Jon Snow & Sansa Stark - Game of Thrones Fanfiction

A court of distrust and doubt

Sansa stared at the endless snow stretching out in front of her for as far as she could look. More and more flakes fell down on the tapestry, but despite the cold Sansa refused to close the window. Maybe she had never endured a Westeros Winter before, but up here in the north it had always been much colder than anywhere else. Sansa was used to the cold. She even enjoyed the cold.

It was not the cold bothering her. It was Jon bothering her. It was Jon's absence bothering her.

During the last couple of months she had barely seen him. He had gone from meeting to meeting, from one trip to far away places to another, from one problem that needed solving to another. And even when he was home he had barely spent any time with her. He hadn't had dinner with her, because some important somebody had something urgent to discuss. He hadn't slept in their shared bed during the night, because he hadn't had time to do the paper work during the day.

He was the king in the North. He was the wolf beating the lions. He was the only man who could reunite people who couldn't stand each other before. Maybe he indeed had so much to do. Maybe he indeed didn't have time to eat or sleep.

Or maybe he was simply coming up with excuses to hide that he was seeing someone, someone else, someone who wasn't Sansa.

Strangely enough, Sansa couldn't blame him for it.

They had not married out of love. They had not had those cute moments of stolen glances and secret longing. He had not courted her. She had not swooned over him. He was the king in the North and he needed a northern bride, a Stark bride, to strengthen his claim.

And still she did blame him for it. She did blame him for not working harder to make this marriage work. She did blame him for not realizing that one of the reasons he had to marry her, was to strengthen the claim of his children, their children. She did blame him for not realizing that he had to produce a heir and that he wouldn't achieve that by avoiding her, by sleeping with some wildling girl, by fulfilling his physical needs anywhere but here, with her.

But most of all she blamed him for letting her fall in love with him and not loving her back.

"Lady Snow?" Samwell Tarly cleared his throat. "I tried to knock, but you didn't hear it. I was afraid..." He paused for a moment. "Are you okay?" He cocked his head, too afraid to come closer and act like the friend Sansa would actually want him to be.

"Can I ask you something about Jon?" Sansa stood up from her seat. She placed her book, that she had barely read, opened on the small table next to the window. "I understand that you're loyal to him and will always defend him, but..." Sansa hesitated. "Is he really this busy? Or is he just avoiding me? Does he have someone else? A wildling girl?"

Sam swallowed and he stuck the tip of his tongue between his lips.

"You don't need to answer anymore, you just did." Sansa let out a deep sigh and bent her head. She closed her eyes to fight the burning tears. She wouldn't cry in front of Samwell Tarly. She wouldn't show him how hurt she was, how heartbroken. She wouldn't admit that Jon had become so much more than the man she had been forced to marry.

"O, no, Lady Sansa!" He rarely used her first name and his cheeks heated up when he did so. "It's not what you think, really. Jon is...Lord Snow is..." Sam scratched the back of his neck. "He's the most loyal man I've ever met. He'd never do something like that. I swear."

Sansa looked up at him and when her eyes met his she saw something she couldn't fully understand. Fear? Discomfort? Signs of lying? "Of course you say that. Jon is your friend. You'd never say something bad about him. It's an admirable quality. An annoying one, but admirable."

"Lady Snow..." Sam coughed again. "Jon sent me here. Please, come with me and see for yourself." He held out his hand and offered Sansa his arm to escort her to who knew where.

For a moment Sansa contemplated telling Sam that she had no time to see Jon, that she had paperwork to look at, that she had orders to give out, that she had to look in the kitchen if the servants were doing what she had asked them to do. For a moment she thought about faking a headache or stomach pain so she could curl up in her bed and cry in her pillow. But a little voice in the back of her mind kept her from doing so and she accepted his arm.

In absolute silence they walked through the corridors. They crossed the courtyard and walked through the gate. Sansa felt a shiver rolling down her spine, but her eyes widened when they reached the Godswood.

"I..." Sam stood still, a few meters away from the glow coming from the holy tree. "I have to go back to the castle. You won't be alone for long, I promise." Sam bent his head slightly before he turned around and rushed back to Winterfell.

"Sansa?" Jon wore the cloak Sansa had made for him. His dark black curls were tamed, bound together with dark black leather. He looked tired. He had dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks were red from the cold wind blowing in his face.

"What are we doing here? Did you want to pray?" Sansa walked towards him. She saw the burning fire, the boards filled with food. Meat, fish, fruits, nuts, all the things she liked and all the things she hadn't gotten in a very long time because the cold winter had finally arrived. "What's this?"

"It's for you." Jon walked towards her and he placed his hands on her shoulders. "I know I've been away too much lately. I've left you here alone, without asking if that was okay and how you were doing." He paused for a moment. "This is me making time for you. This is me giving you what you deserve."

Sansa stared at him for a moment and then the tears finally rolled down her cheeks. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't stop them anymore.

"Sansa?" Jon furrowed his eyebrows. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No..." Sansa could barely speak and she grabbed his coat and pulled him towards her. "No, those are happy tears. I'm happy because you did nothing wrong." She bent down a little and pressed her lips on his and a little reluctantly Jon wrapped his arms around her while he kissed her back.

"I'm really sorry, Sansa." Jon whispered before he kissed her again.

"Don't be..." Sansa eventually stepped back. Her eyes stung from all the crying and her lips burned from all the kissing. "You're the king in the North. The people need you."

"I know." Jon spoke softly. "But I need you. I'm the king in the North, but you're my queen. I can't do this without you, Sansa. I don't want to." He held out his hand and Sansa placed hers in it. With slow steps he lead her towards the fire and he helped her to sit down on the plaid.

Sansa was surprised how comfortable it was, especially when Jon sat down next to her and their hips touched.

"Are you alright?" Jon reached for Sansa's hand and squeezed it.

"Yes, yes now I am." Sansa replied. The glow of the fire made Jon's eyes even more beautiful than she remembered them to be. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you, I'm sorry I..." Sansa paused.

"It's okay, Sansa, you can be honest with me." Jon nodded at her. "Please, always be honest with me. I want to at least have one person who says what she really thinks when I'm around."

"I thought you were seeing someone else." Sansa bent her head to avoid Jon's glance, but Jon grabbed her face and forced her to look back up at him.

"You're the only one I want, Sansa. You're the only one I need. And I promise I'll make sure you'll believe me." Jon leaned towards her and Sansa closed her eyes when his lips touched hers.

"Jon..." Sansa pushed him away again and her eyes met his.

"Yes?"

"I love you." Sansa bit her lip. "And not because I have to, but because I want to."

Jon smiled and he kissed her again and again. "I don't think you'll love me as much as I love you."

"No." Sansa replied and she pushed Jon on his back in the snow. "I love you more." She straddled him and folded his cloak open.

"No." Jon hissed between his teeth. "I love you most."