Brandon and Ned were made to witness their own father carry out these types of sentences. So their Uncle brought Jon along when he went out to do the deed. 

Two days later, after Jon had been brooding even more than normal, he revealed what had been occupying his mind. They had just finished their nightly reading when she asked him the question. While he did not go into any gruesome details, he gave an outline of what happened. He also told her how he felt while watching it. How uncomfortable and dirty it was, how a coldness seemed to grip him. It did not matter that he could not actually see it with his diminished eyesight, he sensed it with perfect, grisly clarity. Also how the act reminded him of the day outside the walls of Winterfell... 

And now they wanted her to bear witness to one. But this would not be the first time that Sansa has faced death. No, she had been forced to face that years ago.

Her uncle Brynden kept his face neutral, just looking directly at her. Glancing at her Mother, Sansa saw that her face was also neutral, but her eyes betrayed her. Sadness and anger called out to Sansa from her Mother's eyes. If she had to guess, it would be that Catelyn did not want her daughter to have to see a beheading. But her Uncles convinced her to allow just that to happen. 

Well, if it is a duty that I must do, I will face it like the future Lady of Winterfell that I will become.  

Squaring her shoulders, Sansa turned back towards her Uncle. 

“When do we leave?” 

—------------------------------------------

Fear was gnawing at her insides. Sansa gripped her dress tightly at the place where her hands meet together at her front. 

The deserter was led over to the block. He was rambling about nightmarish horrors that he witnessed from beyond the wall. Her Uncle was indifferent to his rambling, just waiting for the man’s head to be placed before him. Theon stood off to the side with a great sword at the ready. 

Sansa knew that Benjen had used the Stark sword that first time Jon had witnessed a beheading. But her Uncle Brynden opted to leave it back at the castle. 

Her Uncle began to recite words about the King and his kingdom. Sansa closed her eyes and wished for this all to be over. 

“Don’t look away Sansa. You must appear strong in front of all of the soldiers present. They will look to you to lead them one day. Show them that you are the wolf that I know you to be.” 

Jon’s words calmed some of Sansa’s nerves and gave her the resolve she needed. Resolve that she could face this. She was a Stark of Winterfell. Sansa trained her eyes on the man being forced to kneel before her Uncle. 

Ser Brynden brought the sword above his head. The sun reflected off the polished steel. Swiftly the blade was brought down and sliced through flesh.

Cold numbness filled her chest and Sansa felt pressure behind her eyes. The head rolled to a stop and when it did, she allowed herself to turn away from the scene. Jon stepped towards her and met her gaze. He lifted an arm in her direction, but stopped. His eyes shifted about, and he dropped his hand. 

“You did very well Sansa.” 

“Thank you Jon.”

He gave her a gentle smile, which paired with his words, helped ground her somewhat. 

The group quickly remounted their horses and started back towards Winterfell. For once Sansa found herself towards the back of the riding party. Her mind leaves her unable to do much more than riding. Jon rode next to her while two others took up their rear to guard their back. Sansa thought it might have been Jory and Ronnel, but she did not feel like checking. 

“I meant it when I said you did good by not turning away. I do believe some of them were watching for your reaction.” 

Sansa nodded for her reply. While Jon’s support did help, it did not take away the feeling that she had inside after witnessing death in such a brutal way. Well, being forced to face it for the first time since that day.

Their horses trotted along the path. Jon, thankfully, let her work out her thoughts and feelings on her own. It was something he was good at. Know when and how to help her. 

“Does it get any easier? You know, watching that ?”

Her cousin seemed to ponder her question. His eyes roaming around their surroundings. 

“I would say yes. Maybe it helps that I go on hunts. But each time I have witnessed an execution, it seems a little less hard to face than the time before it. Though it is still not easy, it is something that we must do.” 

His eyes had settled on her, which allowed Sansa to see the truth of his words. Jon continued on. 

“Uncle Benjen told me that ‘he who passes the sentence should swing the sword.’ That is why both of us have to stand witness. The other person deserves to have you look them in their eye when their sentence is passed.” 

Sansa knew that this was not how things were done south of the Neck. They had executioners carry out the sentence. The King or Lord needs not be present much less actually kill the individual. But as she thought about it, she felt the northern way was better. If I can’t look them in the eye, maybe I should not be handing out that sentence. Even if I won’t be the one to swing the sword.  

The wind shifted and with it Sansa thought that she heard something. Or maybe just felt it? Shifting her head over to the right, she looked past Jon. It was then that she noticed he was doing the same thing, looking off into the green foliage. Something was calling her to go in that direction. 

“Jon… do you…” 

“It feels like something is calling to me. I believe we need to go over there.” 

Ripping her gaze away from what lies beyond, Sansa turned around.

“Jory, there is something over there that we need to check out.” 

“Are you sure that is wise my lady? I mean how far off the path are you planning on going?” 

Sansa pulled on the reins in the direction she felt like she needed to go. 

“It is safe.” 

Together with her cousin, they made their way deeper into the woods. It was not so dense that they had to unmount, but they were no longer on a clear path. They brushed past the shrubbery as the pulling seemed to grow.

They came to a clearing and a large beast greeted them. Momently the future lady pulled back, fearful of what this large thing could do. But the invisible  pull remained, so she looked again and realized the thing was dead. Gracefully Jon dismounted and approached. 

“It’s a direwolf.” His voice was laced with awe. He knelt down near the wolf’s underside. Giving the beast a once over, Sansa came to the conclusion that the direwolf fought until its very end. Dried blood coated its hair. It did not look to have died easily.

Small whimpering pulled Sansa back to her cousin. Slowly he pulled out two balls of fur. No, not fur, direwolf pups!

“The large wolf appears to be their mother, they were trying to get milk from it.” 

“We better kill those two things before they turn into deadly beasts” Said a voice from over Sansa’s shoulder.

Theon sat mounted behind Sansa, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. The thought of killing the two pups appalled Sansa.

“We will do no such thing. They are just pups, they do not deserve your blade.” Frantically she looked to Jon, knowing he would support her. And he did. 

“The direwolf is the symbol of House Stark. There are two pups, both female. The two true born ladies of House Stark are meant to have them, it is a sign from the old gods.”

“You are a Stark too Jon.” 

A melancholy look marred his features. 

“Not quite, not like you and Arya.” 

Jon came over to her and held the two pups out between them. Acting on instinct Sansa chooses the one of the left. The soft fur flows through her fingers as she holds the small wolf before her, studying it. A small thing this direwolf is, thinks Sansa, nothing like the large beast that was its mother. As Sansa studies it more, she starts to feel a deep connection towards the wolf. Like she understands this pup on a fundamental level or maybe it is the other way around.

Jon starts back towards his mount with the other female pup tucked against his chest. Sansa goes to follow him, but comes to a stop when she sees her cousin do the same. Curiously Jon turns back around. 

He strides over to the dead animal with a purpose. Kneeling down next to the bush that was closest to the mother direwolf. Standing and turning, Sansa sees what he went back for. A small white furry pup with its red eyes already open, taking in the world around it. 

—------------------------------------------

Walking alongside her sister, Sansa watched as their pups jumped and wove their way around them. Nymeria nipped at Lady which caused another chase to start between the two of them. Sansa’s direwolf loved to engage in the play between her litter mates, but Lady tended to not jump and tumble around as much as Arya’s did. Sansa smiled as her wolf caught back up to Nymeria, nipped her, and promptly ran away.

“What do you think Mother could want from us?”

Sansa glanced at her sister as they started their assent up the stairwell. She pondered Arya’s question, but nothing came to mind.

“I have no clue, it must be important if it can’t wait until after dinner.”

 Sansa and her sister had just finished up their needle work with Lady Josey when a servant informed them to meet their mother in her solar. Sansa was glad that her mother had waited until their lesson was done, embroidery was something that she had always enjoyed. Arya, well, she just put up with it so she could continue her training with a sword and bow.

“I hope it has something to do with wildlings.”

“Wildlings? Why on earth do you hope for that?”

“Because it would mean we would get to fight!”

“Is that all you care about? You do realize that if the north has to do any fighting, you won’t be a part of it.”

“Well I could be. Besides, even if I can’t, people will come back with stories of battles.”

Sansa just shook her head and remained silent. She is impossible .

When they came to the solar door, Sansa knocked, and was quickly called in by her Mother. She sat behind her desk with their Uncle standing off to the left. Her cousin Jon was residing in one of the chairs that faced the desk. His dark curls were sticking to his forehead, which meant he must have been getting some extra training in during his free time. I hope he continues to practice later once this is done. I do enjoy watching him train…

The two female direwolf pups quickly joined their brother on the far side of the room. Quickly running and playing with each other.

“Please sit girls, I have some news that I think everyone here needs to hear.” Their mother waited until they took their seats. Jon on Sansa’s left while Arya was on the right.

“A little while ago I received a raven from Lord Wyman Manderly. In his message he talks about a fire that broke out near their harbor. Fortunately the harbor itself only received minor damage, but that is where the luck runs out. A few people lost their lives while trying to put it out and the reason they risked so much was because of which buildings were on fire. They completely lost one of their major food storage buildings and the majority of another one.”

The atmosphere in the room continued to drop the more her Mother talked. Jon released a shaky breath and hunched his shoulders forward. Her Uncle looked grim, but based on his reaction, Sansa hazarded a guess that he had already been informed. Arya just looked at their Mother with wide eyes.

“The buildings apparently were used for all of the food that they receive each day from the ships they made trade with. That food obviously feeds the people that call White Harbor home, but plenty of that food finds its way all across the north.”

The Lady of Winterfell took a breath, then a drink of water. Sansa shared a look with Jon. For years the both of them have known the issue that was their food storages, and this would only make it worse. Much worse.

“I know our food storage is low, but I have ordered for some of our surplus to be sent to White Harbor. I have also instructed other Lords to do the same. I called for you three because we need to come up with a solution to our food problem. Jon you are now considered a man, Sansa and Arya, you will both reach your majority sooner than I would like. Your Uncle Brynden and myself are considering a few options.”

Taking a breath the Lady of Winterfell gathered her strength. “The first is dipping into the rest of our emergency fund and purchasing the necessary grain we will need to replenish our winter food storage and what is needed for White Harbor. Another thought is taking a loan from the Iron Bank and getting our food that way. The other option is we send representatives down to Kings Landing and they try to find some new trade deals. Take a moment to think and then share your thoughts on the situation.”

Immediately Sansa started to think about the terrible situation and the options presented to her. Dipping into the emergency fund sounds like the easiest, but if anything else were to happen, they would be in big trouble. The Iron bank would work for a time, but the interest they would have to pay on the loan might really hurt them. If the north did not get turned around, they would probably have to pay off the bank with their funds. Which means the same problems as option one.

That left the final option of having people from the north, travel down south in search of new and different trade deals. So the question is who could be their representatives. Mother would be ideal, but she can’t really leave the north in my hands for an undetermined amount of time, that would not go over well. Also she would not want to be parted from all of her family for that long. The Manderly’s would be ideal because of their trading ways plus they hold the faith, but it seems highly unlikely that they would leave their home while it is being put back to rights.

Jon’s voice brought her out of her thoughts. “The only real route we can take is the one down in King's Landing. Using the last of our reserve funds would leave us vulnerable if anything else were to happen. The Iron Bank will eventually make us pay and if we don’t get the North turned around or if another disaster happens, well we might have to just use the last of our coin to pay them off.”

Sansa voiced her support behind her cousin. Arya merely nodded. She had only been joining their Mother in these types of talks since her twelfth name day, so it was not a surprise to Sansa that her sister did not speak up much. It was about the only time her sister remained silent about anything, even she knew the importance of these talks.

“I have been thinking the same thing Jon.” Said their mother. “But the question is who could we send in our stead? Lord Manderly and his sons would be ideal, but with the fire the timing is not right for them. Lord Bolton could probably handle the southern court, but you know where I stand on him.”

Sansa just nodded along with her mother. Roose Bolton gave her the chills and those pale eyes always made her feel exposed. It was also strange that he never brought his son to Winterfell. Sansa thought that even though he was a bastard, he would have been brought one of the times Lord Bolton visited. The lord also never asked to legitimize his bastard after his true born son died to the sickness. Everything about him was strange and unnerving.

“I don’t think Lords Umber and Kartark would be suitable for this task. They do not have the patience to be in the southern court.” Stated her Uncle.

The room once again fell into silence as the group considered the other possible lords.

To her left, her cousin spoke up once again. “So we would send Robett Glover in our place. Along with maybe a few other smaller Lords to fill out the group?”

“I fear you have the right of it Jon. I am not wholly confident in his abilities to make a trade or one that benefits everyone, but who else among the other lords can?”

No one Sansa thought. She has seen and talked to every lord of the North. If everything she has read and heard about is true, or even just halfway true, then the remaining options might not get a deal done down in King’s Landing. At least not one that will actually benefit ALL of the north. A Stark needed to do this. A Stark should be doing this, it was their lands after all. Sansa glanced around the room and looked at what remained of their family. If they failed here, it could have dire repercussions. She knew what needed to be done.

“I will go to King’s Landing and represent House Stark and the North. I can find us trade.”

At once four pairs of eyes were on her. But Sansa did not cower. No, she pushed forward.

“You said it yourself Mother, we can’t trust the other Lords will do what is good for the whole north, much less actually succeed in finding a good trade. They were not taught anything about the south. But I was, Maester Luwin and yourself have both taught me much. I can do this. What type of message would we be sending if we have to ask other lords to help solve a situation that we can’t ourselves solve. Let me go and prove myself to the Lords of the North.”

The Lady of Winterfell quickly opened her mouth, but no words came forth. Sansa watched as her mother closed her mouth and worked her jaw. “I can’t just send you to that viper’s nest. I know you are capable, but you have never experienced anything like the court in King’s Landing. Plus while you are Stark, you are not yet a woman. Which will be held against you by many. And even if you were grown, others would still dismiss you for being a woman.”

“Uncle Brynden can come with me so I won’t be alone. Plus he commands respect, he is a well known knight. If he is willing to join me of course” Sansa quickly adds the last part. 

“I would not let you navigate those waters by yourself, niece”

“I can go with her as well.”

All the eyes in the room now turned to Jon

“I can help protect Sansa and be there when Ser Brynden and her are negotiating.”

“No way Jon, I don’t want Sansa to go, and now you want to go with her. No way.”

“Mother, I am a man grown, you said it yourself. Plus all that we have heard about, including from you, is how you can’t trust anyone in King’s Landing. No one but your family. Well, if Ser Brynden goes, and if I go, Sansa will now have two confidants she can trust in. We would also be going with a contingent of House Stark guards, we will be safe. Sansa has the right of it, House Stark must be the ones to do this. We can’t appear weak and the people must be helped.” 

Her mother glazed around at the three of them. Her face a cross between anger and worry.  Sansa knew that she was right, it must be her that goes. And while she knew it was dangerous, she could also not deny the allure that is the opportunity to see the great capital. But she would not voice that part, it would make others believe that is the only reason she wants to go, which is not the case. Her mother gave a sigh of frustration and threw her hands up.

“Fine. Fine! You can go. I dislike it when you two gang up on me.” Giving another sigh and a shake of the head her mother paused before continuing. “I don’t like it, but your logic makes sense Sansa. But Jon, is it really wise for you to go to that city? What if someone recognizes the Prince in you?”

Jon shifted in his chair. It was rare that any of them brought up Jon’s birth parents to him. Or even spoke about it in general.

“I feel like I must go. You worry about Sansa’s safety, and so do I. But I am able to go along with her, so I feel like I must. No one has recognized me yet and I don’t believe anyone will.”

“While I would also worry about you, I admit it would bring me a small comfort knowing you both will have each other along with Uncle Brynden. AND a host of household guards.”

Sansa breathed a sigh of relief. “I promise to find aid for the north and bring honor to House Stark.”

“I know you will Sansa, I believe in you.”

“I will go too!” 

“Absolutely not! Arya, your place is here in Winterfell. Together you and I must look after the North while your Sister, Cousin and Uncle are down in the south.”

“Hm.” Crossing her arms, Arya cowled down at the floor. 

But her sister’s attitude would not bring Sansa down. She will finally get her wish to see the south. But it was not all joy. Uncertainty and even fear dwelled in her. Sansa knew that much was relying on their success. She would not fail.

Chapter Text

Ch15. Sansa IV

Mar 301

The air seemed so full of melancholy that for Sansa it felt like she was breathing it in every time she took a breath. The Lady Wynafryd Manderly was walking slightly in front of Sansa, as she was showing their group the damage that was done by the fire. Sansa looked at the faces of everyone that they passed and they all reflected the same thing. Pain, loss and uncertainty. Even the two direwolf pups were more subdued than normal.

“We are still not completely sure what caused the fire to start. The best guess is that one of the workers was doing a check inside the storage warehouse. It was dusk when the fire started. So the thought is a torch was brought inside and something caught aflame.”

The ground beneath their feet was damp from the recent rain, the sky was still marked by the dark clouds. For a moment Sansa thoughts drifted to the washing that she will have to give Lady once they return to New Castle. That line of thinking rapidly disappeared as they closed in on the remains of the storage building. Charred debris is the only thing still remaining. Just beyond was another building that was partially intact. The side closest to them was gone with blackened edges on the remaining outer walls. 

On instinct Sansa reaches out with her right hand and grasps her cousin’s. Jon gave her a squeeze as they both took in the distinction before them. Wynafryd explained how they were able to stop the fire and the lives that had been saved. While Sansa listened to what the Lady before them had to say, her eyes never left the ruin before them. 

“I know the day grows late, are you all ready to head back to the castle?” 

Sansa quickly glanced at both her uncle and cousin. “That sounds like a good idea Lady Wynafryd, thank you.” Replied Sansa after getting a nod from both. 

It was only when they turned around to start their walk back did Sansa notice that she was still holding onto Jon’s hand. She slipped out of his grasp, but latched into his arm so she would not be apart from him. 

The walk back to New Castle was quiet, which allowed Sansa’s mind to wonder. The distraction that they witnessed, the thing that caused them to set out on their adventure south. And with that, the realization of how vitally important their success in King’s Landing is for so many here in the north. 

Only once they crossed the threshold into the castle itself did their Lady guide break the silence. “I will escort you both back to your rooms and let you all get ready for the feast tonight. My sister or myself will come to retrieve you when it is time to start.” 

“Lady Wynafryd, do you mind reminding me how many families lost a member to the fire?” 

Sansa turned to look at Jon as he spoke. She was unsure of the reasoning behind asking such a question. But Jon only spoke when he felt the need to, so Sansa knew it must be important.

“Eight families lost a loved one, my Lord.”

“Do you think we can meet with them before we board the ship tomorrow?” 

“I believe that could be arranged. Might I ask why?”

“I would like to express my condolences and to help them monetarily as well. While it won’t be much, I imagine that to those families they might have lost the person that provided their main form of income. I just want to help any way that I can.” 

Sansa smiled up at her thoughtful and kind cousin. Turning she saw a matching smile on Wynafryd Manderly’s face. 

“That is a very thoughtful gesture my Lord. Once again House Manderly and the people of White Harbor are in debt to House Stark.” 

Jon, like he typically does, blushed at the praise. It amuses Sansa every time he gets embarrassed when someone of importance praises him. To save him she replied upon his behalf. 

“The North is stronger when we are united and everyone is taken care of. As you know a rising tide raises all ships.” 

“Well said my Lady, now let me show you back to your rooms. I am sure my grandfather will be trying to put on a feast you both will remember long after you have set sail.” 

—————

The bed gently rocked beneath Sansa as she watched the two pups jump and tumble around inside her cabin. Through the first day and night, the rocking of the ship gave both Sansa and her cousin a slight ill feeling. Thankfully they had both overcome the sickness and were able to go about their days without feeling the need to be near a pot, bucket or the side of the ship. 

Getting past sea sickness is the very reason Ghost is in her cabin and not with Jon. This evening, after they ate, he wanted to try sparing on the deck of their moving ship. Sansa had stayed to watch the first few bouts, but retired to her room as she had grown tired. 

She hoped that this night would provide better sleep than the previous two. Though she doubted that it would. Sickness was not the cause of her tossing and turning. It was the fear of failure. Seeing the burned down warehouse made it sink in how real their mission was. People were depending on them to find a deal and provide relief. She knew this before they ever left Winterfell, but seeing the damage and meeting the families, made it so much more real. 

She was glad that they left White Harbor because the sooner they made it to King’s Landing, the quicker they could try and find some relief. 

And the fact that Jon was away from Wylla Manderly. Sansa did not like the way that the girl looked at her cousin. It was not mean or spiteful, which some people did when they learned that Jon was a ‘bastard’. No it was something else entirely and it made Sansa upset, almost angry even. Jon seemed obvious to it, but Sansa was not. 

Knock, knock, knock.

“Come in” Sansa called. 

As if her thoughts summoned him, in stepped Jon. Ghost ran over to his master, bumped into him, then promptly turned around and ran back at Lady to resume their play. Laughing at his wolf’s antics, Jon crossed the room to sit down beside Sansa. The bed sagged slightly with his addition. Both of them sat side by side, with their backs pressed against the wall. It continued to rock gently beneath them.

They both watched the direwolfs as they tired themselves out with their play. 

“So how was the last few rounds of your sparring? Did you land any hits on Uncle Brynden?” 

A snort can from her left. “No, but I was close a few times. I will say that sensing people slowly bob up and down is very weird. It will take some getting used to.” 

Sansa hummed in reply. His ability to sense others was something that she would ever fully understand. 

“But how are you doing? I don’t mean to sound rude, but you seem more tired than usual tonight.” 

Typical Jon , Sansa thought ruefully. 

“I don’t know, sleep has been eluding me.” 

While her cousin stayed silent, he looked at her expectantly. 

“I guess… well, I fear that we won’t succeed in finding a trade deal which will actually help the North. Seeing the damage caused by the fire made the reason for this whole trip so much more real. And now I dread returning home without any aid. I mean I know why we set out originally, but now, after seeing it all…” 

Reaching over Jon gently intertwined his fingers with her left hand. Placing their hands between them, he continued to watch the pups as their play started to slow down. For the moment the only noise to be heard was the slapping of the wolf’s paws and the waves against the ship. 

“Truthfully I have the same fears. What if we don’t close a deal? What if we find one but it takes such a long time that people start to go hungry? What if…” 

Sansa felt him turn to face her. She leaned into his shoulder. She often found that being in Jon’s presence soothes her. Even in this moment of vulnerability between them, she still found it so.

“But I still believe that at the end of the day we will succeed.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“Because it is something that we must do. We must find a way to help the people of the north. That and I am confident in those going on this journey.”

Turning she looked up into his eyes. His beautiful gray orbs.

“Brynden Tully is a well known and respected knight. And while he might not like the court or enjoy it, he still has experience with many of the people who reside there. And then there is you. One of the smartest people I have ever met. Even with all of the different lords and dignitaries we have housed over the years.” 

Jon leaned closer and pressed a kiss to her hairline. Pulling his head back he looked once again deep into her eyes. 

“You are the one I think is best to get this done. Sure, our mother has experience and would be very well suited for this. But I believe that with a little time, which we do have, you will flourish and succeed.” 

Tears burned at the edges of Sansa’s eyes. Pulling Jon’s hand that was intertwined with her own into her lap, she hugged it tightly as she dropped her head onto his shoulder once more. 

Sansa was not as confident in her own abilities as apparently Jon was, but it did feel really good that someone was so confident in her. She also always felt better with Jon next to her. Like maybe she could do what Jon thought she was capable of doing, as long as he was by her side. 

In a whisper she replied to his statement. 

“Thank you Jon. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“I am sure you would succeed without me. But I am here for you, in whatever way you need.” 

Shamelessly she turned and whipped a few stray tears away with his arm and shoulder. 

“For now I just need this moment of peace with my cousin.” 

Jon hummed in reply and slightly adjusted himself against the wall. But he did not remove her head from his shoulder. Maybe, just maybe everything will work out.

———-

The city looked grand as they pulled into the docks. The Red Keep stood tall and majestic over a city that was far larger than anything that Sansa had ever seen. Unfortunately the sight was already being spoiled by the smell, which had reached Sansa’s nose before she even stepped up onto the deck. Strange, I never thought this grand city would smell so bad.

Her Uncle came to stand next to her, followed shortly after by her cousin. The hour was growing late, dinner had probably already been taken by those in the city. They had made really good time, the winds seeming to favor them. They spent five nights out on the sea. And thankfully from the third night on, Sansa had slept much better. 

That line of thinking had her drifting back to that third night with Jon. The pair ended up falling asleep sitting in her bed with their backs against the wooden hull. Jon awoke first, a few hours before sunrise. Sansa woke up when he was gently laying her down on the bed. 

Sansa had begged him to stay. Saying how his calm presence soothed her. That she felt better with him by her side. Even in the dim light Sansa could clearly see the confliction that marred his features. In the end he wished her a good night and left for his own chambers. She had meant it when she said she wanted him to stay, but her honorable cousin decided it was best to leave.

Sansa watched as the ship workers quickly secured them to the dock. They went about their final preparations with great diligence as they had done for all their work on their voyage. Throughout the trip Sansa studied the crew as they worked, something about sailing fascinated her. It was all just so foreign. 

A plank was set up along the side of their ship and Captain Desmond approached them. 

“My Lady, we are all clear for you to disembark.”

“Thank you Captain. You and your crew did a wonderful job. I would like to extend my thanks.”

“Thank you my Lady. If you are ever in need just ask and I will be happy to help.”

Quickly Sansa glanced at her two companions before heading over to the plank. While the smell had not improved since the first moments on deck, in fact it got worse, the weather was nice. Warmer for sure than what she was used to, but a welcome change from what they had dealt with while at sea.

At the base of the ramp stood two men along with their guards. One was an older gentleman with broad shoulders and gray hair on both his head and chin. As Sansa got closer to him she could also make out the blue falcon of House Arryn. Which could only mean this was the Hand of the King, Jon Arryn.

The other individual was shorter than the Hand and had a small pointed beard. She could not see a coat of arms to identify him at the moment.

Sansa curtsy to the Hand of the King once she came to a stop directly in front of him.

“There is no need for that my child, you are the daughter of the man I thought of as my own. On behalf of his Grace Robert Baratheon, I, Jon Arryn, would like to welcome you to King’s Landing. The man next to me is Lord Petyr Baelish, Master of Coin. He grew up alongside your Mother and Uncle in Riverrun.”

“Thank you for your hospitality my Lord Hand, it is delightful to finally meet you. And the same goes for you Lord Baelish. My Mother and Uncle both have told me stories about your time spent with them  in their ancestral home.”

Sansa took a half step to the side before gesturing to her two companions.

“I am sure you both know my Uncle Ser Brynden Tully. He joined me on this journey to assist us in our endeavor and the same can be said for my brother Jon.”

Sansa looked back at the two men before her. Lord Arryn gave a small smile and nod to her Uncle and looked upon Jon with some interest. Lord Baelish might have looked at her Uncle, she was unsure, but his eyes quickly found her own. There was something there that she could not place. Something just beneath their surface…

“I welcome you both to our city here. Please, the hour grows late, so let me escort you to your chambers in the Red Keep where a small meal will be brought to each of you. King Robert made sure nothing but the best was prepared for the family of his late great best friend. Tomorrow we can meet to discuss what has brought you to our fine city.”

Chapter Text

Ch 16. Jon IV

Mar 301

Sansa, Ser Brynden and Jon were all breaking their fast on what was their second morning inside the Red Keep. The day before had been an eye opening, and taxing, experience for all of them. 

They started off their day having a slightly later breakfast, due to their late arrival the day before, but were quickly ushered in front of the King. But the strange thing was they were summoned to his solar and not before the Iron Throne and the entire court. King Robert had greeted them with a large smile with a glass of wine in hand. He commented on Sansa’s beauty and how he wished he could have made a betrothal between her and the crown prince Joffrey. But due to Sansa now being the future ruler of the North, that goal was no longer open to the king. He mentioned Arya being an option, but quickly moved on, which Jon was very thankful for. The thought of Sansa being wed to someone made Jon sick to his stomach. And he could not picture Arya being forced into a dress, paraded around, and wed in a sept. 

King Robert noted how the Blackfish still looked like he could take on a band of outlaws. The King also mentioned Jon himself, who reminded him of his “dear friend Ned.” That dissolved into him telling the three of them stories from his time in the Eyrie. 

The entire time that this was happening, the King dived deeper and deeper into his cups. Which Jon found alarming, as it was not quite noon. The longer the King talked and drank, the more upset Jon got.

This was the great warrior who had overthrown his family's dynasty. This large drunk man seemed like the furthest thing from a King. Jon never felt any attachment to his Father’s family. He was saddened to have never had the chance to meet his brother and sister. Though he never felt rage on their behalf because he was not able to associate with them. That whole side of his family was a foreign concept to Jon. Seeing this “King” and how he acted was the first time he actually did. Yes he overthrew a madman, but he allowed the deaths of his siblings and mother to go unpunished. And now he seems intent on pissing away his life.

After their meeting with King Robert, they retired to have some lunch. As soon as they finished, the three of them were greeted by a Lannister squire who asked them to follow him to the throne room. Sitting on the Iron Throne was The Hand Jon Arryn who was residing over the court. Which was another reminder of how unworthy Robert was to be king. 

They were introduced before the realm shortly after arriving. Brynden Tully had advised Sansa to just watch the court during their first day and that is what they did. His cousin only stated that they ventured south for trade opportunities when she was introduced. So after that they stood back and watched how everything played out. How all of the Southern Lords and Ladies, all dressed in their fine and colorful silks, asked the Hand for help with this and that. To Jon it all looked tedious and tiring. 

Once the Hand called for the end of court, their small group returned to their rooms, ate together and reviewed their plans. But before they retired for the night, Ser Brynden received a message from a servant. The note said that Lord Baelish wished to meet with them in the morning, which is why the three of them were sitting in the common area that was connected to each of their rooms.

Water and wine both sat in their respective containers on the small table between the circle of chairs that had been set up. Spare glasses were also present. The room was nicely furnished with amenities that one would expect inside the Red Keep. Jory had ordered a few of the other guards to erect two Stark banners to stand on either side of the main entrance door. A small piece of home.

Sansa was positioned to Jon’s right with the Blackfish on her other side. The remaining chair was on Jon’s left, waiting for their visitor to come and occupy it.

The Knight shifted some in his chair, drawing eyes to him, before he addressing Sansa and Jon. “I know Catelyn told you both that Baelish can help us find potential trades and she might very well be right. He is the master of coin which carries a lot of influence and power. But I am not as confident as she is when it comes to Petyr Baelish.”

Brynden stopped for a moment, worked his jaw some before speaking once again. Both Sansa and Jon patiently wait for him to continue.

“As you both probably know, Petyr challenged your Uncle Brandon for the right to marry Cat. It was a foolish decision but the boy always was… infatuated with Catelyn. She never felt the same and I think she was blind to his feelings. Petyr was a good child and I always helped him when he came to me, but I think he… always had… issues revolving around both Cat and Lysa.”

The longer Brynden talked the more and more uncomfortable he seemed to get. Which in turn made Jon uncomfortable. This was a side of the Knight that he had never seen. He shared a look with his cousin, who seemed to be feeling the same thing.

“I don’t know if I should even say this, if it is even relevant. It was a long time ago now and the man is on the small council.” A sigh slipped from his lips. “I don’t know what happened, Hoster never told me, and I did not want to ask Lysa, but something happened between Lysa and Petyr. Something bad. Like I said it was a long time ago and it happened between children. But I always figured whatever happened was because Baelish really wanted to be with your mother, which led to him settling for Lysa. I just felt the need to say this because I don’t want that desire to-”

Knock knock

Three heads whipped over at once to face the door. Jory’s voice came from the other side announcing the arrival of their guest. Clearing her throat, Sansa bid to let the man in.

In walked the master of coin. Jon focused his sense on the smaller man. He walked with what Jon would describe as a great deal of confidence, and maybe some arrogance. Once he walked a little closer, Jon could see that the man was as well dressed as he had been when greeting them upon their arrival. A smile plastered on his face with his small beard pointing down beneath.

Sansa stood up and addressed the man “Welcome Lord Baelish, please have a seat. Would you like any water or wine?”

“Thank you, my lady. Wine sounds lovely.”

Gracefully Sansa poured a glass for the lord. The man’s smile never wavered. Once the glass was handed to him, Baelish took a drink before setting it down on the table. 

“It is good to see all of you. How do you like Kings Landing so far?” 

“The Red Keep seems magnificent, but the only time we have had to see the city itself was on our trip from the dock to the castle.” 

“We plan on going out into the city this afternoon.” Added Brynden.

“Well I hope you enjoy our time out there. If you ever want a guide, I would be more than willing. When was the last time you were in the city Ser Brynden?”

“It has been a while.”

“I am sure you will manage just fine, but if you have a need for me, please let me know.” 

The lord took another drink as he eyed the three of them. His eyes stopped on Jon.

“You certainly have the Stark look Jon Snow. Did a longing for adventure bring you south along with your sister?”

“I came south to lend my help to Sansa in any way that I can and to protect her if needed.” 

While the Lord had been nice to them, the info provided by Ser Brynden put Jon on edge. He wanted the man to know to not try anything with Sansa. The thought of him doing so made his stomach curl. But Jon tried his best to keep his voice even.

“How very valiant of you. We all know you are willing to lay down your life for your sisters and what it cost you. I am glad you are not letting your limitations stop you, Jon Snow.”

“You know what happened with Jon and my nieces?”

“Of course Ser Brynden, it is not everyday that a future ruler of one of our kingdoms is attacked. Yes it was quite the topic in the small counsel after the news reached us. King Robert loved the story of how Ned’s natural son fought off attackers at such a young age. Others feared what this might mean for the other highborns of the realm. But that is old news now.”

Petyr Baelish once again studied his audience. Then settled his gaze on Sansa. I hate how his eyes are always returning to her.

“I figured we should discuss the news that your mother wrote to me about. She asked if I could help you Lady Sansa in your endeavor to find suitable trade deals to either gain the north more food or coin to purchase the much needed food.”

Baelish paused, seeming to invite Sansa into the conversation.

“Yes we are looking for deals to help with that. The three of us came up with the idea to view the court for a few days to see if any relevant information came our way. But any help in finding suitable trade partners would be much appreciated.”

“That sounds like a solid plan. That line of thinking would do you well. You must be careful though, if word gets out that you are in desperate need of aid, well, it will give others more power in the negotiations. You can go about your plan, but if you are willing I can also start to make a list of people who might be suitable partners for a trade deal. You would just have to let me know what goods you are willing to trade with these southern lords.”

Jon watched as his cousin shifted in her seat. Sansa shifted her eyes first to her uncle and then to Jon himself. She held her gaze on him. Jon could only guess at what she was debating. Can they trust this man to help them, should they tell him what they are working with. It was a question that Jon did not know the answer to. He shifted his eyebrows up and widened his eyes in a way that he hoped showed Sansa that he did not hold the answer to her question.

“Certainly Lord Baelish. We have a few exports that could work for us. One would be wool, while I know it is not nearly as cold down here in the south, it might still be useful to some. Another is fish, from my understanding there are different types of fish that gather along our northeastern coast that other parts of Westeros do not have. The winter rose might attract some attention to help sweeten a deal, or at least we hope. The last export would be timber. This is likely to be our best one, especially Ironwood due to its color and the fact that it is of better quality to most of the other types of wood that can be found in the seven kingdoms.”

Petyr Baelish sat back in his seat and stroked his pointed beard. His eyes momentarily gazed upon the far wall. Then shifted back down to Sansa, studying her.

“I think I can put together a good list of potential Lords that would like to have some of the goods that you are offering.”

“Is there something that you would like in exchange for your help, my Lord?”

“No, no my good Lady. I do not require anything from you. I am doing this simply because Caitlyn asked it of me. She is important to me and I just want to make sure her and her family are taken care of.”

Jon felt himself tense up. If what Brynden talked about was true, then Jon feared that Baelish was secretly just trying to curry favor. And what if he accomplished that…

“Well I thank you for your help Lord Baelish” Sansa said while standing from her chair. The Lord stood and gave a slight bow.

“I thank you for your trust. I promise to gather a suitable list of potential trade partners. And please if you have any other need, just reach out and I will be there.”

The trio watched as the man exited the room. A silence fell over the group. Everyone seemed to be processing the conversation that had just played out before them. Jon tapped his right hand on the arm rest, toying with the thought of if they should have trusted Baelish or not.

“Uncle, do you think I did the right thing by telling Lord Baelish about what we have to offer?”

“I can’t say for sure. Your Mother certainly trusts him and with him being on the small counsel, he could prove to be a powerful ally. At least in theory.”

“I figured he would already know the goods we have to offer, so I decided to take the leap and just tell him outright. Hopefully he is more willing to help us if we appear to be open and willing to trust in him.”

Jon could only nod and voice his support behind her idea. It made sense, he just hoped Baelish would actually come through for them. Sansa broke him out of his thoughts once more.

“Besides, we can move forward with our plan and only use Baelish’s list to cross reference the list that we will be putting together ourselves.”

“That is a wonderful idea, niece. I find that taking a walk around the castle helps me when my mind is heavy with thoughts. Why don’t we continue to explore this grand castle before we take our midday meal.”

—------------------------------------------

“Goodnight Sansa”

“Goodnight Jon.”

Jon had his hand on his door, but was frozen in place. His eyes seemed unable to leave the gaze he held with his cousin. The room was quiet, only faintly could one hear the wind from outside. The sun had set a while ago and the moon shone through the open balcony doors, casting a heavenly glow in their small community room. A glow that highlighted Sansa who stood just at the edge of Jon’s eyesight.

Sansa always looks lovely and beautiful, but now…

Physically shaking himself, Jon slipped inside his room and closed the door with his back pressed up against it. It was improper for him to be staring at his cousin in such a way for so long. In the moment he forgot that it takes two people to have a staring contest like the one that was just had.

Jon took a deep breath, in and out. Pushing off the door he began to get ready for bed.

The breeze blowing in from the outside only provided a small comfort to Jon. Kicking Ghost off the bed would provide even more relief from the heat, but he could not do that to his companion who had already placed his claim. In all honesty Jon was glad that they did not have to lock up the two direwolves in the kennels. Brynden guessed that it was a combination of their status of their house and the fact that the wolves still were the same size as a dog.

There was something else that would have brought Jon comfort, but he was forced to leave it hidden back in Winterfell. His dragon egg. Over time Jon began to feel an attachment towards the egg. He never shared that information with anyone. He was fearful of what those closest would think if a Targaryen said they felt a pull towards a dragon egg. Still, he regretted not being able to bring it with him. Unfortunately the risks were just too high.

Pulling the covers back, at least those that were not trapped by ghost, Jon slipped into his bed. Just like the last few nights, the moment his head hit the pillow his mind drifted back to the night on the ship. The one where he did not fall asleep on a bed, but against a wall. With Sansa’s head on his shoulder. 

Jon could not keep the smile off his face when he thought of those first moments after he awoke. Sansa being so close to him. The smell of her hair. How peaceful she looked in the dim light. The warmth he felt inside at seeing her leaning on him.

I won’t let any harm come to her. They won’t have the chance.

Petyr Baelish concerned him, but Jon knew there would be others probably worse than the master of coin. So many others would try and manipulate or hurt his cousin and he could not bear the thought. He was already hating the looks some of the lords were sending Sansa’s way when she was not looking. Oh how he hated it.

I don’t think I could live with myself if something happened to Sansa. Old gods, help me protect Sansa with everything that I have. I can not let anything happen to her.

Eventually sleep finds its way to Jon, but the feelings of uncertainty and unease remain even in his dreams.

Chapter Text

Ch 17. Sansa V

Apr 301

Sansa was barely able to keep her laughter at bay. She felt her lips waver as she looked back at a smirking Jon.

“You can not be serious” Sansa said with as much force as was available to her.

“I am! Ser Harwyn tripped into Lady Rykker, who in turn fell face first into the mud next to the sparring yard.” Jon was barely able to finish before being consumed by laughter. The combination of his laughter and the absurdity of the situation caused Sansa to lose it as well.

“Oh you should- you should have seen his reaction. Eyes blown wide and, and in his panic he ended up running off when the Lady looked for help.” Sansa was only just able to make it out, Jon’s laughter nearly making him unintelligible. Not that she minded, she enjoyed his laugh, she wished he did it more often.

After the pair calmed down, a silence fell between them. Faintly seagulls could be heard from their position on their balcony. Once Jon and Sansa had finished their midday meal, they went out to get fresh air. The direwolves laid between their chairs in a tight ball of fur. Sansa could not help but smile at the sight of the two of them tangled together.

“Are you ready for our meeting with Lord Oakheart?” 

Sansa considered her cousin’s question for a moment, going over a mental checklist. They had done their work in scouting out this Lord. Her Uncle talked to old friends he said to have made on the battlefield. Jon spent extra time hanging around the training grounds. Mainly those knights hailing from the Reach to try and overhear their conversations. Sansa herself forced herself to engage with many of the different ladies of the court who might have info about their target. 

“I think I am as ready as I can be. How do you feel about it?”

“I agree with you. Out of all our prospects, this one seems the best.” 

Over the time spent at court, they had narrowed their focus onto five houses. Several days ago, the three of them had settled on House Oakheart. The Sunset Sea was not far from their seat of power and they had the Ocean Road running alongside it. Through the grapevine they found out that they were looking to expand upon the small village that had the Ocean Road running through it. Which meant they needed wood to build their new buildings. The Lord himself seemed to like a little bit of flair, so the hope was he would like the different and unique Ironwood. 

“I for one am glad that Oakheart was not on Petyr Baelish’s list” stated Jon with a slight frown. He looks so adorable with that pout on his lips thought Sansa. She agreed with the idea that it was a good thing they were not relying on the master of coin. But she wanted to hear Jon’s reasoning for thinking so, and maybe to tease him some in the hope to see him pout more.

“And why are you so happy about that?”

Instead of looking at her, Jon’s gaze flicked out towards the city below. His pout turning into a full frown.

“The idea of being in his debt is not something that I like. He is already trying to integrate himself with how often he seeks you out after court or even when we walk in the gardens.”

“Some would say it is a good thing that the master of coin wants to lend his help to those in need.”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.” Jon stated firmly.

Sansa pulled back in her chair. The teasing tone leaves her voice.

“You don’t like the way he looks at me? How does he look at me?”

“Sometimes it is as if you are some puzzle that he is trying to figure out. Other times like you are a prize to be won. And then there are times where his eyes hold something else, something darker.”

A chill went up her spine. Sansa had not noticed this. She had seen how he often looks at her, his eyes either calculating or holding a superficial softness to them, or so she thought. When she said as much to Jon, he paused slightly before answering.

“He does not do it when you are looking. Or even when Ser Brynden is looking. But just like how he often tracks you, I do the same to him, I won’t allow him to harm you in any way. I won’t let him or the other lords do anything to you.”

Her cousin’s protectiveness brought a warmth to her chest. “I don’t trust him either.”

Jon still stared out into the city beyond them, but he did nod at her statement. Sansa spoke up again in an attempt to change subjects. 

“I still worry about our meeting. What if we fail with-” A door closing in their common room pulled their attention away. A moment later out walked Uncle Brynden.

“It is time to go meet with Lord Oakheart, are you ready?”

All of a sudden Sansa felt her nerves start to rise up. The first step at helping her homeland was now upon them. The thought of failure scared her. 

She spared a look at her cousin. Jon gave her a small smile and a nod.

“Yes, let us go meet with the Lord.”

—------------------------------------------

Sansa walked out of the Lord’s solar with her head held high, eyes straight ahead and kept a dignified pace. Thankfully the hall was void of people. The moment she heard the door close behind her Uncle all of that changed. She quickened her steps, desperate to put distance between the Lord, her guards, her family… her failure.

“Sansa, wait up.” She ignored her cousin.

How could she be so stupid, so blind. How did she overlook the benefit House Oakheart would get from buying wood from Houses in the Reach and Westerlands. The increase of trade between them on the very road that runs right through his lands! Of course he did not say this outright or even a hint of that until the very end.

“Sansa, please.”

From the start Garth Oakheart’s offers were too high. Sansa might not know everything about lumber and its transfer and shipping. But she knew he was trying to play them for fools. She told him the superior type of wood that they have and the unique coloring, which could be a benefit to him. It barely swayed the lord at all. That was the moment when her fears of failure started to feel like a reality. Then she started to spiral. She tripped over her words, took too long to answer and found herself unable to hold the Lord’s gaze for more than a few seconds. I am so stupid!

Jon caught up and walked beside her. Sansa tried to quicken her pace even more, but it proved ineffective. “Sansa, it will be ok. This is not the only opportunity that we will have. Please talk to me.”

They turned the corner and walked down the hallway that housed their rooms. Sansa swiped at her eyes. I am a naive failure.

“Sansa…”

She tried to project her lady of the court voice into her response, trying to push away her sadness. “I am tired and need to lay down.”  Her attempt was a failure, just like our meeting.

She pushed open their door and made a beeline straight for her room. As quick as her fumbling hands would allow, she opened her door. She kept it open to allow Lady access, but before she could close it, Ghost slipped in after her. Sansa did not have the energy to kick him out, or the heart.

Once she reached her bed she collapsed on top of it. She did not take down her hair or remove her dress. Sansa let the tears flow freely. Crying until sleep found her.

—------------------------------------------

Lazily Sansa took down her braids she had put up for court. Today was the first day she had attended since the disaster of a negotiation meeting, which was three days ago. She had shown up late to court and left before the Hand had called it a day. Jon had stood close by to her throughout the day, and Sansa was thankful that he did not try to push her to talk. She knew she had messed up and there was nothing he could do to convince her otherwise.

Both Jon and her Uncle had tried to talk to her or even just bring her out of her room, but other than coming out to eat, Sansa had stayed in her quarters. But when Sansa woke up this morning she knew that she needed to push past her self pity. Though she admitted that knowing something needed to happen does not always make it any easier to act on.

Now with a simple braid, Sansa sat down on her bed next to Lady. As always the simple act of running her hand through her fur brought a sense of calm to Sansa. She wished that Lady could accompany her to court.

Knock Knock Knock 

“Sansa, can I come in?”

This is the first time either of them asked to actually come into her room. Normally they just knocked, and when she did not answer, just let her be. Or one of them would just simply tell her that their meal was ready. She contemplated sending Jon away for a second, but decided against it. She called for him to enter.

Slowly her cousin stepped into the room, leaving the door open when he did so. Ghost shot past him and jumped onto the bed next to where Lady was.

“I was hoping to take you out for a walk, the weather is nice today.”

Automatically she looked out her window and contemplated his offer.

“I make a solemn promise that you will enjoy yourself.”

She fought the smile that wanted to surface. “Fine, give me a few minutes to get ready.”

With a smile and bow, Jon backed out of her room, leaving Ghost with her own direwolf. Quickly Sansa changed out of her lavish courtly dress into a more simple and practical one. This one was a deep blue dress with dark gray trim. It was still fit for her station, but would be more comfortable for their walk. Standing before her mirror she swiftly made last second adjustments to her hair before stepping out into the common area. 

Jon quickly stepped up to her and held out his arm. Sansa was more than happy to tuck her hand into the inside crook of his elbow. Her uncle walked over and addressed them both.

“Are you both ready to leave?”

“Are you joining us on our walk in the gardens Uncle?”

“Did Jon not tell you where we are going?”

Puzzled, she looked over at her cousin. A smirk greeted her along with his twinkling eyes. 

“No he did not.”

“Well I guess you will find out then.”

Out in the hallway stood three guards who fell into position behind them as they walked the halls. Jory being at the head of the trio. On either side of the Starks walked their direwolves.

Jon guided her down the various hallways that flowed in the Red Keep. She made sure to smile, nod and offer a kind greeting to the Lords and Ladies that they passed along their way. Some of them seemed to only have eyes for their wolves. Thankfully none of them sent dirty looks towards her cousin. Unfortunately during their time in King’s Landing, some of the highborn did. Whenever that did happen, it always without fail made Sansa bristle. On a few of those occasions, Jon had to stop her from giving those individuals a piece of her mind. He always would say that his perceived birth no longer bothered him, but Sansa knew the truth. He was seen as a bastard for eleven years, and he still carried that weight with him.

Jon had not been lying about the weather, the air outside was a nice change for Sansa. It was a couple hours past midday and the cool breeze coming from the sea made it enjoyable. Their group made their way outside the castle walls and into the city proper.

Down the streets they walked, seeming to be heading in the direction of the harbor. Sansa enjoyed passing the time by actually talking to her family for the first time in a few days. Thankfully all conversations about her failure were left behind. The current street widened as they came to Fishmonger Square. It was at this point her uncle veered off and went into a tavern to meet up with other knights that he knew. Before he left he made them both promise to be careful and be back before nightfall. Jory and the other two guards stayed with them as Jon led her into the square.

The square was bustling with people who went about their business. Various stalls had been set up around the edges of it. Sansa had briefly gone through the Fishmonger Square on horseback when they took their tour of the city. Now she could truly appreciate the square and all it had to offer. There was a larger group of people congregating near the center of it, but Jon steered her towards a cart positioned on the perimeter of the square. 

“I asked a few of the knights and squires about the various foods that could be found in the city and many of them pointed me towards this.”

Sansa glanced at the cart they now stood in front of. The wood was painted red and behind it stood a middle aged man with dark hair. Glancing down at his product Sansa saw the food that was being sold.

“Honey coated pears?”

“Yes, apparently they are amazing. We will take two please.”

Jon pulled out the coins needed to pay the vendor. They received their treats on a stick. Sansa had eaten pears before, but it had been a long time. They are not native to the north, but on a few occasions the Manderly’s sent some to Winterfell for a feast. After giving the fruit a once over, Sansa took a bite.

She could not stop the satisfied hum that left her. With a smile she glanced over at Jon to see him having a matching expression. They stared at each other for a beat before diving back in for more. Jon seemed to inhale his, while Sansa made sure to savor her food and eat with the dignity that is required of a lady. Jon waited for her to finish before engaging in conversation.

“So what do you think? They might be better than lemon cakes.”

“I think you are going a bridge too far with that, but they are extremely delicious. Thank you.”

When he inquired if she would like another one, Sansa could not turn him down. He also asked their trio of guards, but they turned down the offer. Jon went back to the vendor and asked for three more. Jon handed her one before offering each of their wolves one of their own. They seemed to love it even more than Sansa did.

“Jon, why did you do that? Let me pay you back, you bought me two and you got Lady one.”

“Sorry Sansa, but I won’t accept any payment. We are all celebrating together so this is all on me.”

“Celebrating? What are we celebrating?”

Her cousin just smirked and offered his arm out for her.

“Fine, don't tell me.” She was hoping that he would end up doing just that. He did not, instead he led her over to where the large crowd of people had gathered in the center of the square. Jon pulled her over around the edge of it until they had a clear line of sight of what was taking place.

There were three men performing an entertainment act. From the way they were dressed it was apparent that they hailed from across the sea. Each of the men took turns tossing items into the air and juggling them. Sansa quickly became engrossed with their act. They juggled all sorts of items. Colorful balls, different fruits, plates, vases and even knives. 

Sansa felt herself get caught up with the crowd, oohing and aahing along with them. For their final act they stacked the smallest member of their trio on top of the shoulders of the other two. Then they started to toss knives up at him for him to juggle. Sansa reached out and squeezed Jon’s hand for she feared what might happen if they messed up. Once their performance was complete she cheered with everyone else and gave them praise. Jon dropped a few silver coins in their collection bin.

At this point Sansa thought their trip might be finished, but she was proven wrong. Jon guided them out of the Square and up the Street of Steel, which Sansa found odd.

“Did you mistake me for Arya, because if you did then that would make sense why we are going down this street.”

“I could never mistake you for Arya, Sansa” She turned to look at him because she detected something different in his town. His eyes were locked on to her own, a gentle smile played at his lips. Sansa felt herself grow warm under his gaze. 

Their staring was broken up when Sansa tripped over a loose piece of stone. Luckily Jon kept her from falling when his strong hand gripped her other arm. While her face might have been slightly red before, now it was flushed red from embarrassment. Sansa risked a glance back up at her cousin only to find that he himself looked to be embarrassed.

“I do… require your help though, I know the name of the shop I need to go to, but I can’t…”

He can’t read the signs from a distance, Sansa quickly realized. She hated that he felt inadequate over that. She said his name and luckily he was not too ashamed to look at her. 

“You do so much more for me Jon. Let me ease this issue from your shoulders, let me help you, like you always help me.”

The crooked smile from Jon was quickly hidden from her as he turned away. Sansa felt her heart glow at the look that she had caused him to make, the emotions that she had invoked. Hoping that those emotions were the same as her own. Ones that were getting harder and harder to ignore. He told her the name of the shop and fortunately they came upon it shortly thereafter. They entered the shop along with their direwolves and Jory, the other two guards stayed outside. Sansa was thankful that each of them never hovered too close to Jon and herself as they walked the street.

The shop was empty and Sansa took the time to look around. It was not a very large space and the center was left open for people to stand. On each wall hung different items for people to view, with a small half wall between the potential customers and the actual products. Interestingly enough, there was more than just snort swords and knives inside the shop. A few dishes stood out to her, along with lockets and even a few-

“Sorry for the wait, how can I help you?” questioned an older gentleman who came from a backroom.

Jon stated his name and that he was here to pick up an order that he had placed on his behalf. The man returned to the room he had come from and reappeared a moment later with a small box that he could hold in one hand. Jon handed over the second half of the payment and quickly led her back outside.

She quickly started pestering him about the item that he had commissioned and paid for. Unfortunately, once again, he remained mum on the subject. Sansa liked how stubborn Jon could be, but at this point in time she thought that it had lost its luster.

The day was growing late so they headed back towards the Red Keep. Once she got over her frustration with her secretive cousin, Sansa was able to enjoy the colors that stained the sunsetting sky. They did stop and each get another pear. It was starting to get late and their snacking on the honey fruit would serve as their dinner for the day.

It was once they stepped back into their quarters that Jon said he would reveal the secret item. Placing it on their dining table, he slowly took off the lid, Sansa glued to his side watching it all.

It seemed that a chain was what occupied the box. Jon reached down and pulled it out. As the chain ascended higher and higher, another part of it was received. A small pendant was attached to it. A necklace. 

“I had the shop owner make this for your birthday. I know we are still three days away, but I figured now was as good a time as any to give my present to you.” Gently the pendant was placed in her cupped hands. It was a wolf that was in mid-running stride. On the head of the running wolf, where the eye would be, was a small yellow/gold gem. A small gasp escaped her.

Pulling the necklace up, Sansa stared at the gem and marveled at how the light reflected off of it. She let it slowly spin around as she admired the craftsmanship. It was then that Sansa noticed that something was on the back, something written. Lady

Tears pooled in her eyes as strong emotions filled her chest. The lovely gift is only part of the reason that she was reacting this way. The main cause being the feelings that she felt towards the young man that had given her this gift. The thought and care that went into this present. Not just this gift, but the whole trip into King’s Landing. A trip that he had mapped out just for her.

“I hope you like it. I modeled it after Lady. I know I got you a necklace with a wolf head before, but with us traveling and being at court… If you don’t like it than it is not a problem, I can take it back down and-”

Sansa tucked the necklace back into its box, and then flung herself at Jon. Her cousin caught her in his strong arms. Oh how I enjoy the feeling of them encircling me. Pulling back, and before she could let any lingerie doubt creep in, she placed her lips on his left cheek and kissed him.

Sansa let her lips linger there, unable to pull away as quickly as she had planned to do. Her body seemed to betray her in that. Briefly she wondered what a kiss on his lips would have been like. But she did pull back in the end and softly whispered “Thank you so much cousin, for the gift and the trip into the city. It was lovely.”  

When she fully pulled away, Jon had a dopey grin that overtook his facial features. Jon hardly reacted when she disentangled herself from him. Only his eyes seemed to be working as he tracked her movements. With the box in her hand she walked backwards towards her door and felt for the handle.

“Goodnight Jon.” 

Gradually she walked back into her room, waiting for him to respond. But his goofy smile and wide eyes were the only response she got. Gently she closed the door. Only once the door clicked close did she realize that her cheeks were starting to hurt, but she found herself unable to drop her smile. The worries she had to start the day were completely forgotten. And for a moment she let thoughts linger on what she was truly feeling for her cousin. Not caring about anything other than him.

Chapter Text

Ch 18. Arya I

Apr 301

From the courtyard Arya peered out the open gate. The smell of rain accompanied the gentle breeze that shifted Arya’s hair about her face. Internally Arya fought to keep her emotions in check and to not let the sadness show. Beside her stood her Mother, both of them watching the retreating form of her Uncle Benjen as he rode away to do his recruiting for the Night’s Watch. Arya knew that her Mother shared in her sorrow, but it did not ease the emotions of watching another member of the pack head south.

“Come along Arya, there are a few ravens that we need to see to before we start our day.”

Mutely she nodded and followed her Lady mother inside. It was still early in the morning and the servants and workers were just starting their work for the day. Arya was thankful that she was able to have a small breakfast with her family before Benjen had to leave.

Once they reached Catelyn’s solar, Arya took her normal seat in the chair opposite of her Mother. Maester Luwin had met them outside the room, now stood at the edge of the desk, letters already in hand. The somber mood from the courtyard had followed them into the solar.

While her Mother read over the first message, Arya found her mind start to drift while waiting her turn. Benjen was heading south and at some point would end up in King’s Landing. The city already had her sister, cousin and Uncle Brynden. Which basically meant that was where her entire family was. Sure she had other relatives in Riverrun, and even more in King’s Landing, but she did not know them. So to her it was like they almost did not count. Of course she would never tell her mother that. One, it would hurt her mother’s feelings to say that about her Tully family and two, she knew that they were technically still family. So if something bad happens to one person the others would be obligated to step in and help. Which is what happens when wars are fought. Which were by far the most interesting things to read about in Maester Luwin's history books.

Arya wished she could have known her father and brothers. If they had lived maybe she would not have felt so lonely and bored inside her own home over the last few months. But they were not here and she could even recall a single memory of them. She wished she had a bigger family. At least governess Josey was still here, she was close to being like family.

“Sansa wrote to us both, thanking us for her name day gifts." With a sigh, she passed the letter over to Arya.  "I still wished I had more time to actually make the dress I had planned for her.” 

The trip to King’s Landing had caused a small issue when it came to Sansa’s name day, which had just passed. Both Arya and her mother were forced to change their plans. Arya tasked Jory to purchase gloves for her sister once he reached King’s Landing. She demanded white and gray gloves for Sansa and thankfully Jory had found some. Her Mother, to her regret, was forced to just give her daughter money with the intent of purchasing a dressing of her choosing. She did not trust one of the men to pick one out for her.

Arya skimmed the message before placing it on the edge of the desk.

“This one is from Jon. He is asking for us to send down some Ironwood on the next possible ship. He wants to be able to show the lords the wood they would be working with the next time they try to make a deal. He also asks for some wool and a few winter roses.”

“That is a great idea my Lady, I wished we would have thought of that before they left.”

“I agree Luwin, it might have helped with the first meeting they had. Or maybe it would not have made a difference at all, judging by the raven my Uncle sent.”

The Lady of Winterfell let out another sigh before passing the note over to Arya. Again she skimmed the message, faster than the first. Arya was beginning to tire of these meetings she was forced to attend with her Mother. She really did try her best to pay attention and even provide input, but it was just so boring . 

“Arya, why don’t you craft the letter that will be sent to Lord Manderly, requesting him to send some Ironwood, wool and winter roses on his next ship heading south.”

She groaned to express her displeasure at the idea. She was not even that good at writing, not like Sansa. Arya shifted her gaze back towards her Mother with the intent of arguing with her, but was beaten to the punch.

“You will write that letter Arya, because you are a Stark of Winterfell who is calling upon their bannermen to help in aiding the entire North. And you will take the time to write neatly. Lady Josey can help you in your endeavor. Then once it is complete you can bring it to Maester Luwin. Am I understood?”

Arya replied with exasperation “Yes Mother.” Arya crossed her arms and stared down at the wooden front of the desk before her. She could almost feel Luwin trying not to smile or laugh at the exchange.

“Good. Once we are done with the other letters you can go find the governess. Then once the raven leaves to White Harbor, I will allow you to do your training in the yard.”

Dropping her arms, Arya looked up to see the small smile on her Mother’s face. With determination, Arya nodded in agreement.

—------------------------------------------

“Slow down Arya, there is no need to be in such a rush.” Stated Josey

“Ah, yes there is. The sooner we get to Luwin, the sooner he can send out the raven, the sooner I can go practice my training.”

“Humor me then, walk by my side. We will still get your raven sent out with plenty of time for you to practice your sword play.”

Why do adults always insist on this sort of thing? Arya relented and slowed her pace to match the lady’s. Nymeria slowed down some, but decided to remain in the front. Her wolf had been incredibly sad when her two litter mates left Winterfell. But at least they still had each other and after a few days Nymeria seemed to return to her normal playful ways.

They passed a few soldiers who were changing out the guard rotation. Arya could not help but glance at the steel they carried on their hip. Wishing that someday she will be allowed to brandish her own.

“Do you know why your Mother wants you by her side as she deals with the affairs of the North?”

“Because I am a Stark and someday will be a lady of a castle.” She did not try and hide her disdain when she said the word ‘lady.’ 

“That is part of it, yes, but she wants you to be prepared for anything that might come your way. Look at your parents before you. For Father was a second son, not expected to rule the entire North. Yet he ended up doing just that. Your Mother never thought she would have to do the same thing. There has been much tragedy for House Stark over the last few decades. For all of the North really.” Arya could detect the hint of sorrow in the governess’ voice.

She understood the tragedy that had happened around her. It was the reason that her family was so small. Tragedy was the cause for Jon, Sansa and her Uncle to head south. She hated all that had occurred. She wished it was a straw dummy that she could beat with her sword until her arms grew tired.

“So while your Lady Mother does not have a wish for any more catastrophes to happen, she does want to arm you with the knowledge on how to deal with it. Besides, at the moment you are The Stark of Winterfell. That is not something to take lightly.”

Arya Stark glanced at the rolled up message in her right hand. She hated the thought of anything else happening to the people she loved. She also hated the idea of having to run a castle. But the governess was making since. Maybe she could learn some things outside of how to wield a sword or shoot an arrow. Jon had told her that the thought of not being able to help his family was the reason he pushed himself so hard. Maybe she should copy him. But the practice in the training yard would still be the best and most fun thing.

“I will try to not get so bored or distracted the next time I am with my Mother in her solar.”

“I think she would greatly appreciate that Lady Stark.” 

Arya had to grind her teeth, hard, to not fall for the bait. The governess knew how she felt about that title. Josey released a small chuckle as she knocked on Luwin's door. 

—------------------------------------------

Deep breath in, then out, release.

Thunk

Without taking her eyes off her target, Arya reached down and plucked another arrow up from the ground. Silently she nocked her next arrow and continued with her rhythm.

In, out, release.

Thunk

She took a little satisfaction from her sword skills on this day. Rodrik had been impressed with her improvement and allowed her to try against Theon. She smirked thinking about the hit she landed, it is likely already bruising. In the end she did fall on her ass, but that was only because she had not been fast enough to dodge and was forced to actually block his attack. Which she did, but fell back from the force of his swing. Someday she would actually best him.

In, out, release.

Thunk

She was definitely not currently only shooting arrows after hours because she was mad. Because if that was the case her Lady Mother would be upset. Granted she would probably be upset for how Arya had left their last conversation, but still. Luckily for Arya, her Mother was busy. Busy dealing with the stupid savage wildlings and the death they brought with them to this side of the wall.

In, out, release.

Thunk

They raided the lands north of Last Hearth. And now her Mother was writing to Lord Greatjon Umber. Asking about what he found from the attack, if he had an idea about where they were heading and if he needed any aid. Even those inside the walls of her own home were affected by their raid. Ronnel, one of their guards, had a sister who lived on one of the farms that was attacked. She was married and expecting her first child. Ronnel was inconsolable upon hearing the news. He had to be dragged back to his room, wailing the entire way.

In, out release.

Thunk

She liked Ronnel, he was one of her favorite guards. He would sometimes teach her things about how he wields his sword. He did not seem to mind when Arya asked him questions or when she talked his ear off about fighting. And now he was in pain, suffering for something he and his family did not deserve. She hated that she could not do something about it. But that was not the only news they had received today.

In, out, release.

Thunk

Lord Hornwood sent a raven. With it came his words about how he thinks it would be good for his son Daryn to spend some time in Winterfell. He would be too old to be a ward, but the Lord said it was so he could spend some valuable time learning how the North was run. And spend some time getting to know the members of House Stark. Which meant her because everyone else was gone.

In, out, release.

Thunk

Could they not understand that she did not want to be a lady? Was that so hard? She wanted to hunt, to fight. Fighting wildlings sounded nice right about now. But all of these stupid Lords and their stupid power hungry plans. They are just vultures, wanting to pick them apart. All they cared about was having her marry their stupid heir.

In, release 

Shit

Arya could almost hear Jon in her ear. The angry or impatient wolf is prone to being an unsuccessful hunter. Don’t be like those wolves. Be calm and stay focused. Exhaling she reached for another arrow.

In, out release.

Thunk

“Arya, your mother asks for your presence.”

Shit . She might have stormed off after reading that letter from that stupid lord. Slowly she lowered the bow and turned to Ser Rodrik. While he was outwardly calm, Arya sensed something just beneath the surface, or so she thought.

“Did my mother say why she wants to see me?” Arya asks tepidly.

“She did not, but it is best that we not keep her waiting.”

She plucked the last few arrows from the ground and walked over to put them back in place, along with the bow. Arya and the knight walked in silence as they ascended the castle. Arya rubbed her thumb over her fingers, betraying her nervousness. In her mind Arya tried to come up with the words that could best placate her mother, but was struggling to do so. All too soon Rodrik Cassel was knocking and being told to open the door to the solar. Arya stepped in.

Catelyn Stark was behind her desk and tracked her daughter’s movements as she took her seat. The silence was deafening and Arya quickly decided to break it, forgetting all attempts at trying to ease into the topic at hand.

“Look, I am sorry about running off, but I won’t marry that stupid Hornwood.”

“That is not why I called you here, but we will be talking about that and your attitude later.”

Her mother paused, seeming to try and find the right words.

“What is the reason you called me here?”

“I received a letter from King’s Landing.”

“Is it from Jon? Or even Sansa?” Arya asked excitedly.

“No. The Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, is dead.”

Chapter Text

Ch 19 Jon V

May 301

Silently Jon reached out and sensed the expanse that was the inner chamber of the Great Sept of Baelor. People in small groups milled about, most of them gravitating towards the center. Shadows seemed to cling to everything and everyone inside the grand structure, he noticed that when they had done their walk around. Sansa had suggested it, most likely for his benefit because he could not just see it all upon entering. The lighting was clearly done deliberately for the sake of the man who had passed. Two days ago Jon Arryn succumbed to sickness and died. It seemed to be a fast acting illness as Jon and everyone else under House Stark did not even know that he was ill. 

On Jon’s right stood Sansa, who had her Uncle on her other side. Jory and a few of their guards waited outside the sept. Due to the nature of the event, it had been decided to leave their direwolves back in their chambers. Jon had recently had a few strange dreams as of late and he felt like the involved Ghost. Unfortunately the dreams disappeared from his memory like morning mist. But he was starting to recall their details more and more.

They stood alone along the perimeter of open circular space. The late Hand of the King lay in the middle of the large room.

Light from one of the stained glass windows fell onto the right side of Sansa’s face. The purple light seemed to highlight her beauty in a new and different way. Jon's hand twitched. He found himself wanting to run his fingers through her soft velvety hair. To trace his finger down her face where the light fell on it. These types of… feelings were getting harder to ignore. Sometimes he found himself thinking-

“I still don’t like this. Lysa and her son should be here.” Ser Brynden stated grimly, for what had to have been the third time today. 

“Not like she cares much for family” remarked Sansa. His cousin had only met Lysa Arryn once, outside of the greetings they exchanged at court. Jon found the woman to be a little odd and she did nothing to hide her distaste for him. 

Lady Arryn had invited Sansa to lunch within their first week of arriving in King’s Landing. The invitation had clearly stated that he was not allowed to join. Sansa, in a state of fury, had threatened to march over to the rooms that held the Hand and his family, and give her Aunt a piece of her mind. While Jon’s heart soared at the fierce defense that his cousin was wanting to do on his behalf, he knew she could not do so. Brynden Tully had been invited, but declined in favor of meeting with a Lord from the Riverlands, in an attempt to gain info about a potential deal. 

Upon her return from the meal, Sansa had been in a sour mood. That night Jon and Brynden found out the details from the family lunch. She told them about how her Aunt Lysa had started off nice enough, but gradually started to take jabs at her family. First Jon and then Catelyn, and some of those about their mother could have been directed towards Sansa herself. Sansa had not reached back out to her Aunt after that. 

“Still they both should be here. I know that their marriage was one of duty and lacked love, but Lysa knows her duties… Or at least I thought she did.”

“Well Aunt Lysa is not the only person missing, I have not seen Lord Stannis Baratheon anywhere.” said Sansa.

That made Jon pause. While they had not been in King’s Landing for that long, he did pick up on the fact that The Hand and Stannis Baratheon seemed close. Or at least tended to speak to one another fairly often. It was never in the Throne room, but always in the hallways or in the gardens. Typically alone, without other Lords or even members of their own households. Jon’s ability to sense his soundings was a benefit in knowing this as they were often out of sight from most people when having their discussions.

“Yes, that is strange, considering how close they seemed.” Mused Jon aloud. “Actually I have not seen him once since the Hand passed.”

“Something is definitely going on, something big.” Sansa stated as she turned to face him.

Jon started to get lost in the deep blue pools that were her eyes. He could feel himself physically react to them. The way she looked at him, like together they could do and solve any problem before them…

His mind snapped back to what he was doing before they started talking about Lysa Arryn. Turning his head away, Jon scanned the room to see where his target had gone. The room was fairly packed at this point with many of the Lords and Ladies coming to pay their respects. There were others who worked inside the sept itself. The sept that his Father’s family had built… Pushing past that line of thinking, Jon continued to reach out. He could not stop himself from reacting once he sensed who was approaching.

“Shit”

“What is it?” Sansa asked while matching his whisper.

“Lord Baelish is coming over here, to talk to you no doubt.”

Jon knew that both Sansa and Brynden Tully did not trust Baelish, but they did not seem to loathe him. Jon kept his back to the man, not giving away that he already knew he was approaching. His cousin shifted slightly and seemed to transform into her Lady Stark persona once Baelish got closer. The man came over and gave a slight bow towards Sansa, who in turn curtsied.

“My Lady, thank you for providing a small relief on this dour day. I hope each of you are well.”

“Thank you for your kind words Lord Baelish, we are getting along well enough despite the cause that brings us together.”

“Yes Lord Arryn’s death is a tragedy, the King relied upon him greatly.” Petyr Baelish’s voice filled with sorrow. Jon briefly shared a glance with Sansa. It seemed they both were unable to decipher if the man actually felt that way or not. They both knew that the King more than relied on Jon Arryn, King Robert let him run his kingdom. 

“Petyr, I know you were close to Lord Arryn and are on the small council, had he been ill as of late?”

“I can not say that he was Ser Brynden. He seemed more stressed over these last few weeks, but it did not appear to be affecting his health too badly. But maybe it did led to that fever that burned through him. Only the gods know now what caused him to be taken away from us.”

Jon wondered if Baelish’s words were hinting at something. But it was hard to get a read on the master of coin. Beside him Sansa spoke up once more.

“I am sorry for your loss, Lord Baelish. I know he will be missed by many of the lords of the realm and especially those from the Vale. By chance, do you know where my Aunt Lisa has gone? I find it strange that I have not seen her since her husband passed.”

“I received word that she has traveled back to the Eyrie. It appears that her distaste for the city has finally driven her away from it. I guess the passing of her husband within the very walls of the Red Keep was the last straw to get her to leave. I know I would have advised her against leaving, if I had caught her before she acted."

“Do you truly think that is all that there is to it my Lord? I would have thought she would at least have stayed a few days to oversee Jon Arryn’s body and to maybe allow his son a final goodbye.”

Baelish stoked his beard while glancing over at the dead body in the middle of the room. A contemplative look coming over his features, one that Jon found to be an act. He doubted that the master of coin and a bannermen of the Arryn’s would not wonder at the true reasons behind the sudden disappearance of Lisa Arryn. Especially with the hint from Brynden Tully that they had a history.

Jon nearly pointed that fact out, but thought better of it. Jon was not confident that he could get a clear answer out of the man if he pursued that line of questioning. Plus it might end up hurting them if he pushed Baelish on it.  

“You have given me something to think about Lady Sansa.” He turned back to look at her. “You have a sharp mind. You should be prepared to use that mind in the coming days. Many things are about to change.”

“What changes are coming? Do you know who the next Hand will be?” Jon questioned.

“There have been some discussions about the open position, but that is business for the King and small council. But there will be other changes as well.” Jon tilted his head closer, expecting the Lord to say more. He did not. Sansa and Brynden also seemed to think he would have continued as well.

Slowly over their stay here in King’s Landing, Jon came to the opinion that Petyr Baelish loved the business of information. His position on the small council dealt with money and his personal businesses were… something that Jon did not care for. But after so many conversations, and each one Jon detested more than the last, he came to that opinion about the Lord. This just furthered that thought because Jon felt as if Baelish loved the fact that he had information that others did not. Even when he claimed to be trying to help certain people like themselves. 

“Would you be willing or able to share any of the changes with us Petyr?” Questioned Ser Brynden.

A smile formed on Baelish’s face at the question. He almost appeared to revel in it. Smoothly he picked up where he left off.

“Numerous different merchants and travelers will descend upon the city in the coming days. Some of them have already arrived. Many different types of people and beasts will invade the city. Lords and Ladies will be looking to gain more power with the new Hand of the King, whoever that ends up being. Vines and thorns will try to find purchase within the walls of the Red Keep.” He paused again, and squared his shoulders to be directly facing Sansa once more. Jon hated that he always defaulted back to Sansa. Jon’s anger clouded his mind and pushed away his thoughts about what the lord had just said. 

“If you are looking to find aid for your homeland, I would expect more opportunities during these tumultuous days ahead of us.”

Internally Jon groaned. Petyr Baelish did make a great point. One that none of them had thought of, yet it made so much since. A small part of Jon also detested the thought of even more people being packed into the Red Keep.

Baelish shifted slightly on his feet and actually shifted his gaze over Sansa’s shoulder. “I have to head back to the Red Keep now. Remember what I have told you. My Lady, Ser Brynden, Jon Snow.” He nodded his head at each of them. Sansa curtsied once more. The master of coin gave Sansa one last smile before departing.

Ser Brynden Tully went to speak, but Jon quickly motioned for him to stop. A voice filled with regal confidence called out to them a moment later.

“Lady Sansa Stark, I am glad that you could make it and show your support to the late Lord Hand. You as well Ser Brynden Tully.”

Turning almost at once they dipped to greet the Queen. As Jon straightened back up he snuck a peek at the Kingsguard that stood behind the Queen. Jamie Lannister’s eyes roamed over the three of them. Momentarily those green eyes found Jon’s own. Quickly a smirk formed on the man’s face, Jon shifted his gaze away.

This was the first time that Jon was actually in the presence of the Kingslayer. The man that killed his Grandfather. His insane Grandfather that killed two members of his Stark family. Should he feel somewhat thankful for the oathbreaker? Or should he curse him just because he killed a family member, even if said family member did deserve to be removed from power? But should the man who vowed to protect the King be the one to pass judgment, especially when his father was attacking the city? Another headache seemed to be coming on, once again due to the internal struggle that came when Jon thought about his father’s family. Faintly Jon noticed that the Queen had begun to converse with Sansa.

“Yes thank you for your kind words little dove. I am sure the King appreciates you and your family being here. Unfortunately he is indisposed at this time.” The smile that the Queen wore did not meet her eyes. Her words almost covered up the condescending tone. Jon had to stop himself from frowning.

An awkward pause hung in the air between the two groups. Sansa unsure what to say after the Queen’s false words. Again Jon’s eyes shifted towards the man in armor. He wanted to know why the Lannister killed his grandfather. He wanted to know if he actually had a good reason to do so. A small part of Jon, one he did not like to think about, wondered how well Jamie Lannister knew Rhaegar Targaryen. The man he knew so little about.

“Ser Brynden, do you know why your Niece made such haste in her flee from the city? I was not able to express my condolences to her.”

“I was not able to even see her myself, my Queen. I have no idea why she left so quickly.”

“Maybe it was a moment of weakness due to her loss.” Again the Queen took on this feigned tone of sympathy. “It is a pity that she left how she did, the court loves to talk about such things. About what may have caused someone to pack up and leave so quickly.” She let out a sigh and shook her head.

Jon might be new to this southern court and their games, but he could see through the Queen’s facade. So the question is, why is she digging for info about Lisa Arryn? Again it felt as if there was something larger at play. Something they had no idea about. But what was it? And how is Lysa Arryn somehow tied to it?

“I am sure my Aunt had no ill intentions when she left so suddenly. While I can not say that I know her well, I do understand that she values her Son’s safety and wellbeing. That and I do think she wished to return back to the Vale.”

Behind the Queen, her twin took a step forward “‘Her Son’s safety and well-being,’ did she fear that he was in danger?”

“Oh, no I did not mean to imply any such thing Ser. I just know that she cares very much for her son. And if she felt it best for him to leave so quickly, then she would not think twice about it. Even if it is not what others would have liked or expected.”

“I am sure that your Aunt would delight in how you defend her, little dove. It might not be the last time you will have to do so.”

Sansa dipped her head in reverence. Queen Cersei held a calculating gaze on Jon’s cousin. Studying her for something. While Jon had always known the importance that Sansa held as the future ruler of the north, coming to the capital highlighted to him just how valuable she truly was to all the other highborns of the realm. 

He hated it.

“I heard you are looking for aid.” 

Jon felt his whole body tense up. He could sense Sansa do the same. Wanting to comfort and protect her, he took a half step towards her before he could stop himself. Wishing he could just grab her hand or even pull her into his chest and protect her from these vipers.

Slowly she answered the Queen and admitted that they were looking for trade deals.

“Well I am sure that if you married one of my Lannister cousins, you would have all the money you need. While my father might not care as much about my cousins as his children," She made a small gesture to both herself and her twin. "he would not want to see a Lannister suffer, even in the far and frigid north.”

“Oh well uh… thank you for the offer, your Grace, but uh-”

“That is a very generous offer your Grace, but it has been decided that it would be best if my Niece marries someone from the north.”

“You understand how things are done here my good Ser. The best way to form an alliance and get aid is through the transaction of marriage. Lady Sansa is a beautiful little dove, one that could do a great duty to her house by wedding someone from the wealthiest house in the Seven Kingdoms.”

Sansa shrinked in on herself, which only sucked the anger out of Jon. The thought of Sansa being forced to marry someone (or anyone in general, but he did not like to linger on that), filled him with a fiery rage. But one look at her and how the conversation was affecting her, sucked that out of him.

Quickly checking that the Lannister twins were focused on Ser Brynden, Jon closed the gap between him and Sansa. The need to comfort her overriding his sense of caution, he reached out. Softly he ran the back of his fingers against her lower arm. He brushed her arm up and down twice before pulling away. Sansa kept her eyes focused on the Lannister’s, but for a moment, a small smile graced her features. It made Jon’s heart beat a little faster, knowing he put it there.

“You are, of course, correct my Queen, I just mean-”

“Thank you for the suggestion, your Grace. You bring up a good point and I am honored that you would consider mediating a potential marriage between myself and someone from your family.” Sansa said as she swiftly cut off her Uncle. Quickly she glanced at him before turning back to the Queen to continue.

“I do not want to rush into anything at the moment, but you have given myself and my family much to think about. A marriage between the North and the Westerlands could be very beneficial.”

Jon’s hands shook as he clenched them down at his side. His jaw clamped tight. Jon did not know if he wanted to throw up his last meal or spew fire after hearing what his cousin was saying. Moving his fists behind his back he took a slow breath through his nose. Then forced out an exhale. Sansa was only saying this to appease the Queen, I know this and trust her fully. But why am I reacting this way?

Cersei tilted her head up and looked down past her nose. Seeming to once again be studying Sansa. A tight smile formed on the Queen’s face.

“Yes please do consider the option of marriage. I am sure that you would make a lovely bride and I bet you could sing the sweetest songs, little dove. Thank you once again for visiting the late Hand of the King.”

Jaime Lannister turned and followed as she walked away. Jon watched as their forms became large blurry shapes before leaving his eyesight completely. He kept his gaze level and his face impassive. He turned when he felt a soft tender hand pull on his upper arm.

“Jon, let us head back to the Red Keep.” He could see the pleading look in her eyes. The desire to leave this place and the games they were being forced to play. Stiltedly he nodded in reply. His cousin took his arm and led him towards the exit, her Uncle behind them.

Jon was grateful to feel the sun shining down on his face. Lords and Ladies of the realm passed them while on their own way inside to pay their respects. Jon was just thankful to be leaving. His mind a whirlwind of thoughts as he tried to piece together the conversations that they had just had. Along with the hidden meanings and secrets that were just out of his grasp.

At the base of the steps that lead up to the Sept was a man speaking loudly for all to hear, and judging by his appearance, hailed from Essos. His colorful and loose robe-like clothing was in stark contrast to the Lords that ignored him. He seemed to be trying to converse with as many of the Lords and Ladies as he possibly could. As they drew closer, Jon kept his gaze straight ahead, not wanting to attract any more unwanted attention. Sansa on the other hand seemed to be keeping an eye on him as they walked past.

“Did you hear what that man was saying?” Sansa asked. While Jon had tried to tune him out, he could not completely do so.

“Something about trying to start a business here in the city or something.”

“Yes he has purchased a building with the intent of opening up a store to sell his family's wears from Essos. But he needs help rebuilding the shop back up due to it being in disrepair.”

Sansa clearly had a point that she was trying to make, but Jon could not understand what it was. So he pressed her to continue. She pulled him to a stop before answering his question about why that mattered.

“It matters because he is going to need resources to repair his shop. He is going to need wood, which we can provide. A different type of wood than all the other buildings here in Kings Landing have. His clothes are already going to be drastically different from the fashion that already presides here in the south, which could mean he wants his building to stand out like his product. He also is going to want to get his business up and running as soon as he can with the inevitable new hand and the swelling of the court that will follow him.” 

Jon turned his eyes to look at the man who still seemed to be failing in getting anybody to take him seriously. He quickly picked up on what his cousin was getting at.

“And nobody is giving him the time of day, they are ignoring him. But we can be different. Provide a resource that he needs and that others seem to not be interested in giving him.”

“Exactly, plus he might even be interested in our wool. If he or his family makes clothes, we might be able to also sell him on that front too.” Unbending determination shown brightly in her blue eyes. The type of determination that Jon had not seen since before their failed meeting with the Lord from the Reach. She kept her gaze locked onto his as she spoke again.

“I am going to go over and set up a meeting with him.”

“Are you sure about that Sansa?” Questioned Brynden Tully.

“Absolutely sure. This might not land us the biggest deal, but we need the resources. And the quicker that we can send money back home, the better. No matter how large or small that sum might be.”

Sansa turned, back straight and head high, and marched over to their new target.

Chapter Text

Ch 20 Sansa VI

May 301

Jon’s cheeks had a slight shade of red to them as Sansa adjusted his collar. The only thing keeping them from leaving was her Uncle, who was still reading himself. Once he was finished, they would head to the inn where the merchant from Essos was staying.

Sansa glanced up at Jon as she finished straightening the collar. Gray eyes meet blue for a moment, but Jon quickly turned his head away. Heat came to her own face, but she did not shift her gaze away. Taking a moment she took in his face. It was a face she had known her whole life. A strong jaw with lips that looked so kissable…

Glancing down, her fingers had a slight tremble to them. They were still locked onto Jon’s clothing. Her eyes found the hollow of his neck. It was peeking out for her to see. The throat before her bobbed slightly up and down. Glancing up again Sansa realized she had been caught by the man she had been studying. This time the gray eyes did not run away from her. 

“Alright, are you both…” Sansa did not jump back, because that would be unladylike, but she quickly distanced herself from her cousin. Her uncle had a strange expression on his face as he seemed to be studying the two of them. “Are you both ready?”

“Yes we are Uncle. I was just fixing Jon’s collar for him.” She glanced at Jon to see his reaction. It seemed he thought that his shoes were more interesting than either of the other two occupants in the room. 

“Well… alright then. Let’s be on our way. Jon, do you have the wood and wool examples?” 

“Uh, yes Ser Brynden, I do.” 

Sansa cocked an eyebrow at him. Typically the only time that Jon was so formal with her Uncle was when they were at court or in the training yard. When he was younger this was not the case, but over the years they had grown closer and the formalities went away. 

Jon picked up the small chest from the table, tucked it under his arm and stood waiting by the door. 

Sansa glanced at her Uncle. She should probably slip her arm in his. Considering what he walked in on. Not that anything was happening of course, Sansa was just admiring her beautiful cousin. With the thought of him, her eyes slipped back to Jon. Who again was seeming to be looking away from both of them. She smiled, walked up to him, and placed her hand on his arm. 

With wide eyes Jon stared at her hand, looked over at Brynden, then directed his eyes back to the door. 

Wordlessly, her Uncle took the chest from Jon and opened the door out into the hall. Jory and three other guards fell into step behind them. 

The Sun had still not yet reached its peak. That paired with the cool sea breeze allowed Sansa to close her eyes and slip away. Thinking of the crisp morning air that she was so fond of back home. Distantly she thought about how some of the Southern lady’s would complain about the weather being too chilly. But that was not the case.

The city had a little more life these days. New people were showing up all of the time now. Not in great numbers, but enough to notice.

Soon enough they come to the inn where the merchant was staying. It was not far from the Red Keep, which he had probably chosen for that fact alone. The inn itself was nice enough, but during her trips into the city, Sansa thought that there were better options out there. 

The bottom floor of the inn was dominated by tables and benches. Individuals spread out amongst the tables, enjoying their late breakfast. A few of the people spared a glance their way, but none lingered on them. An older man was carrying a large plate with some bowls of soup. Once the plate was empty, he made his way over to them. 

Ser Brynden gave him the name of the merchant who they had business with and they were quickly pointed towards a back room. 

Well this is it. Now or never, because who knows when we will get another opportunity. Even with all the additional people coming to King’s Landing.

Jon raised his fist to knock, but paused. Sansa found him looking expectedly at her. Now or never. She gave him a nod, which was returned by him. Jon slipped his hand into hers to monetarily give her a squeeze, one which she returned. He knocked on the door. 

A voice from the other side bid them to come in. Jon pushed the wooden door open and held it there until she walked through the threshold. Her heart started to be even faster than it had been. 

Inside was a simple square wooden table with four chairs placed around it. Seated in the furthest chair was their man. 

Standing up he gestured with open arms “Hello my friends. Please take a seat.”

“Hello once again, Herman. I am glad that we could meet so quickly.”

“Yes, I am as well.” Sansa replied.

During their initial conversation outside the Sept of Balor, Sansa learned that the merchant preferred to be called by his first name. He told her he was not a lord or a knight. That his father often went by his last name when conducting business and he could not hear ‘Hesteris’ without thinking of his father. It was not something that Sansa was accustomed to. 

Herman had to be in his mid to late twenties, though Sansa would never directly ask him about his age. It would not be very proper to do so. He had black hair and was a little shorter than Jon, but most men were not of his height. He was also not as fit. Today he wore a bright orange shirt that looked like it would billow in the wind if he was to step out. 

“How have you been finding the city during your stay?” 

“It is fine. Warmer than I am used to and the smell is no good. But it is far from my father and there are no slaves. So it is fine.” He gave a shrug and turned towards Brandon. 

“Are you a knight of the kingdom?” 

“Yes I am my… Herman. I am from the Riverlands and hail from House Tully.” 

“Yes, the rulers of those lands.” He turned towards Jon. “Are you also a knight?” 

“No I am not. The North usually does not have knights.”

The merchant hummed from the back of his throat. “You Westerosi and your customs are strange. Rules about this and that. What can and can not be.”

Sansa glanced at her cousin as the man shook his head. 

“I mean no offense. I just have not traveled much outside of Braavos. I have done my studies, but it does not cover everything.” 

This fit into the impression that Sansa got during their first conversation. Herman had a decent education, but did not seem the most worldly. This led Sansa to have two main guesses on why the man from Essos was trying to set up a shop in King’s Landing. The first was the man’s father forced him to go out into the world and either expand their business or to just prove himself. The other thought was he wanted to get away from his father and make it on his own, while still actually relying on his family’s business. Either way it seemed his family’s money was what he had plenty of at the moment. He just did not know the steps needed to convert his funds into his own business.

“Yes, well, if you ever have a question about Westeros or its people, feel free to ask one of us.” 

Herman expressed his gratitude at Sansa’s offer. He passed out cups before filling each one with some Arbor wine. The merchant did comment on the ‘lovely wine’ that these lands produced. He swirled the red around before slowly sipping it. 

Glancing at her own glass, Sansa decided to take a courtesy sip. The last thing she needed was to let the wine go to her head. She felt compelled to drink more alcohol here in King’s Landing, it seemed to be one of the few things that everyone enjoyed doing. But it was something that she was not accustomed to, so she did so sparingly.

“Herman, shall we begin?”

“Of course Lady Sansa Stark, what can you offer me that I would be willing to spend my coin on?”

Under the table Sansa had to press her hands together to keep them from shaking. Now or never.

“Yesterday we went by your property so we would have a better idea about what you are dealing with. The fire clearly destroyed all of the interior. Luckily the fire did not affect the first floor's stone exterior. So, do you intend to build the building back up so it is once again two stories?”

Herman did not even contemplate her question, quickly answering that he wants the second story. Her eyes flicked over to Jon’s who started right back at her. She grasped onto the resolve that his gray eye’s held, using it as her own.

“The wood that you would require to redo the interior of the first floor and completely rebuild the second floor is not easy for most people to do. At least in a timely manner. Plus our wood is superior to the others that you would find here in the south.”

At this moment Jon removed two pieces of wood from the small trunk that they had brought. One of them was cleanly cut into a small block. The other still had its bark on the side of it. The merchant immediately picked up the block.

“This type of wood comes from the Ironwood trees that can be found in the North. You can see the unique darker color that this wood has. Something that would stand out here in the city, which I would imagine would be beneficial to your business. Plus this type of wood is denser than the other types that can be found here. That will provide its own benefits when constructing and maintaining your clothing shop.”

Herman kept his eyes on the Ironwood while murmuring in agreement to her words. He turned each piece around and seemed to be really studying them. Sansa wondered if this came from the fact that trees were so rare in his home city.

“This wood does seem lovely, my Lady. I can envision my store drawing many eyes with it. But you mentioned not many people can get me wood in a timely manner. I admit that I would like to get my shop built sooner rather than later, but I won’t do so at the cost of my coin. That also goes for this type of wood, I will not break the bank for it.”

Her chest tightened at his words. Logically she knew that he was not going to be a pushover, but now, with actually facing his resistance, it made her nervous. This can’t be a repeat of last time, it can’t.

Sansa’s Uncle spoke up. “We would not expect you to do that my- Herman. The price for the wood is definitely something that we can negotiate on, but you might actually want to find a supplier sooner rather than later.”

A quizzical look passed across Herman. “Why would that be Knight?”

“With the passing of the Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, there is a vacancy in the Kingdom. Rather quickly the King will have to fill the position of Hand and when he does, groups of people will be flocking to the city. More so than they already are.”

“Will this be done in the next month or so?”

“I would imagine so.”

“Then my Knight, I am not sure how much I will benefit from that. It will be difficult to build the shop in time for me to see that influx of business.”

Damn. We were hoping that he would not think about that. Maybe he understands more about business than we originally thought. Quickly Sansa scrambled to press their point.

“King Robert will name the Hand of the King and people will flock to the city, like my Uncle said. But something else that the King will likely do is have a tournament thrown in the honor of the new Hand. This will likely be held a few months after the new appointment. His Grace loves feasts and tourneys. Both of which will cause even more people to descend upon the city. This could go on for a few weeks. The build up, the tourney itself, and the court meetings that are held after.”

Sansa released a breath as their potential business partner seemed to contemplate what she had said. Again Sansa shifted her gaze over to her cousin. Hoping that he still had his stoic expression. Sansa could not take it if he looked unsure or nervous.

“Herman, do you know the age of the crown prince?” asked Jon. When the man gave no indication that he did, Jon continued. “He is five and ten and unwed.” Jon paused, letting the man think over the implication on his own.

“And you think the King will remedy that? Soon?”

“I can not say for sure, but it is expected for him to be betrothed, if not wed, within the next year or two.”

This was not something that the three of them had thought about, well at least Sansa had not. At that moment Jon seemed like a gift from the gods with his brilliant line of thinking. At least more than he normally did anyway. Don’t go down that line of thinking, not here. 

Sansa jumped onto the point that Jon was trying to make “And with the new hand and tournament to follow, now would be the perfect time for a royal match to be made. Which could mean another influx of business heading your way.”

Herman quietly pondered the new information. Slowly he took a sip from the wine. 

Sansa worried that everyone in the room could hear her heart pounding in her chest. It was becoming so strong that, in the silence of the room, it was the only thing that she could hear. She jumped slightly when something grabbed her hand. Glancing down, she saw that it was Jon. 

He shared a small smile and glanced back at the merchant. A smile worked its way to Sansa’s own face.

“Is there a reason I should go with you, other than a potential price point that we have yet to talk about, over some other people here in King’s Landing?” 

Sansa had to fight to keep a smile off her face at this question. This they had planned for. 

“Herman, I did not see many of the other Lords and Ladies giving you any of their time outside the Sept. You can continue to seek them out, and someone might give you a better offer than us, but it will take time.” Sansa paused to take a sip. From the corner of her eye, she saw her Uncle give a nod. 

“You can also try to find some local workers who are willing to go out into the woods and cut down the wood you need. Then try to find a place to stow the wood while others start the rebuild. Whether you look for a different Lord or an ill and undermanned local, you are taking a risk, one that will take time. One that could fail. We are offering you a different and unique type of wood. We have spent the time to talk to you and provide you with information that you did not have. Information that will help you and your business. Our wood is the best one suited for you and we can get it to you in a timely manner. We will come through for you where others might not.”

“And you have the capability to get me the wood I need before any of these events start to happen?”

Clearing her throat, and fighting off a smile, Sansa replied. “Yes. We have wood ready to go at White Harbor. It is just waiting for our raven. Within two weeks the building of your shop will have begun.”

A toothy grin was Herman’s immediate response. One that caused Brynden, Jon and Sansa to have the same reaction.

“So let us move to the costs.”

—------------------------------------------

Sansa felt like she was gliding. Like her feet were barely touching the ground as they walked to their rooms. The walk back had been silent but quick. Sansa felt this bubbling of energy that forced her to speed up the closer she got to their door.

She pushed her way in and turned back to look at those that followed her. Ser Brynden was talking to a few of the guards further down the hall, but Jon was right on her heels. His normal stoic face that he wears when traversing these halls was shattered by an ear splitting grin. He let the door close behind them. 

For once Sansa ignored the direwolves as they jumped up on their masters. Only giving Lady a few customary pats.

“We did it! We actually did it!”

Jon’s laugh only expanded his smile. “Yes we did. You did it Sansa.”

“It was a group effort” Sansa said. A small giggle bubbling up due to the pure joy she felt. Both at the accomplishment and the words her cousin said.

“It was your idea to seek the merchant out, it was you that led the discussion and the deal that was brokered with him. You were amazing!”

She felt heat come to her face and neck. “Well, we all worked together to come up with a strategy. Plus you brought up the point about Prince Joffrey AND convinced him to hire some North men to help work the wood when the construction starts.” She quickly added the second part because that added even more coin to the deal. 

Jon rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away. “Well… we might have helped you, but that deal happened because of you Sansa. You are amazing.” A strange sort of reverence laced his tone.

It felt like something gave way inside of her. Like something had found a release that it had been aching to have. Sansa felt this explosion in her chest, seeming to come from her very heart. She did not even comprend what she was doing, seeming unable to control her body.

Sansa flung herself forward, hands grasping Jon’s shoulders, pulling him down some. Her lips smashing against his.

A new explosion occurred, engulfing all other senses and thoughts. 

Bliss.

Bliss, at least until her lungs demanded air.

Pulling away Sansa sucked down air. Emboldened, she glanced upon Jon’s beautiful face. Gray eyes were blown wide and pillowy lips were spread apart. Her joy was not matched by the expression reflected back at her.

The elation she felt in her core turned to ash. 

Oh gods he hated it. He hates me. I thought he might have felt like I did. Did he even kiss me back? I don’t remember. No? Stupid. Stupid! So, so-

Jon’s lips mashed into her own, causing her to stumble back. Strong hands gripped her arms, keeping them both from falling.

Bliss.

Chapter Text

Ch 21. Brynden I

The sight before him was… 

Sansa and Jon were… 

He did not know what to do. He did not know how to feel or how to describe it. He did not know what the fuck to do.

After talking to Jory about the upcoming influx of people coming to the capital, Brynden finally went to enter their rooms after the long and stressful negotiation they had with Herman. When opening the door to their common room, this was the furthest thing that he thought could have greeted him. Brynden was frozen in place. 

A hum from Sansa broke him out of his daze. Brynden was a knight and veteran of many battles, some would say that he was renowned in the Seven Kingdoms for his valor and bravery. 

He nearly ran from the room, trying his best to remain quiet while doing so.

The hall was empty except for the two guards that were stationed further down. Leaning against the far wall, Brynden tried to contemplate what was happening behind the door. Should he go back in and stop them? How did this happen? Should he make sure that the kissing does not lead to something more? No, I should let them have their space, plus I trust them not to do anything… more. And I don’t have to face what I just saw, again.  

Slowly his mind started to turn, trying to pick up the clues about what had led to this moment. 

He was not blind, he could see how they gravitate towards one another. How Sansa seemed to prefer to walk with Jon. How they spent time together reading in the evenings. How sometimes their gazes would meet and it seemed hard for them to break away. But it was just because they were close right? Close because they had to be, they were family. Cousins. 

A memory came back to him, words that Cat had spoken to him before they departed for King’s Landing. 

“If Jon and Sansa start to… depend more on each other in the coming weeks and months… I think you should let them do so. They are good with each other.” 

At the time he had thought she was saying that the trials ahead of them could strengthen their bond. How they could trust and work with one another. Right? But the way his niece Cat said it, made it sound like she meant something more than just that. 

Of course there was the whole collar… thing this morning. The way they had been looking at one another. How close they had been, the distance between their faces (or lack thereof). How they leapt apart when I announced myself. Like how two lovebirds might do when caught…

Brynden’s head was starting to hurt. 

Deciding that enough time had passed, he took the risk and reentered the room. 

It was empty along with the small balcony. 

Gently Brynden rapped his knuckles on Sansa’s door. 

A moment passed before the door was slowly pulled open, revealing Sansa’s face. Which seemed to be a mixture of happiness and nervousness. That slowly transformed into confusion and worry when her eyes met his. 

“Is everything alright Sansa?” 

“Yes, everything is good. Great I mean, yes great! We got the deal done and now we can start supporting the North!” 

He did not fail to notice how forced that second part was. Clearly Sansa was half a world away before she opened the door. 

“Yes, a great turn of events. You did a great job today. You brought great honor to house Stark and the North.”

“Thank you Uncle.” 

“By the way have you seen Jon?” 

“Jon, have I seen him?” She paled slightly 

Brynden nodded in reply.

“Oh, well, I think he went to his room, he wanted to play with Ghost some.” 

Brynden trusted them, he did. But he still let his gaze wander around Sansa’s room. Nothing seemed out of order from what he could see. The bed was made and he could see some items neatly arranged on her desk. He trusted them. 

“Ok.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The awkward tension felt like it was slowly strangling Brynden like a noose. He did not know how to deal with this.

“Do you… want to visit the gardens in an hour's time?” 

“That sounds like a great idea Uncle. I will see you then.” 

Giving a gruff nod, he stepped away. Awkwardly Sansa closed the door, shutting him out. 

A door opening behind him caused him to turn. There on the other side of the room stood Jon, frozen in mid stride. 

“Uhh, I am taking Ghost out. I will be back soon.” 

Swiftly tucking his head down, the lad left their quarters. Ghost happily bounding behind him.

How did this day turn out to be like this?

—------------------------------------------

Brynden stood behind Sansa and Jon as they waited in the crowded throne room. Everyone had turned out for the arrival of the new Hand of the King. Even King Robert himself, though he looked like he might have been the least interested person present. 

The day after they struck the deal with the merchant, court resumed. Well, that term would be loosely based. King Robert sat on the throne for around three hours, called a break, which turned out to be for the rest of the day. Each of the following two days the time the King spent on the throne shrunk until yesterday, the fourth day, when the King just outright canceled it. The King and the small council apparently needed to “get ready” for the arrival of the lord who would be Hand. 

Robert Baratheon was a far cry from what a King should be like. He had noticed it not long after their arrival, but these last few days just proved it even more. It saddened Brynden to think that at one point he had high hopes for their then new King. He had led the rebels against the family that had a mad King and a kidnapping rapist of a prince. How wrong he had been about their new King and the old prince. 

His eyes surveyed the room before they fell on Jon and Sansa. For a moment he was content to study their forms. Sansa’s fingers fluttered, softly glancing Jon’s arm. His twitched in return, seeking but just unable to make contact with his cousin.

The last few days there was a noticeable difference between the two of them. An awkwardness that had never been present. They clearly had feelings towards one another, Brynden had witnessed that, but they did not seem to know how to move forward.

Brynden forced his mind away from the two young people before him, and back to the matter at hand. 

Whispers had begun about who could replace Jon Arryn seemingly the moment after he passed away. Two days ago, Petyr confirmed the rumors. As the doors opened, it was no surprise to Brynden that the banner’s of the lion greeted those in attendance. 

It had been many years since Brynden had seen Tywin Lannister. His hair was thinning, but he still held himself as he always had. Strong and of importance. He walked up to the base of the Iron throne as if he owned the very ground on which he walked on. Which to be fair was true, both because he would basically rule the kingdom due to Robert’s indifference and because of the money the crown owed the Lannister’s, if the rumors were to be believed. 

Silently the man knelt, his age seeming to be ineffective at slowing the old lion down. 

“Rise Tywin Lannister. Rise and accept this pendant as my Hand.” 

“You honor me, your Grace. I will do my best to uphold your values and honor. I will do whatever you call me to do.” 

Robert’s expression had hardly changed from the board one he wore before, but the Queen had a triumphant smirk. It was a look that unsettled Brynden. 

“Yes, yes. Just take the bloody pin, so we can get on with it.” The king motioned with his hand and Lord Commander Barristan Selmy stepped forward from the base of the throne. Opening his hand he produced a small metal object. With pride the Lion moved forward, picked it up, and placed the object that signified him becoming the second most powerful man of the realm on his jerkin. But was he actually only the second?  

“Ok, court adjourned. Everyone leave.” The King did not wait even a moment before descending his throne, only stumbling once on his descent. “Finally we are done with this shit. Where is my wine?” 

The new Hand approached the King, clearly intent on already starting his new position. The Queen joined him at the base of the Iron Throne. 

“Your grace, I-“ 

“Not now Tywin, I have business to take care of. Besides I am sure you want to have time with your family. By all means, please do so.” The Kings waved his hand dismissively. 

“As you say your grace. When would be a good time to meet?” 

“Tomorrow, after my midday meal. Wine!” Robert replied over his shoulder.

With a purpose that Brynden had rarely witnessed from the king, he swiftly exited out the back of the room. Leaving the Lannisters to themselves at the base of the seat of power. 

Softly, his niece’s voice broke the silence “I think we should go, I don’t think anything else will happen today.” Many of the other Lords and Ladies were making their way out.

“Unfortunately I think you are right Niece.”

Almost acting as one, Sansa and Jon turned their heads toward the other. Slowly, hesitantly, Jon offered his arm out. Sansa dipped her head to glance down at the offering, eyes flitting back up to Jon’s face.

Brynden had to stifle a groan. This delicate dance between the two of them was getting old. It might be worth saying something…

—------------------------------------------

It only took two days after the arrival of Tywin Lannister as the Hand for the tournament to be announced. King Robert was actually present and announced it himself at the start of the day. Then promptly handed things over to Tywin Lannister. This was the topic that Brynden, Sansa and Jon were supposed to be discussing during their late midday meal. But the awkwardness between his niece and her cousin made it impossible for the two to focus.

The Knight was becoming extremely exasperated about the whole thing. He placed the bread back onto his plate, figuring that if he did not prompt a discussion, then none would be had.

“I think you should compete in the melee, Jon.”

The two other occupants at the table gave confused hums, indicating that they had not heard a word. Probably because they seemed to be playing a game of tag between each other’s gazes. So Brynden repeated himself.

“You do? I mean I would love to compete. I was just unsure if you would… approve of me doing so.”

“Melees can be dangerous, Jon. You could get hurt, or something even worse could happen. I don’t like the thought of that.” Sansa stated, with worry clear in her voice.

“There are rules for these events and while not everyone has honor, I do not believe people would try anything underhanded towards me.”

While there were rules, many of the competitors had honor (or at least pretended that they had some), accidents could happen. Whether intentionally or unintentionally, they happen all the same. But Brynden knew that now was not the time to mention this.

“Jon will be fine. He is a very skilled fighter and I am sure he could walk into the ring today and be one of the finalists.” And Brynden did believe that. He would not say Jon would outright win a melee, but give the lad a few more years, then he would be a threat to everyone who stood against him. He just needed more practice and to face different types of fighters than those in Winterfell or Brynden himself. 

Plus Jon had his special sense . Brynden did not fully understand it, and tried not to think about the circumstances of how he got it, but he could not deny it. The lad would always dodge or turn and block any strike that someone was making at his back. It was a skill that would be extremely useful in a crowded arena (or a battlefield).

Jon, for once, blushed red for a reason other than Sansa. It was something that the boy had never gotten better at, taking praise from Brynden himself. He struggled with it from many people, but Brynden knew that Jon looked up to him. He just hoped that he could continue to live up to that. He wanted to be that for Jon, Sansa and Arya. But he knew from experience that at some point he would fail.

“Besides, I will be in the ring with him.”

“You will?” Sansa and Jon said at the same time. One with excitement, the other with worry.

“Yes, I will. The money that we would gain from being one of the finalists will help our cause back in the North, plus it will aid us when we try to negotiate with some of these new Lords.”

Sansa with a confused look, asked for clarification on how it can help with making deals with the South.

“People here in the south often look upon the North and its people and think they are more backwards than they are. They think the Northman are strange for praying to trees and are savages. So if Jon fights with honor, and defeats their knights, they might be intrigued. They might be more willing to talk to us. Besides some Lords only respect other highborn by their ability to wield a blade, as backwards as that can be.”

Brynden could almost see the wheels in their heads turning. Both of them starting to understand the opportunity that was now being presented to them. How the prospect of doing it in front of so many, will help in their efforts.

Another stray thought entered his mind, and Brynden had to fight off a smile. “A common thing for any participant is to have a favor from a Lady, a Lady that means something to them. Something that you could get, Jon.”

Like a bolt of lightning, Sansa and Jon’s eyes flashed towards each other before going in opposite directions. Sansa buried and twisted her hands in her lap, while Jon pulled at his collar. Fuck this, we can’t go on living this way. I can’t go on.

“I saw you both kiss on that day we returned from the meeting with Herman. Get over whatever it is you are both dealing with already. I can’t fucking stand it any more.”

Silence followed his declaration. Wide eyes, open mouth, silence.

“You saw, you saw us…” tepidly Sansa tried to form a reply.

“Yes I did. And I have been watching you both struggle with what to do next. I don’t bloody care what you do, just don’t let anyone outside this room here find out.”

“You… are not mad at us? For what we did?” Questioned his Niece. Jon had gone completely crimson and had his eyes locked on his empty plate.

Letting out a sigh, Brynden answered her. “You both care for one another, yes? You both know how to act when… courting someone, correct? How to do so with respect and honor?”

Sansa’s face shifted to a slightly more red color, but she answered yes. Jon still seemed unable to talk, but did look directly into his eyes and gave a firm nod. Progress .

“Look I won’t say that I don’t find it a bit weird. But it is clear that you both care for one another, and I know you will each treat each other with respect. If this is what you want then I will support it.”

Slowly, for the first time since the joke about a lady’s favor, they turned to face one another. A small, nervous smile appeared on each face.

Chapter Text

Ch 22. Cat VIII

May 301

Catelyn sat with her back rigid as Mera put the finishing touches on her hair. From the mirror she was able to watch the girl as she worked. Cat did not mind doing her own hair, often it was a relaxing process for her, but today she let her new maid do the task. 

Mera was one of the victims from the wildling raids that happened around Last Hearth. Many of the people went to the Umbers for aid, but they could not house, feed and look after everyone. So Cat, as the Lady of Winterfell, sent a message along with some troops to round up and guard those in need as they made their way to Winterfell. 

Mera’s parents had been murdered before help arrived. With no other family to provide any aid, it fell upon her young shoulders to take care of herself and her younger brother. So when the siblings arrived, Mera had been desperate for coin.

Mera was ten and two and more than willing to do any job inside the castle walls. Maybe it was the typical northern look she and her brother had, the gray eyes that reminded Catelyn of Arya and Jon, or maybe she just missed Sansa and Jon and saw another child that needed her help. Either way, Cat made Mera her maid. 

Catelyn continued to watch the girl through the reflection. With delicate fingers Mera weaved the hair just how she was shown. The lady stayed silent until the young girl was finished.

“Thank you, Mera. You have become much better at this.” 

“Thank you my lady, I just need a little more practice and I will be able to do it perfectly for you.”

“You need not stress yourself over this Mera. You are doing a great job picking everything up so quickly.” Catelyn turned around in her chair so she could look the girl in her eye. Gently she took Mera’s closest hand into her own. “I want to know how you and your brother are doing. Are you settling in ok? Do you need anything?”

The maid held her gaze for as long as she could, until her watery eyes forced her to look down. “We are doing well. Settling in. You and everyone else here inside the castle are helping us so much. Thank you.”

The reply was barely more than a whisper, but in the quiet of the room, it was clear to Cat’s ears. It was also apparent that they were not truly “well.” But she did not push the girl on that. Catelyn was more than aware how sometimes, one just needs time. 

Catelyn dismissed Mera, which allowed her to go break her fast with her brother. Cat decides to take her first meal in the main study, the mountain of letters could no longer be put off.

Reports from the Umbers, the Manderlys and other northern houses passed though Catelyn’s hands as she read over each one. The displacement of the small folk, lack of workers and inadequate resources. The issues that her people faced never seemed to end.

Not even noon and she felt mentally exhausted.

Placing her hands on the desk, Catelyn pushed up and stepped away from her taxing obligation. Pushing open the shutters caused gooseflesh to spread over her skin.

Down in the yard below a few guards were setting up for their daily training. Luckily for them the snows had melted a few days ago, allowing them easy access to move around the yard. Days like these reminded the Lady of Winterfell of the first time she arrived here. With her first born in her arms.

Robb’s name day was five days ago.

Catelyn did not get much work done that day. Or the one after.

Swiping with her hand, Cat cleared the tears that trailed down her face.

—------------------------------------------

“Yes! Did you see that!? Three in a row!”

“Yes I saw that, and now the whole yard knows about your achievement.” replied Ser Rodrik, fighting to keep a straight face. 

Catelyn herself could not help but smile at her daughter’s enthusiasm. Even she had to admit that three straight bullseyes from that distance was impressive. But the shouting had awoken Arya’s companion and now the direwolf was jumping up on the girl’s leg, joining in on the celebration. 

Cat might never fully get over the idea of a daughter of hers participating in weapons training, but it was moments like this that made her glad she had relented in allowing it. She had too few children left and she vowed to put their happiness first whenever she could. Absent-mindedly she thumbed the letter residing in her pocket. 

“Nymeria, get down! I am trying to practice. We can play later, I promise.” 

It seemed like the dog-size wolf actually understood her master. After a few more jumps, the wolf padded back over to her spot, once again dropped down to the ground. But her ears and eyes were still trained on her master.

“It seemed to me that maybe that distance is becoming too easy for you. Take ten more steps back.”

“Ten more… but I am already farther than I have ever been.”

Rodrik just stared at the girl. After another few seconds, Arya Stark picked up her arrows and counted her paces until she reached her new mark.

Catelyn let out a sigh as her mind once again went to her biggest fear when it comes to her youngest daughter. Will Arya be able to become a true lady for a northern lord?

She loved that her daughter is able to derive some happiness from training in the yard like Jon. Truly she did, but will that come back to bite her later on when she is forced to marry?

Catelyn knew that ladies of the north were different then those south of the Neck. She had even witnessed this when Maege Mormont visited their castle. Arya had of course loved that visit. This was on top of the stories about what Lyanna Stark would do in her youth, those stories culminating with her becoming the mystery knight that stole the show at Harrenhal. At least she did until Rhaegar crowned her with winter roses.

Is Arya destined to do something similar? Reject a marriage and run away? Or maybe secretly become some knight in a tourney? Oh Ned how I wish you were here, you knew Lyanna, maybe you would know the best path forward with our daughter.

All of this might be coming to a head sooner rather than later. With Lord Locke’s heir and grandson likely coming to Winterfell in the next month or two. The elder Lord Ondrew Locke wished for his family to visit Winterfell and come to know the Starks. The only thing keeping that from happening at the moment was the apparent annual hunt they had.

Letting out another sigh Cat watched as Arya took aim and fired her arrow. 

This was the most upfront any of the lords have been about a betrothal to one of her daughters. Actually showing up with the boy when there was not already an event going on within their halls. It would also be the first time Arya will have to deal with a potential betrothal. 

That alone made her nervous. And slightly annoyed that a Lord was basically stating they were coming to Winterfell, with a thinly veiled excuse, in an attempt to set up a marriage. 

From the ground below Catelyn heard Arya’s frustrated mumblings as she hit the out part of the target.

“Calm yourself little wolf. Remember your discipline. Not too long ago you struggled from the previous distance.”

With one firm nod, Arya picked up her next arrow and placed it on her bow. From Catelyn’s vantage point on the walkway above, she could see the look of concentration on her daughter’s face. One that she never shows while working with a needle. A moment later the arrow is released.

Turning her head Cat followed the projectile on its path down range.

Thunk

Not center mass, but closer than her previous shot. Sweeping back over to her youngest, Catelyn witnessed a small smirk before concentration took back over.

Fingers once again brushed over the letter hidden in her pocket. The one from her Uncle updating her about the happenings at the capital. About Jon and Sansa.

A warmth had grown in her chest upon reading the news the first time a few hours ago. That feeling returned every time she touched the piece of paper.

Catelyn might doubt her abilities to govern the North or the decisions she makes in her life, but she never doubts her capability to read her children. In the months leading up to what ended up being their departure, Sansa and Jon had seemingly, to Catelyn at least, grown even closer. The glances from across the room, tracking each other’s movements, how they seemed to lean a little closer to one another.

At first the Lady of Winterfell had discarded what she thought she was seeing. She doubted until she heard how her daughter started to talk about Jon to her. Catelyn heard it in her voice. Subtly she prompted Jon to talk about his cousin, a task that was not difficult in the slightest. The result was the same.

After her discovery she pushed the thought out her mind, ignoring it. Thinking it would just be a phase.

Until watching how they walked along the castle walls one evening. After a particularly stressful day, Catelyn sought out the silence and the crisp air that could be found on top of Winterfell’s walls. At first she did not notice the pair, but happened upon them walking together, arm in arm. A young redhead on the cusp of womanhood linking arms with a young northerner with dark hair.

It was like looking through a window into the past. A happier moment in time. One that Catelyn was now viewing from an outside perspective rather than living and experiencing. She made sure to remain unnoticed. 

Oh Ned, if you can just see them now. She had thought at the time.

They strolled along the ramparts. Sansa laughing at something that Jon had said. Her picking at some speck or loose thread on his coat. Her heart could almost not take it. But if it was one thing she wanted, it was for her family to find happiness. 

Jon and Sansa made each other happy.

Two weeks later both of them were heading south, to do their duty for their homeland. And now they were succeeding in doing so.

A screech from the yard brought the Lady of Winterfell out of her musing. Arya was chasing after a laughing Theon. Arya had her bow in hand, thankfully without any arrows. Ser Rodrik’s attempts to stop the youths went unanswered. They disappeared from Catelyn’s eyesight as they went around the guest house.

Pulling out the message once more she read it again. Thankfully her Uncle only hinted at how Sansa and Jon had “grown closer and seemed better for it.” He also stated that she was proven right about them. Thankfully no one else would be able to decipher the true meaning behind his words.

The hard part would be how to get people to accept the relationship between the heir to the north and her perceived bastard brother. Revealing Jon’s parentage was obviously out of the question, but Catelyn believes that she has a work around for that.

If they “reveal” Jon to actually be Brandon’s bastard, then the Northern lords might accept it. Howland and Benjen could both help in explaining the reasons why Ned kept his elder brother’s bastard a secret.

The Lords would grumble about how they would be robbed of the opportunity to have their own blood ruling the north, but they would see reason. Sansa marrying her elder bastard cousin would help solidify her claim to Winterfell and keep any succession issues from cropping up.

Well, she hoped that they would see the logic behind such a marriage. 

Catelyn decided that she would have a real conversation with both of them once they returned to Winterfell, whenever that will be. Hopefully that will be sooner rather than later. I miss my children and long for their return.

The other issue that stems from the relationship is the potential of others finding out about it before they could "reveal the truth.” I pray to both the old gods and the new that they know how to handle themselves. If anything were to happen… I don’t know what I would do with myself.

Chapter Text

Ch 23. Jon VI

May 301

Jon had to fight the desire to reach up and touch his lips. He found that that was his default reaction when his mind drifted back to his first kiss. When he kissed Sansa. Her lips on his and the warm crackling fire that ignited inside of him. How simultaneously his heart stopped while also beating right out of his chest.

The woman on his mind stood up and started back towards him. The small child running off when their new coin firmly grasped between his hands. A slight nudge forced him to look away.

“Quit it. I know we are not in the Red Keep, but you can’t start making eyes at each other out here on the street.”

An embarrassing heat flooded his face as Jon found himself looking down the bustling street. This was only the third or fourth time that Ser Brynden said something like this to Jon. The only other times had been when they were in the godswood or the gardens. 

Jon had to actively focus on not staring at Sansa when they were attending court, walking the halls or conversing with other lords and ladies. He had done a good job in doing just that, but it was moments like this, when they were away from the watchful eyes that he would sometimes lapse.

Another nudge forced him once more to return to the present. This touch was lighter, softer, than the previous one. Turning, he felt his lips start to pull upwards as he was greeted with curious blue eyes.

“What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something happened to you.”

Fighting the muscles in his face, Jon stayed neutral “Why do you think something happened to me Sansa?”

“You were rubbing the back of your neck while having that look on your face.”

“What… what?”

Instead of continuing to indulge him with banter, his cousin just gave him an expecting look.

“Well your Uncle might have told me to stop staring.” Despite him mumbling, Sansa was able to piece together what he had said. And what he was implying.

A dusting of rose red came to her cheeks. Sansa snuck a glance at her uncle. Despite himself, Jon felt the need to justify his actions, and maybe to also flatter his crush. He did have enough thought to reach out with his senses to make sure no one was close enough to hear him. Thankfully this part of the street was a tad less busy.

“I can’t help it. The smile you had while the kid was hugging you to show his thanks was just too beautiful. And not being allowed to look at you for most of the day is tiresome.”

The red darked on Sansa’s face. Making sure to not be caught gazing at her again, Jon only watched out of the corner of his eye. This is how he saw the wobbling smile that Sansa forced down before addressing him once more.

“Come along Jon, the sooner we get to Herman, the better.”

Placing her hand on his arm, Sansa led their small ground towards their destination. 

This was the third time that they have made the trip to the build sight. The first two trips were when the materials were being delivered to Herman and then again on the first day that he broke ground on his shop.

Unsurprisingly the merchant was standing outfront of what would be his business. The man was not trying to direct any of the work, just content to watch his future being put together. The man was dedicated but knew to not overstep his bounds by trying to get involved in things he had no knowledge of. 

Once they got within earshot, Sansa spoke. “Herman, how is the shop coming along? It looks like the outside might be nearing completion.”

“Ah, the Lady Sansa, with your uncle and brother, greetings. Yes the outside is nearly complete, just putting the finishing touches on the widow frames. The work on the inside of my shop has already begun. Please come have a look.”

With a wave, Herman started towards the front door. Sansa, Brynden and Jon followed the man as he entered the building, deciding it was best to indulge their partner. Their guards, led by Jory, gave them the space they needed and waited outside.

The merchant showed them around his future shop. Talking about how everything was going, the plans for the layout and how impressed he was with everything so far. As they took their tour, the northmen who were working under Herman, gave them a small acknowledgement when they passed by. Jon might not fully understand the whole process that went into building a shop, but he agreed with their client that this was all very impressive. 

"I am glad that everything is coming together for you Herman.” Sansa said as they exited back out onto the street. “Is there anything else that we can do for you?”

“No, I don’t require anything else at this current time, but I do have something for you.”

Jon and his cousin shared a quick glance. This was something that was new and completely unexpected. Sansa asked him to elaborate.

“Well as the Ironwood started to go up, people began to ask questions about it. Most came from random passersby who were just curious. But I had two different people ask where they could purchase some wood for their own business.”

Each individual from their northern party started looking at one another, all thinking the same thing.

“One was a blacksmith who wanted some work done on his shopfront. Not much I do not think, just to replace some of the aging wood. The other man makes furniture and wanted to try his hand at crafting some things from it. I told each one that I would pass along their desire to do business with you.”

Jon’s fingers twitched, his desire to grasp Sansa’s hand almost overriding logic. This is a breakthrough! It might not be a major pay day, but it could be a steady stream of income AND it could snowball into even more business. He so wanted to celebrate this moment with Sansa, he knew how great this was for her. It continued to validate her and just how competent she really is. This was all happening because of her.

Sansa was actively trying to keep her face as natural as possible, but Jon could see that she also realized how monumental this could be for them.

“Please, let me know who these men are and where we can find them.”

—------------------------------------------

Sunlight fell through the shifting leaves and caused Jon to raise his hand up to protect his eyes. Sansa rode between him and the Blackfish. Ghost and Lady dashed around in front of them, going in and out of the underbrush. Their Stark guards took up the rear. 

Ser Brynden was the one that brought them out here to Kingswood. He made sure that Jon brought a few blunt practice swords, which were currently secured to his horse. This was not the first time they had ventured out into the woods outside the capital. The handful of times that they had, was because they wanted to let their growing direwolves roam free for a day. Jon knew that Ghost loved those days, away from the castle and all its residents. Somehow he knew it on a more fundamental level than just observing his wolf. It was not something that he could really describe, that feeling he would get from Ghost was unique. Maybe Sansa would understand if I talk to her about it. Her and Lady seem just as close as Ghost and myself.

“The Red Keep and the entire city of King’s Landing is becoming more and more crowded as we draw closer to the Hand’s Tournament.” Ser Brynden said to break the silence that had fallen over their party.

“Indeed Uncle. House Tyrell and a few of their closer bannermen arrived just this morning. They certainly came prepared.” 

Jon nodded along to what Sansa said. Shortly after they had finished breaking their fast, word started to travel around the keep that the Lords of the Reach had entered the city. His cousin had wanted to go view the arrival, to see what type of reception they would receive. Brynden declined to go, but Jon was more than happy to accompany her. 

Sansa had put it politely when commenting on how they traveled. The amount of pomp and finery had shocked Jon. Sure he had heard how different some of these southern houses did things, but the Tyrells carried themselves almost as if they were the ruling family. The grand carriages, the number of men at arms that accompanied them, the flags that proclaimed to everyone exactly who they were. He could not see most of this, but his ability to sense things created a clear enough picture for him. It left a sick taste in Jon’s mouth.

Many of the lords and ladies had so much here in the south. So much more than the people back in the north. Sure the highborns had it better than the rest, but everyone was suffering. The lack of food and materials was causing a strain on everyone. That was definitely not the case here.

Sansa had been the one to point out the reception party that had shown for the new arrivals. The Queen, her father the Hand, and the crown prince were the leading party to receive the Tyrells. Sansa and himself had found purchase up on a walkway that was mostly empty, which was exactly what they had wanted. Up and away from the yard underneath, but close enough to know what was going on. He remembers turning to gauge Sansa’s reaction and see if she could recognize who all came from House Tyrell. 

Whatever words he had planned to say died on his lips. To Jon’s shame, he got lost gazing at the side profile of Sansa’s face. The strands of hair that had fallen forward to cover her ear. The red strands blowing softly in the breeze. He had been tempted to brush them back behind her ear… but the moment had passed as someone dropped a luggage bag down in the yard below.

“They are the first of the major houses to show up, but others will be soon to follow. The training yard is already crowded and with the Tyrells, it will only get worse. Which will make training more difficult there.” Brynden shared a glance with Jon when he said that. It was the first thing that they had connected on, training in the yard. It was something they both loved and Jon could not ask for a better teacher.

“So from here on out, we will no longer be using the training grounds until the melee is over.”

“Wait what? How can we not use the training ground? Did you change your mind about us participating in the event?” 

“I have done no such thing Jon, I just mean to maximize our chances of success.”

Sansa looked just as confused as Jon felt. The knight thankfully continued.

“We have a few things working in our favor. First is many of the knights who are descending upon the city will only be focusing on the joust, so not all of the realms greatest swordsmen will be competing. Plus others will split their time trying to compete in both events. Which could result in them having inadequate practice or cause them to overwork themselves with their dual training”

Jon could only nod his head in agreement. Everything that the Blackfish was saying sounded likely. Besides, Jon had never even seen a tourney before, while the knight before him had participated in countless ones. Who could have a better understanding about them than his mentor. He listened as the man continued.

“So now it falls upon us to maximize our chance of success. Starting today, and we will continue this every other day, we will journey out here into the woods and practice away from prying eyes. People might know about the attack that happened all those years ago and maybe what even happened to you.”

Brynden Tully paused and gave Jon a look, as if to say sorry for bringing this up. He could also see his cousin giving him a similar look, her way of supporting him and his struggles. Jon swallowed the lump in his throat. 

Nodding his head, Jon bid the knight to continue.

“But what they don’t know is your ability to sense what is happening around you. This will help you greatly in a melee setting where fighting and chaos will be all encompassing. So we will keep it that way, by practicing out here.”

Fighting past his darker thoughts, Jon picked up on something that had him questioning this new plan. “You said every other day we will be out here correct?”

Brynden nodded.

“But what will we be doing on those other days? Won’t we fall behind by not practicing?”

“We will be going over footwork and strength training inside our rooms. But the physical training is only half the battle. The other way we will prosper is by knowing our opponents.”

“Are you saying you will be watching others while they train?” questioned Sansa who cut it.

“Exactly my niece. Quickly the top performers will be apparent and we will study them. Understanding their movement and tendencies will be a great benefit if you find yourself facing them in the ring.” 

Jon was beginning to understand the great tactical mind that was the famed Blackfish. Sure he had received tutelage under him in the art of war, but to see the man take it down to a microscopic level… Well, he was even more impressed.

“Of course if we have any business to attend to regarding potential trades, that will come first. But what do you say Jon?”

The smile that came to his face was unbidden, and Jon did not try to stamp it down. “I say, let’s begin.”

—------------------------------------------

The light coming from the fire lit the room in a warm glow. Jon watched as Sansa’s delicate hands closed the book in her lap. For a moment her hand rested on top, seeming to hold the book in place, before tucking it in more firmly to her side. Then, just barely, Sansa leaned into Jon just a little more. 

They were seated on the small bench at the base of her bed, their backs against the frame. In the past they would sometimes take their nightly reading while on Sansa’s bed, but to Jon that felt like something they could no longer do. No matter how bad he might want to.

Brynden Tully might not fully understand them and their feelings for one another, but he gave them space. He had made sure to talk to them about being proper with one another. To be respectful and to not take advantage of the space he was giving them. So Jon made sure to stay respectful while cherishing these private moments.

It was strange in a way, this moment alone. Jon was by Sansa’s side more often than not here in King’s Landing, but they could not show their true feelings to one another. But now here in the warmly light room, Jon was content to just sit next to her. Enjoy her warmth as she leaned against him. He had no need to do anything else. Simply being with her, away from everyone else, was more than enough.

Sansa shifted some more and leaned her head down upon his shoulder. Should I put my arm around her or maybe tuck her hair back? Or maybe just complement her?

As Jon’s mind sputtered to come up with what to do, a new thought bloomed. The story Sansa had read was centered on King Aegon V. It was something new for them, this story found in the book. Sansa and Jon had read about some of his adventures with Ser Duncan the Tall, but here in the Red Keep, Sansa found a book about his later life. It talked about him and his love, Lady Betha Blackwood. 

Jon could tell from how his cousin read aloud that she enjoyed the snippets about the then future king courting and later marrying his lady love. 

He knew Sansa used to dream of a proper lord or knight who would court her and fall in love with her. He understood clearly that he could not give her all of that, but still… Maybe he could try? He definitely wanted to give her everything she dreamed of. She deserved it after all.

“Sansa, do you think…” Suddenly Jon found it difficult to speak. Sansa looked on as he cleared his throat. Her beautiful blue eyes were not helping him in this instance. Forcing himself, Jon pushed on.

“What I mean is, I want to court you, properly. I know we have to keep this a secret, but I want and think you deserve to be properly courted. So… will you let me?” Jon was quiet, but with how close they were, it was loud enough for Sansa.

Jon’s body felt like it was on fire, he only hoped that his cheeks did not betray him. 

A smile from his cousin quickly levitated Jon’s fears. 

“Oh Jon, I would love that!” As fast as an arrow, Sansa shot up and laid a peck on his cheek. The heat that had started to recede, returned with renewed vigor. 

For a moment Jon locked eyes with his cousin. Then both promptly looked away. The tingling sensation started to spread outward on his face. 

“Good, I would like that.” 

Again a silence filled the chamber. Twice more their eyes meet before swiftly bouncing away. While Sansa was no longer leaning on him, her shoulder was still touching his own. 

“Uh, well, I think I should bid you a goodnight.” Jon turned around after going to his feet. Delicately, he picked up Sansa’s right hand with his own. Bending down he placed a chaste kiss on the soft skin. 

Slowly and deliberately Jon rose back to his full height. 

“Goodnight my Lady, I will see you tomorrow.” 

His overly formal tone and wordage worked, as Sansa blessed him with one of her true smiles. 

“Goodnight my good Ser. I look forward to seeing you again.”

Her smile warmed his far more than the fire ever could.

Chapter Text

Ch 24. Sansa VII

June 301

As the trees began to thin, the city walls came into view for Sansa. The downside of the city growing closer was their freedom coming to an end. With tomorrow night being the welcoming feast for the tournament, today had been the final day that Jon and her Uncle would be able to train out in the Kingswood. Which also meant a decrease in the amount of time that Sansa and Jon would be able to escape the eyes and ears from all those who attend court.

Sure they were not allowed to be out in the open with their feelings even here beneath the protection of the tree’s canopy. But no one here would stop her from gazing at Jon from time to time while he trained. The way he moved was captivating and thankfully she could look on without any fear. Other than the fear of being caught by Jon himself. Jon had begun courting her, when they were free to do so, but Sansa still felt slightly embarrassed whenever Jon saw her staring.

A playful bark from Lady shifted Sansa’s focus away from her cousin and onto her direwolf. Ghost dashed away as Sansa’s wolf tried to pounce. The male wolf momentarily stopped to look back at the other before bolting off, weaving his way between the trees and bushes. Lady, of course, gave chase.

Watching the two of them play reminded Sansa of the dream she had awoken from. 

She dreamt of being in the very room that she called her own while here in King’s Landing. But the strange thing was the perspective she had during her dream. How high up everything seemed and weirdly spaced out. Sansa remembers how she was able to press her nose to the small gap underneath the door that she knew to lead out to the common room. She was able to smell Ghost, which brought her comfort in the dream. The strange part was upon waking, Sansa remembered that during the dream she associated the common room as where she would play with her silent brother. 

There had been other mornings where upon waking, she had a lingering feeling, or connection with Lady, but this morning she had been able to recall almost every detail. Or at least she thinks it was everything from the dream. I guess I have no way of knowing for sure, at least not yet.

The wolves raced back in front of the horses which pulled Sansa out from her thoughts. Ghost tried to make a turn, but lacked the traction to make it a quick one, causing him to skid. Lady, who had been going full speed, slammed into him causing them both to get tangled up as they spun to the ground.

The gasp that left Sansa’s lips was matched my Jon’s mirthful laugh.

“You are going to have to be faster than that Ghost if you want to stay away from Lady” Called out her cousin.

The wolves both quickly stood up, shook themselves off, and dashed away again. 

They were now larger than any dog that Sansa has ever seen. Distantly she wondered if that would be a problem to those here at court. She imagined that it would. I will keep Lady hidden from sight when I can, but when I am in the city or walking the tournament grounds, I will not put her away just because she makes people uncomfortable. She represents the North, the Starks and home. I will not cover up who I am. A Stark of Winterfell.

As they came under the shadow of the city wall, Sansa let her mind wonder to what the rest of the day could hold for them. With the feast taking place tomorrow night, the castle was sure to be packed, but many would be trying to prepare for either the feast or the tourney that follows. 

Dinner would likely be sent to their rooms within the hour once they made it back. But after that, there should still be enough daylight to take an evening stroll with Jon. While there would be others about, other than their guards, it would still be nice to have a quiet moment with Jon before the festivities start. 

—------------------------------------------

Sansa’s earlier assumptions were proven correct. The Sun had dipped under the city walls, but the sky was cast in a beautiful array of colors. The purple, pink and orange sky complemented the greens that surrounded them in the garden.

They had refrained from showing their true feelings towards one another while on their walk. But it came a little easier to Sansa this evening. Just being near and having her hand on Jon was enough. For now at least. 

Several paces back was Jory and Alyn. They gave the pair plenty of pace, which Sansa was thankful for, even if they were projecting the image of a normal familial bond between a brother and sister.

Every now and then Sansa would stop their leisurely stroll to smell a flower. Each time Jon waited patiently by her side, letting her control their pace. She also knew that he would not dictate their return, again leaving that up to her. But they had been out here for what must be over half an hour and they would need their rest for the days ahead.

The sky was starting to lose its colors as they came to a stop in one of the intersections created by the rows of tall bushes. Sansa was just about to voice her thoughts on their return when someone else called out to her. Turning to her left she spotted Lord Baelish making his approach.

Jon’s arm had already gone tense under her hold.

“My dear Lady Sansa, it is so lovely so see you.”

“Evening Lord Baelish, it is good to see you too.” Making sure to extend pleasantries back to the man on the small council.

“I have been meaning to talk to you about matters of great importance. If you have just a moment, I would love to explain them to you.”

Sansa bid the Master of Coin to continue. The man opened his mouth before closing it once more. His eyes went to the guards behind her.

“These matters are of a delicate sort, the fewer ears the better.”

She had to stamp down the slight displeasure that rose up with his implication about their guards. But deciding it was best to indulge him, she motioned for them to give them more space. 

Baelish’s gaze then shifted to Jon, before returning to her with an expecting look. Sansa’s irritation grew at this.

“Whatever you have to say, my brother can hear it as well.”

Bowing slighting, Petyr Baelish acquiesced.

“I have put our feelers for some of the Vale Lords, trying to find out if anyone might need a large quantity of wood.”

The Lord’s eye flitted about before closing the distance between them even more. He was now just an arms length away from Jon and Sansa. When he spoke again, Sansa had to strain her ears to hear him.

“Do you know of House Melcolm?”

Sansa had to rack her brain to try and recall all she knew about the house from the Vale.

“House Melcolm, they arrived a few days ago. But they hail from… Old Anchor?”

“As brilliant as always my lady. Yes they come from Old Anchor and their lands are one of the few fertile lands in the Vale. They are not as large a place as Gulltown, which also grows crops, because they do not have a major port. This is something that Lord Hugh Melcolm is looking to change. The sooner you can capitalize on this be better. You never know when someone else will come along and make a deal.”

The small smirk on the man’s face showed what he thought about their prospective partner. But Sansa did not want a repeat of her past failures. She would need to know more about this Lord before taking a meeting with him.

 “So I am assuming you think we can sell them some of our wood to Lord Melcolm.” After getting confirmation from Petyr Baelish, she continued. “Why would he not be able to get lumber from his own or surrounding lands?”

“Sharp Lady Sansa. There are a few reasons for this actually. One is that Old Anchor is not a large town and does not have a lot of extra places to stay at the moment. So the additional man power that is needed to collect the wood, would have no were to stay. Another reason is that hunting is a large part of their way of life there. So the chopping down of trees would disrupt that way of life until the project is complete, which would make many people upset. Sure he is the lord, but if his work force is upset with him… it could cause problems.”

Again Baelish paused to check their surroundings. Sansa kept her focus on the man before her, looking to see if he would give anything away. Plue she was confident that Jon would be able to sense anyone if they were close enough to overhear them. 

This line of thinking did pull her gaze away from the Lord, but it was almost on instinct. Her cousin looked tense, but kept his eyes on the man that she knew he did not like.

“The last thing preventing the Lord from seeking aid from his neighbors is some small disagreements between some of them and him. Nothing major, but it would cost him extra if he was to try and make a deal with them. Some he fears might not make a deal at all. Plus if you strike up a deal with him, it could come back around to benefit you in the future. Sure you would get payment now, but you never know when you are going to need to call upon a friend in the future.”

Petyr’s sly smile only grew the more he explained the situation. Sansa turned over this new information in her head. The situation seemed much better than the disaster that was the meeting with Lord Oakheart. The last comment did stick out to her though.

“What do you mean by having a friend to call upon?”

“One is not able to build a castle on their own, at least not very quickly. Too many things are needed to complete that task, but that is where your friends can come in. Other people that you can call on in your time of need. Those that will help you with the materials, work load or help with the finance. Many friends can be made here in the Red Keep. Powerful people that can help you go far, if you know how to make them befriend you.”

They discussed Lord Malcolm and a potential deal with him for a few more minutes before finally turning in for the night. As Jon walked them back to their rooms, Sansa could not shake the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach.

—------------------------------------------

It had taken a little bit of work, but Sansa had convinced her Uncle to actually dress nicely for the opening feast. She knew that if Jon had a choice he too would have gone in his sparring attire, but thankfully he accepted the need to dress up almost immediately. Her Uncle Brynden on the other hand, not so much. Eventually she was able to wear him down and he relented. 

Which is where she found herself now, standing in front of them both to double check them before they step out into the hall. Of course both of their outfits heavily featured black. Her Uncle at least had a blue tunic under his vest while Jon’s only color came from the gray trim around his collar and sleeve cuffs. But it would have to do.

Sansa herself had started getting ready hours ago. While it took her longer to get ready than the men, it was mainly because the servants inside the Keep are overworked. With all of the different Lords and Ladies it took longer to receive water for bathes and the get the help Sansa needed to put on her dress.

The stress that had been put on the household staff was why Sansa had become closer to the main maid that had been assigned to her, Alla. Over the past two weeks Sansa had really gotten to know the younger girl. She even shared a meal with her the one time that she was unable to accompany her family when they went out into the Kingswood. Of course Sansa had to repeatedly tell the girl that it was fine to share a quick meal with her. Outside of that Sansa had gifted the girl desserts and even a few extra coins for her hard work.

Sansa herself wore a dark blue dress that pooled slightly around her feet. Alla had helped to make sure that the dress would not trip her up with the dancing that would take place later on. Along the bottom of said dress, Sansa had small running direwolves stitched in. The touch of the north on her dress matched her hair braid. Admittedly she found the hair styles here in the south intriguing, but felt it better to represent her homeland during such an important event. To complete her look she dawned the wolf necklace that Jon had gifted her on her recent name day. 

“So niece, do we pass your test? Are we ready to head down to wait for the feast to begin.” 

“Yes Uncle, you both look ready for a proper courtly event.” She replied, choosing to overlook and forgive his snarky comment. 

Going over to her cousin, Sansa tucked her arm in his and out they went. The feast was not set to start for another hour, but they wanted to get there early to potentially talk to the other highborn. 

For a moment as they walked the halls, Sansa let her mind drift away. It went to a world where she could walk arm and arm with Jon and their relationship not be kept a secret. A place where she could show the world where her heart truly resided. A place where her knight is shining armor was always by her side.

“Ah, Lady Sansa Stark, Ser Brynden Tully and Jon Snow. All dressed up and ready for my brother’s grand feast.” Coming to a stop, Sansa turned to find the voice that had called out to them. From a way down the intersecting hallway, walked Renly Baratheon. It took him a moment to actually walk up to them as he had shouted out to them from quite a ways away. Even from a distance, Sansa could tell the quality of material that Renly donned. 

These halls were where the more esteemed guests resided, like the Starks themselves, and were still mostly empty. It seemed to be too early for most to head down to the feasting hall. It was also not where Renly’s rooms were.

Dipping down to curtsy, Sansa as well as her companions greeted the king’s brother. 

“I am glad that we crossed paths here before the grand opening feast began. I felt like it would be best to properly get to know you. Other than the greetings in the hallways, we have not had a proper chat.”

Sansa definitely got the feeling that the Lord had a reason for stopping them so suddenly, but she would not directly ask him about it. “We would love to have a proper conversation to get to know you, Lord Renly. How are you doing today? Looking forward to the feast and tournament I assume?”

“You assume correctly my lady. This has been the longest my brother has gone without a major feast or tournament, I was starting to worry about his health.” Renly showed them his charming smile that caused many of the younger ladies at court to fawn over.

“I must say my lady that I love your simplistic braid, it does a great job of showcasing where you are from and highlighting your lovely red hair. Don’t tell this to anyone else, but I feel too many of the other ladies of the court do their best interpretation of a bird’s nest with their hair.”

It might not be the most appropriate thing to do, but Sansa laughed at his comment. Jon tensed under her hold.

“Ser Brynden, it is a shame you no longer visit the training yard. The quality of swordsmen definitely went down when you decided to leave them behind.”

“You flatter me Lord Renly. But the yard has become crowded, plus it is a place where some young boys tend to let their temper get the best of them.” Replied her Uncle. He shifted slightly, which for some might take as being uncomfortable being given such praise. But Sansa knew that it was just the discomfort that came from being forced into this unexpected conversation. 

“Well said Ser Brynden. This place has certainly become overcrowded. Everyone here is searching for something different. Fame, fortune, glory or power. Nearly all of them are selfish in their endeavors.”

Renly paused, eyes seeming to evaluate each of them, looking for something.

“But not you three. A bird told me how pure of heart your trip to our city has been. I want to let you know that I always respect those who try to help others.”

“What are you saying Lord Renly?” Questioned her Uncle, clearly trying to get to the point of this encounter.

“I am saying that I feel like I might be able to help you. As the Lord of Storm’s End and a member of my brother’s small council, I have access to things that many others do not. I would like to set up a meeting so we can talk and I can find out the best ways to lend my support.”

A small boy, trying his best to not run, stepped up to Renly’s side. He quickly passed a note off to the lord before retreating back down the hall. Silently the Baratheon looked over the message.

“I am sorry, but I am required elsewhere. I will send a note tomorrow to see if we can set up a meeting. I hope you each enjoy the festivities tonight.” Taking a half step forward, Renly gently graped Sansa’s free hand, and brought it up slightly so he could place a chaste kiss on her knuckles. As the man planted his kiss, Sansa snuck a glance at Jon. His face reminded her of the stone statues of the kings of winter found in the crypts.

As a child, a younger Sansa would have blushed madly if the King’s younger brother blessed her with a kiss. But today she just gave him a modest smile and dipped her head. 

Jon was as tense as a bowstring. His face still set in stone as he stared a hole into the back of Renly’s retreating head.

—------------------------------------------

The feast was everything that Sansa hoped a grand tournament meal would be. The food was bountiful and of the highest quality. The musicians had unquestioned talent and there was plenty of merriment to go around. Though a few things kept Sansa from enjoying it to the extent that most others seemed to.

While she knew it was not possible, she wished that there was some way to take the excess food and send it north to those that could actually use a good meal. It was a little shocking to see so much food left untouched. Another issue is that they did not make much headway in the form of setting up potential business deals with the new arrivals. Sure a few conversations with Lords showed that there was the possibility for business to be had, but they were far from certain.

The last problem for Sansa was that she only had one dance with Jon. They had come to the conclusion beforehand that it was better if they kept their contact to a minimum.

But Sansa did not find herself lacking for dance partners. Outside of her uncle, Sansa danced with Prince Joffery, Loras Tyrell, Renly Baratheon and many more lords from all over the realm. Sansa had a hard time keeping track of the other highborn ladies, but it seemed like Margaery Tyrell was the only one to exceed her time spent on the dancefloor. 

Which is why her feet felt like they could pop out of her shoes at any moment. Leaning back in her chair, Sansa brought her glass up to her lips and took a sip of her wine. This was only her third cup of Arbor gold and Sansa felt a pleasant warmth in her as the drink went down. Sansa felt that she had done a good job to not become drunk like many of the other lords and ladies. Well those that were still left anyway. Sure this was more than her normal amount, but nowhere near as many cups as most have had.

A decent number of the men seemed to have a woman on their lap or sidled up next to them. The King himself had grabbed his current girl a few songs ago, Sansa could not remember how many songs had passed at this point. Many of them, including the King, seemed to have wandering hands with their partners. A part of Sansa felt disgusted at viewing such open inappropriate actions, but that voice seemed smaller than it normally was. 

Turning to her left, Jon still sat with his arms crossed as he looked out at the dwindling number of dancers. His brooding has only gotten worse as the night has gone on. It is even worse than it was a few songs ago. Could it be that he is jealous of the attention I received? A giggle bubbled up before Sansa even knew it was there. Jon seemed surprised by her outburst, which caused her to let out another string of it. For the first time in hours, Jon blessed her with a slight smile before returning his gaze back to those around them.

“Sansa, Jon are ready to head back to our rooms?” Tilting her head up, Sansa saw that her uncle had returned from his conversation that he had been having with some other older knights. 

Jon started to answer before stopping and looking at her. Sansa felt the pull to stay and continue to enjoy the festive atmosphere, but her energy was waning and her feet were killing her. Reluctantly she agreed to retire for the evening.

Standing up Sansa turned towards Jon, only to have her uncle slid between them. Releasing a huff of air, she accepted his offered arm. 

Slowly her uncle led them out of the now less than packed hall. The music and merriment dwindled with every step they took. For the most part the halls were empty, save for the occasional lord and lady. Seemingly all too soon, Ser Brynden was pushing open their door and showing her into their common area. The door closing behind Jon.

“I feel it best if we all get a good night's sleep. You can sleep in as I don’t think many people in the castle will be doing much in the morning. Jon we will still go over forms and be viewing those fighters we already discussed down at the training yard tomorrow.”

“Of course Ser, I will be ready.”

With a stilted nod, her uncle retreated to his room, leaving Jon and her alone.

Sansa became aware of the fire that bathed the room in light and heat. Being from the north meant they had no such need for the extra warmth, but oftentimes the servants still came and lit it for them. The only sound that occupied the room came from the crackle of the wood. It reminded Sansa of home.

“Well, I better turn in for the night.” Jon’s voice broke her out of her thoughts.

Before she knew what she was doing, Sansa heard herself speak “Jon wait.”

Having only taken a step, he paused and looked back at her. Scrambling to come up with something, she asked him the first thing that came to her mind.

“Did you enjoy the feast tonight?”

“It was ok, some things could have been better about it.”

“Could one of those things be me not dancing with so many people?”

Jon turning his head away from her was all the confirmation that she needed. He was jealous!

“Could you have been jealous of the attention I was getting from the other lords?”

He mumbled something, but it was too quiet for her ears. Sansa gave him a questioning hum from the back of her throat.

“Yes. I hated how they could dance with you over and over again, all those different lords who don’t even know you, don’t really care for you. While all I could do was sit there on that bench and watch. It is not fair. I know why we could not do more than the one dance, but I still wish we could have.” Jon make sure to keep his voice down, but Sansa could hear him clearly. 

Sansa felt her need to tease Jon evaporate, replaced by her own similar desires.

Both of them stood there, looking at one another, neither one seeming able to move. 

Jon heaved a sigh and turned his body back towards his door.

“I know how you feel. Each time I stepped out to dance, I was imagining what it would be like if we could just do what we want. Not fear the results that would come of it. None of them were you though, no matter how much I wished it was you instead of them.”

Slowly he turned to meet her gaze. Silently watching her.

“Well… I am free for a dance now. No other lords to get in the way or break us apart.” She said.

Bringing himself to stand before her, Jon smiled and held up his arms. With confidence Sansa stepped up and placed her hands in his, matching his smile.

Chapter Text

Ch 25. Jon VII

June 301

The sky was dark and the remnants of dinner had long been removed. Brynden had retired for the evening more than half an hour ago. Sansa was quick to do the same. But not Jon. His mind and his nerves keep him going. The thought of messing up or performing poorly, is a constant companion for him on this cloudless night.

He had rearranged the chairs to allow him to go over his footwork and forms. It was the only thing that made sense for him to do. There was still plenty of time left in the night to get quality sleep, but at this rate Jon was not sure if he would actually get any.

Stepping back in front of a stone wall, Jon positioned himself to have another go. Feet set and sword firmly grasped. With precision that only comes from great teaching and hours of training, he moved forward about the room sliding his feet and slicing down and then back up with his weapon. Lunging forward at his unseen imaginary opponent. Reaching the opposite wall, he paused to calm himself. 

During the respite, Jon glanced at his companion who had made themselves comfortable on the small couch during. Ghost’s red eyes tracking his every move, each trip around their common space. Eyes that seemed to be desiring for them to go to their actual bed and get some sleep. Sleep that his buzzing mind would not grant him. His body was willing, but Jon could not push past his thoughts.

I wish I had my dragon egg, the warmth from it is always like a balm to me. Maybe it would help me to cease my endless worries and thoughts.

It was one of the first times Jon had freely thought about the other half of his heritage. Sure stray thoughts sprung up. How his grandfather sat on the throne here and decided the fate of so many innocence from it. That somewhere in these halls, his half sister and brother were killed alongside their mother. But he stamped those down quickly.

But his egg… It would be useful in this current moment. He never talked about it to anyone. Not Sansa, Arya or even his mother Catelyn. The lingering fear of sounding mad kept his lips shut. Though the dragon egg seemed to always help him after a stressful day or when he was nervous about things to come. It calmed him. 

But right now all he could do was practice for tomorrow’s melee.

Jon ready himself to go again, when a door opened. Blue eyes stared questioningly out at him. 

“Jon, what are you still doing up?” Sansa’s soft voice asked.

Lowing his sword, Jon first glanced at Ghost before answering.

“I could not sleep… my mind is just… working too fast for it to happen.”

Sansa studied him for a moment before closing the distance some. “Are you training to tire yourself out more in the hope to sleep or to calm your mind to sleep?” 

“In the hope to calm my mind. Not sure if it is working though.” 

“Is there anything else that could help you?” 

Jon opened his mouth to reply with the thought that sprung up. Being with you brings me a sense of calm. But decided against it. He did not want to put that pressure on Sansa. Plus there were some instances where being with Sansa had the opposite effect…

“What have you done in the past to help?” Sansa spoke up again as Jon had failed to reply. 

Releasing a sigh, he spoke on the item that had popped up earlier. “My egg has helped in the past.” Whispered Jon. Briefly he reached out to make sure no one was near. The last thing he wanted to do was cause people to start looking into his past. 

Sansa did not need clarification. Instead she nodded for him to continue.

“I don’t know how to describe it. It can help me feel grounded… Fills me with a sense of warmth. In a way that is similar to Ghost, but also entirely different.” 

Humming, Sansa nodded along as he spoke. Letting him ramble. Reaching a conclusion on her own. Sansa grabbed his hand and led him over to the couch. She bids him to sit and wait while she retreats back to her room. Ghost drops from the couch and heads off after his cousin, likely to visit Lady. 

A moment later she returns her hands behind her back and sits down next to him. As she sunk down into the cushion, Sansa dropped her head and leaned on Jon’s shoulder. 

Jon releases a deep breath, a little of his anxiety goes with it.

Sansa takes his right hand and wraps both of her hands around it. Jon brings his left around and stokes Sansa’s knuckles. His thumb follows each rig and valley, back and forth. 

They had shared several moments together now, but none of them felt this tender. Jon wished for more to come. The way they melted together, basking in the warmth together, leaning on one another. 

“I meant to give this to you tomorrow, but I think now might be a better time.” 

Jon continued to rub one of Sansa’s hands while the other extracted itself to grab something at her side. 

“I made this for you. To wear tomorrow that is.” She brought her hand up between them to show the object she retrieved. “I hope it brings you luck tomorrow.” 

A white handkerchief with a singular gray direwolf caught in the act of running. Even to Jon’s untrained eye, the quality was unmistakable. The time and effort spent making this was clear to see. 

Gently, Jon took this piece of fabric and inspected it more closely, running his fingers over the stitch work.

“Sansa this is… lovely. This is incredibly done. Your work is always amazing, but this stands above.” His awe bleeding through his words. 

Extracting himself slightly, Jon turned so he could face her a little more head on. For a moment, just staring deeply into the blue pools that were her eyes. 

“Thank you Sansa.” Momently he paused, trying to build up his courage. 

Swallowing a lump, he forged on. “Would you bless me with a kiss? So I can show my gratitude?” 

Wordlessly Sansa nodded. 

Slowly Jon leans forward until his lips meet Sansa’s. Just like the first time, and the handful between then and now, a fire ignited at the point of contact between their lips and took over his whole body. The fire begged for more. 

Trying to remain tender, Jon hesitantly pushed a little more. A pleasant, beautiful, hum rumbled from Sansa and she reacted in kind by pushing back into him. With one hand available, Jon lightly gripped her shoulder, feeling a need to have more contact with the woman who held his heart. 

This was nothing like anything they had done. 

The fire settled in his belly and grew in intensity. Both of them were starting to make small sounds from their mouths. Mouths which were locked together. 

In unison, they pulled back. Both gasping for breath.

Still gasping for breath, Jon scrambled to explain himself and apologized to the person he had said he would properly court. “Sansa I am… sorry for that… I did not plan to do that… I just… I-“

“It’s ok Jon. I… like it.”

Jon was sure that his face was showing the same embarrassment that Sansa’s had. 

A silence settled over them. Part embarrassment over how they acted but also twinged with a buzz. 

Clearing his throat, Jon spoke to try and break their spell. “Well, I think it best if we retire for the night.” 

“Will you be able to fall asleep?”

“I think you helped put my mind at ease when it comes to tomorrow.” Jon lifted her favor up slightly and ran his thumb over the top of it.

“Good” Sansa replied with a smirk. 

He leaned in once more, giving her a chaste kiss, and softly whispered a goodnight. 

—------------------------------------------

With a tug, the last of his armor was secured, Sansa’s favor hidden away on his upper arm. Jon had opted for lighter armor, leather armor with some chainmail underneath. Double checking that his sword was also secured, he stepped out of the tent and walked over to a waiting Brynden Tully. The knight was in his personalized armor, which was reminiscent of fish scales.

The man turned to Jon as he stopped next to him. Jon watched as his mentor gave him a once over, no doubt checking that Jon was ready to go.

“You remember all that we have talked about, correct?”

“Stick to the edges, avoid those not using a sword, don’t engage with the bigger fish and if possible watch each other’s backs.”

The Blackfish gave a single nod before walking in the direction of the melee arena.

Brynden had gone over the plan at least a dozen times with Jon over the last two days. He knew exactly who the “big fish” were. Jon thought that the knight enjoyed getting to work in his house sigil by categorizing their main competition as such. He would stay away from them in the hopes that some of them would be taken care of before he was forced to start facing them.

Ser Brynden had said that young fighters often fell into the trap of chasing glory by trying to take out all major competitors. But the knight had drilled it into Jon that he could not succumb to that. He could still remember what Brynden had said to him. “ It did not matter who you defeated, just that you last as long as possible .”

Both Jon and the Blackfish came to a spot a few paces away from the gate which would lead into the arena. The fighting area was a circular space that had been finished the same day as the opening feast had been held. The wooden fence came up to Jon’s chest and had just the four gates so the participants could enter and exit the arena. Spaced out around were a few different stands for people to sit while viewing the melee. 

Jon tried to spot Sansa amongst the crowd, but it was not easy to pick apart the spectators who were on the far sides of the arena. While he knew that Jory would be sitting right next to her, the lingering thoughts of her being vulnerable to other lords disgruntled him. As a group they had decided it was best to leave the direwolves back in their rooms. The reason being that while the wolves are well behaved, they might jump into the melee if they thought that Jon or even Ser Brynden were in trouble. Which would put them in harm's way and it could have some very bad consequences if they hurt or killed someone. So they left them behind.

But right now Jon wished that Sansa was at least able to have Lady by her side.

The gates being opened were heralded by a horn blast. In a steady stream, people started to enter the battlefield. Jon stuck to the back of the Blackfish as he directed them to a section between two gates. 

His heart rate started to rise and the grounds became more and more packed. Spinning his sword in his hand, Jon’s eyes tried to pick out where some of the heavy hitters were located. Mentally he tried to formulate a plan of where they should and should not go.

“Breath Jon, breath. Keep yourself under control and pace yourself. You can’t win the melee at the first horn blast, but you can lose it.”

Taking a deep breath, Jon flicked his eyes to Ser Brynden and nodded.

There were one hundred and six participants. The arena was large enough to provide some space between contestants, but not much. If they could survive past the initial chaos, they would have the freedom to move more, which would favor Jon.

The gates closed and the tension rose in and around the fitting pit. Everyone holding their breath, waiting.

A booming voice called out from above them.

“Herald, blow your bloody horn! I want to see some fighting for gods’ sake.”

One more breath in, and out.

On Jon’s exhale, a long horn blast was released. 

Steel in every direction leapt into action.

A figure with cobbled together armor lunged at Jon. Bringing his sword up Jon block the attack and shoved it to the side. The man stayed on the offensive with a slash. Stepping back, Jon let the sword fly by him, letting his attacker to overextend himself.

Bringing his blunted sword down hard on the shoulder, Jon caused the man to stumble. Dogging one more wild swing allowed Jon to step inside the man’s defenses and place his weapon at this neck.

“Yield!”

His opponent locked eyes on the sword before glazing over at Jon himself.

“I yield.” with a sigh, the man kept his hand raised as he walked off the field, signaling he was out of the fight. 

Quick and efficient, good.

Jon kept his eyes on the man, but opened up his senses to “see” what was happening around him. A man with a shield, in what had to be full armor due to his size, was charging directly at his back. Jon waited another second, allowing his new opponent to commit to his strike. The man clearly thought he was catching Jon unaware. Jon bent his knees.

As the sword was brought up high, Jon jumped to his right. The knight, realizing Jon would be out of his limited reach, tried to shift his downward slice, but it was no use. 

The fighter and his strike were both off balance. The sword dug into the dirt and sand that littered the arena floor. Jon slapped his blade down on top of the other's thin edge.

With all of the momentum the knight had, the tip being in the dirt, plus Jon adding his own pressure, the knight lost his grip on his sword. Leaving him with just his shield. 

Kicking the sword away, Jon began to circle his weaponless foe. 

Jon would have liked to try and find the perfect opening, but the fear of someone else trying to take him down from behind forced his hand. While he knew it would not be honorable for someone to attack him at this current moment, Brynden Tully made him aware that not everyone here would fight with honor. 

Jon attacked in a flurry of quick swings from every possible direction. The knight tried to shrink behind his shield, only once trying to push Jon away with it. With his opponent trying to hide behind his shield, his eyes stopped tracking Jon. This was what he was hoping for.

Reaching with his off hand, Jon pulled the defensive object down with all of his might. Swiftly, and slightly awkwardly, Jon flung his weapon up and slapped the metal helmet. He was able to easily spin to the man’s side to once again place his sword at the oppositions slightly exposed neck. Again Jon heard his opponent yield to him. 

Taking a breath to center himself, Jon took in the fighting going on around him. Sensing that a duel had concluded near his left, Jon went on the offensive. While trying to keep himself open to what was happening around him, Jon let himself focus on what was directly in front of him.

Falling into a rhythm, Jon made quick work of the knight in front of him and the next two after that. The first lacked proper form and was sloppy. The next due to bad footwork which led to Jon tripping him. The last was too tired to put up much of a fight.

Jon took in the field of battle as his fifth opponent walked off. There seemed to be one and ten fighters still standing. All of them being engaged at the moment.

Where is Ser Brynden? To Jon’s shame, once the horn blew, he had lost track of him. Everything moved so fast and the need to defend himself kicked in. I should have at least kept my senses open to him. Instead I acted like a green boy on this battlefield!

Taking a moment to breathe, which allowed him to focus on each individual fighter. Jon’s began sensing the build of each one and how they moved. But everything was ramped up and moving so quickly.

Speaking out loud, he willed himself to slow down “Focus… Focus. Where are you?”

There, about a quarter of the arena away was his mentor, currently fighting off two opponents at once.

Jon quickly closed the distance, throwing himself at the nearest attacker.

The man must have seen him out of the corner of his eye, because as Jon swiped down at his sword arm, the man's body shifted. Meaning that the strike only landed on his shoulder and not his arm.

Jon kicked himself mentally. If he had made contact with the arm, the fighter's sword would likely be in the dirt and the fight would be over.  At least Brynden Tully was no longer under an onslaught from two people.

I guess I will take what I can get.

The man recovered quick enough to block the next strike, but Jon stayed on the offensive. Jon feinted a swipe low, creating an opening when his opponent thought he could directly block the attack. Spinning the sword back up and around, Jon slashed the padded shoulder he had already hit.

The audible cry told Jon all that he needed to know, this fight was all but over. 

Raining down hard and fast, Jon beat the defenses down until the man could no longer keep his blade up. As Jon went for one more overhead strike, the man dropped to a knee and raised his arms up over his head. His sword lay in the dirt beside him.

Painting, the man exclaimed his yield. It was only when the man talked did Jon discern who he was. He was Ser Patrek from the crownlands. Him and his brother both were among the “bigger fish.”

“Bloody took you long enough.” Turning he faced the man from house Tully.

“Sorry about that I got-, are you bleeding?” It was a stupid question by Jon. He could clearly see the red river flowing down from the Blackfish’s nondominant hand.

“Unfortunately. That boy you sent off caught me good as his brother was crossing blades with me. Bloody fools got it in the end though.”

“I am so sorry. If I had just stuck to the plan I could have stopped them from ganging up on you and now you are injured. Fuck!”

“Lad quit it. Plans always go to shit when the battle actually starts. It is in the past, if you allow yourself to dwell on it, it will cost you. Let's get back out there and finish the job.”

Steeling himself, Jon titled his head up and gave a firm nod.

Reaching out as he turned around, Jon realized that the total number of participants left was eight, including themselves. Two of them, both from houses that came from the Vale, were waiting for them.

“Take the one on the left, I will take the right.”

Nodding once more, Jon stalked over to his new adversary. As the man came within range of his eyesight, Jon saw that his opponent had a chestplate of bronze. Ser Robar Royce.

Being the son of a great fighter, Yohn Royce, one would expect him to be of the highest caliber when it comes to swordplay. And people would be right about that assumption. The knight before him was one of the few that Ser Brynden marked as a potential winner for the melee.

Jon’s mind shifted once more to recall the weaknesses about Robar. His blade is always precise and he has the footwork to match. But when he feels that he has a fight in hand, he starts to become flashy. That is likely the best weakness that we will be able to exploit. The voice of his mentor coming back to him. If Jon could not find a weakness on his own, he would fall back to Ser Brynden’s idea.

Twirling his weapon once, Jon lunged forward to start their bout. Ser Robar met his blade and pushed it aside.

Blade up and sliding back, Jon prepared for the onslaught. The knight flung his sword low then high. Switching Robar followed it up with a diagonal slash that forced Jon to keep his defenses tight.

Taking another step back, Jon’s plan was to create space for an offensive move, but it was not to be. Royce’s seemed to be trying to keep the half Stark from even getting any offensive attacks off.

Jon dodged and parred the next two blows. His second attempt to retaliate, once again could not happen due to a quick thrust.

Come on, think! I need to change tactics, I will make him think he has the win at hand. But at this rate I might be unable to actually lull him into a false sense of victory without actually losing!

Deciding to reach out, Jon found another fight taking place close by. It was Ser Brynden dueling his opponent.

A quick slide and jump backwards put him a little closer to that duel. Jon readied himself for the next attack, but with the plan to close the distance between the two different fights.

Another block, dodge and parry closed the gap. All the while watching Robar’s eyes to see if he saw the pair of fighters that they were now approaching.

Finally the knight took his own step back, seemingly to catch his breath. Jon’s own heart was thundering like a horse and he swiped the sweat that covered his face. But he saw it.

For a split moment the knight’s eyes went past Jon and his mouth quirked up.

As expected, Robar attacked fast and hard. Each time made Jon take one step back. 

But Ser Robar Royce had fallen into a rhythm. One slice after another, seemingly content with Jon slowly giving ground.

Jon split his focus, keeping track of the other duel. Ser Brynden was clearly winning and it would not be long before the other man was in the dirt. Jon would have to play this just right.

It took two more attacks by Robar for the Blackfish to send his man down to the ground. Robar picked up the pace.

Jon allowed himself to be directed right towards the downed fighter, but he could see the change in the knight’s fighting style. Longer swings, a twirl and slightly more (and unnecessary) footwork being added in.

Three more steps before Jon would be standing over the prone man. Then two. One.

With what Royce thought would be finally attack, he slashed across hard at Jon’s left side. But found that Jon kept their blades locked, not giving up his normal ground.

They both knew who was the stronger of the two, and it was not the young man from the north. The knight pushed once, but found no success. Jon smirked as their eyes found one another. 

For a moment the pressure on Jon’s sword lessened, until Robar Royce shoved his shoulder behind his blade, creating more power than Jon could handle.

But instead of stepping back like he had been, Jon leaped over the downed man. A man that Robar thought he had no way of knowing about.

The sudden lack of resistance caused Royce to stumble forward. Normally it would only take a two or three steps for someone to recover from a move like that, but Robar Royce did not have that luxury. 

Taking one more step off to the side, Jon watched as the man’s face slammed into the ground as his sword flew out of his grip. He gently lay his sword tip down at the exposed neck. 

“Do you yield Ser Robar?” Jon asked between his gulps of air.

The sand and dirt muffled the reply, but Jon was able to understand him.

From behind a slightly amused voice called out to him. “That was a neat trick lad.”

The man in question wore leather armor that was stained red. It appeared to have seen many battles. Or maybe it was just old. The man’s beard framed his smirk, though it was not malicious. While Jon had not seen this man practicing in the lead up to the melee, it could only match the description of one man, the red priest Thoros of Myr. The Blackfish had warned Jon about him.

“Would you like to see my trick?”

Not waiting for a reply, the man ran his hand up the steel of his sword. Where his hand went, flames followed.

Involuntarily the Stark took a step back. Witnessing it in person was very different from hearing the stories that had followed the Greyjoy Rebellion. 

He needed to recompose himself.

The sword in his hand weighed as much as a mule now, but Jon raised it between him and the priest.

I should be patient when facing a new enemy, but if I don’t end this quickly… I might not be the one to end it or have energy for the next.

In a flash, the flaming steel was slashing at him. Jon’s mind focused on one thing, not letting the fire touch him. Totally on the backfoot, it was all Jon could focus on.

But evading and deflecting would not win him the match. Their blades momentarily locked. The heat coming off the opponent's weapon drew his gaze. The fire creeped forward as the pressure put on by Thoros began to win out. 

Angling his blade, Jon let the flaming weapon slide off to his left while he jumped the other way. As he momentarily glided above the dirt, he flicked his wrist out, straining himself.

The sword tip, while blunt, cutting into the back padding of Thoros.

Thoros turned with his flaming blade held high. With a sigh, Jon realized his hit did not go past the armor of the priest.

Thoros smiled and nodded towards Jon, one in which he returned.

For a moment they both circled each other. Jon more than happy to do so, taking the moment to recover.

Once more the priest sprung into action first swinging high then low. Jon parred and dodged.

A thrust from the flaming weapon caused Jon to stumble back and away. Instinct once more took over.

Jon reacted to the slash coming in on his left and moved to block it. Only to realize that he fell for a fake. Steel coated in fire now on a collision course with his eyes.

Dropping low, avoiding the attack. But not the foot to his chest.

The kick was hard and so was the ground.

It took a moment, in which Jon was laying on his back, to realize that Thoros expected him to react the way he did, and had his kick preplanned. 

Groaning Jon picked his head up off the ground, a flaming sword a breath away.

“I yield.”

“You fought well lad, in a few years you would have won this fight. Keep your head up.” With the blade no longer in his face, Jon was able to see the red priest as he spoke. There was no mocking behind the words. It might have been tinged with respect, but Jon was too tired to try and decipher that.

Jon let his head fallback as he focused on sucking down air, his heart pounding out of his chest.