Jon Snow & Sansa Stark - Game of Thrones Fanfiction

Being Queen

Sansa's heart raced in her chest while she let her eyes wander over all the people gathered in front of her. They carried notebooks and microphones and cameras and they all seemed eager to ask her a million questions she didn't want to answer.

What was there to say?

All her life she had dreamed about a crown on her head, knowing that she was made to be Queen. She had the brains, she had studied all the right subjects at college, she had participated in every political contest around the globe and had won more than a handful of them, she had never been bored when watching her father doing what he did best.

And when her older brother had fallen in love with a girl the government could not approve of, she had almost wrapped her arms around his neck to thank him for the amazing opportunity she had never thought she would get.

"Princess Sansa..." The prime minister cleared his throat. "Are you ready for their questions?"

Lesson one of being a Queen was showing vulnerability but never weakness. One tear rolling down her cheek would make her human. Crying millions of them would make her pathetic. So she plastered a smile on her face and nodded at the journalists. "Yes, I understand you have been waiting for me for quite some time. My apologies. I came as soon as I could."

Without saying goodbye to Jon. Jon, who had not realized she was the crown princess of Winterfell until she had told him about it. Jon, who had loved her for who she was and not for what she was. Jon, who had knelt down only two days ago, a rose golden ring with a small diamond in a black box in the palm of his hand.

"How did you react when you heard the news of your father?"

Sansa swallowed.

Of course they would get straight to the point. No easy beginnings. No softening things up. No mercy.

The smile on her face faltered. "I think I reacted like every daughter who loses her father unexpectedly and way before it should be his time. I cried. And then I realized that the Kingdom of Winterfell needs me and grabbed my essentials and caught the first flight back."

Robb had told her once that he found the idea of wearing the crown heavy already. He was afraid of the glass case around him, of the pressure, of always having to do the right thing and of always having to be the right person.

Sansa had never realized how true and justified his fear had been. If she had been a normal girl and daughter she would have ran to Jon. She would have buried her face in his shoulder and she would have wetted his shirt until it was soaked.

And he would have let her. He would have held her, pressed tightly to his broad chest. He would have kissed her bright red hair and he would have whispered how alright it was to feel this bad and horrible.

She hoped he had found her letter in her dorm already. And she hoped he would understand that when the period of mourning was over and when the country was in desperate need of something beautiful and festive, she would ask the government if she could marry Jon and make him her consort.

"Are you ready to take the crown and all the responsibilities coming with it?"

Sansa turned her face to another camera and another journalist. "I have been prepared for this moment my entire life. I've been attending meetings, advised my father and I studied every political subject Oxford had to offer." Sansa took a deep breath. " My father had wanted to show me the entire land so I could get to know everyone. I'm afraid I will have to do that journey on my own now."

She bent her head. She didn't even wear the crown yet and it felt like the entire earth rested on her shoulders. She knew this would pass. Once the worst of her grief would subside. Once she would settle into her role as Queen. Once the Kingdom would realize that she was good at this. But right now she felt more alone than she had ever felt in her entire life.