Jon Snow & Sansa Stark - Game of Thrones Fanfiction

Damsel in shining Armor

"Don't leave your right flank open." Jon moved his sword without much effort, or so it seemed at least. "And never take your eyes off of your opponent." He jumped to the left en turned around to avoid her abrupt and clumsy attempt to fight back. "Stay in control of your body." He jumped back and a few millimeters from her head he stopped her sword. "Or you'll be dead within seconds." A smile spread across his face and he placed the tip of his sword in the sand. "You're getting better, though."

Sansa raised her eyebrows and she bent down to breath in and out. Her muscles burned and every breath felt like a battle. Her heart hammered against her ribs and she swallowed a few times to prevent herself from getting rid of her late lunch.

When Jon fought it looked so easy. It almost seemed as if he was dancing instead of fighting. It was beautiful and gracious. It was a form of art.

She knew it was unfair to compare herself to him. After all, he had been fighting his entire life and she had just started her first lessons, but still. She felt clumsy and stupid. Her muscles were too weak to balance the sword properly and therefore she constantly lost her balance. She needed all her concentration to not accidentally hurt herself, while she actually had to focus on her opponent instead.

It was nice of him to say that she was getting better, but he was obviously just trying to keep her motivated. And it was not really working.

"You just say that because you love me." Sansa rolled her eyes. "I still feel like a stupid damsel in distress who needs a man to fight her battles."

"You've just started your training. It's not something you can miraculously learn overnight." Jon grinned. "I've been holding a sword since birth. Robb got one even before he was born. You never got one from your father."

"I could have asked for one." Sansa whispered. "Arya did. She can defend herself in battle, while I'm defenseless against anyone who wants to harm me."

Jon placed his hands firmly on her shoulders and shook her. "Can you please just stop that?" He looked straight into her eyes and Sansa felt a shiver rolling down her spine. "You're not defenseless in battle. You're not a bad fighter. And you're not a damsel in distress." He sighed. "Yes, Arya knows how to use a sword and you don't, but without you I'd be dead by now, okay?"

Sansa raised her eyebrows. "I asked Littlefinger for help where you didn't want to. That's literally all I did."

"And it was the difference between winning and losing." Jon pressed the palm of his hand to her cheek. His hand sweated a little, but it was comforting and warm and Sansa closed her eyes to enjoy his touch for a short moment. "You knew Ramsay and the tricks he played and you tried to warn me. And I didn't listen."

Sansa shook her head. "What are you suggesting now? That I'm intelligent and smart? That I know how to read people? And how is that gonna help me when some brute with a sword comes for me?"

Jon curled his lips up into a smile. "Fighting is not just about brute force." Jon stepped back again and reached for his sword. "If it was just about brute force, I'd be dead by now too."

Sansa smiled back at him. "Are you now joking about your own height?"

When he had left Winterfell to go to the wall, she had had to look up at him. Now she was a few inches taller, even on her bare feet.

So much had changed ever since then, when the world had still been beautiful and innocent and safe, but luckily not everything had changed for the worst.

Because at that time, she had never thought that Jon Snow would turn out to be exactly the prince charming her father had promised her.

"I'm telling you that your intelligence will give you an advantage in battle." Jon nodded and Sansa kneeled down to get her sword again.

The cold iron became heavier and heavier with each second that passed, mostly because her muscles grew more and more tired. But she bit her lip and gathered all her courage and strength to focus one more time.

"Don't lean on your force or power." Jon started moving his sword, almost too fast for her eyes to register. "You don't need force or power to wound him." He slowed down a little and with her tongue between her slightly parted lips Sansa tried to block all his attempts at cutting her. "You just have to make it through his defenses." He narrowed his eyes and slowly he started to go faster and faster again. "Read me. Read my body language, my arms, my legs." He gave Sansa the time to let her glance wander over him before he moved his sword again. "Don't look at the sword, but at me. I've gotta prepare my movements. If you catch me preparing, you can block me and surprise me."

Sansa blocked a few more swings and concentrated on his muscles. She saw his arm tense, she saw how he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and after a while she started to recognize the patterns. And even though she could barely hold her sword anymore, she blocked him faster now, earlier.

His sword didn't come as close to her head anymore, to her skin, to her arms, to her legs. He could move faster and faster and still she could block him.

"And now the next step." Jon whispered, slightly out of breath. He had never been out of breath during a sword fight training with her before. "Surprise me and break through my defenses." He nodded at her and Sansa gathered all her willpower and concentrated even more.

She blocked his swings and combined the patterns in her head. Left, right, left, left, right, fight, low, high, left, right. She smiled when she realized she knew what his next move was gonna be and before he could start his movement she circled around him, seeing that he was balancing on his wrong foot to catch her in time.

The next second she held the tip of her sword to his throat. "And dead." She screamed and she dropped her sword on the ground at her feet. "I did it!" She fell down in the sand, her muscles and body too tired to carry her any longer. "I beat you!"

Jon placed his sword next to him and then he kneeled down in front of her. His hand grabbed her chin and with a proud smile he locked his glance with hers. "See?" He spoke softly and moved a little closer towards her. "It's not about being strong. It's about being smarter than your opponent. You can do and be that. You are that. You're smarter than almost everyone you will encounter, trust me."

"I do." Sansa nodded and she closed her eyes while she leaned in. "Although I don't think I'm ready yet to go to war with you." She paused for a moment. "I'm already exhausted after beating one opponent. Let alone ten. Or hundred."

Jon wrapped his arms around her and she felt a soft kiss on her forehead. "That's something we can work on." He tightened his grip. "You're gonna be the nightmare of every soldier, Sansa Stark."

"We." Sansa whispered. "We're gonna be the nightmare of everyone who dares to cross us."