#jonsa gift exchange

[annachum]

Some Jonsa HCs ( post GOT series ) :

. After the GOT series, Sansa, Arya, Jon Snow and Bran all needed some time to heal from their traumas. Between their new positions and duties, and helping with repairing the North and the South after what Daenerys have done

. Sansa hosted a Grand winter ball at the Castle of Winterfell, and Bran hosted a Winter Ball at Kings Landing. They even sent dignitaries from those Realms to each other's winter parties to send each other gifts and well wishes. Jon Snow attended the Winterfell winter ball, and Arya attended both parties ( which are a day apart )

. It was spring when Sansa realizes that she is gradually growing feelings for Jon Snow.

. It came to her unexpectedly, like a gentle breeze tickling at her shoulder, instead of the avalanche of rush like she experienced with Loras

. Sansa struggled with her growing feelings with Jon Snow for a time. She seriously didn't want to end up dismally regarding Jon as she did sometime before

. Her ladies in waiting then soon noticed this and, with exchanging knowing smirks, decided to help their Queen out that

. It turns out Jon Snow has been gradually also developing feelings for the new Queen of North as well, yet he is also nervously that it may end dismally like with Daenerys, or with Ygritte, for the matter

. Jon Snow initially thought he wanted a more brazen adventuress to have drinks with him in a battle quest. It turns out that he needs someone who is calm and measured, and can offer him a real home.

. Sansa initially thought she wants a Prince Charming. It turns out she needs someone strong and loyal, like Jon Snow

. Jon Snow and Sansa began to gradually be more comfortable around each other - going from knight/Queen to something more.

. Eventually, it came to a point where, at one of Arya's visits to Winterfell the day before the Midsummer Ball, Arya noticed the growing chemistry between Jon and Sansa, and Arya helped hatch a plan with Jon and Sansa's attendants to give them an extra push to get them admit their feelings for one another.

. That plan is basically the Don Pedro plan from Much Ado About Nothing

. That night, after Jon Snow and Sansa heard the ' gossips ' they heard outside of their abodes ( orchestrated by Arya and those attendants in tow ), Jon Snow and Sansa are both elated and tremendously relieved that their gradual feelings for each other are reciprocated

. The next morning after that, Sansa soon found Jon Snow waiting for her outside the Winterfell castle, to accompany her to the Midsummer Festival Joust

. Blushing, Sansa agreed to that accompany offer

. That whole Midsummer Festival, Jon Snow is basically Sansa's date. Arya and Bran also witnessed the growing chemistry Jon and Sansa have for each other.

. The Midsummer Festivities included jousting, horse races, and also a spectacular masquerade ball at the castle ( with some entertainment there as well in tow )

. As the party went on, Jon Snow and Sansa snuck to the gardens of Winterfell to have a stroll together

. After gathering up their courage to confess each other of their love, Jon Snow and Sansa happily held each other in their arms, as Jon Snow spun an ecstatic Sansa around, before sharing their first kiss together

. While Jon Snow is often into battlefields or border guarding more often, Sansa is often more into diplomacy and cultural cultivation.

. Things changed since that first date. Sansa offers Jon Snow a real home and solace, Jon Snow offers her protection

. She remembered her old feelings for Loras, where she has jumpy nerves around him most of the time. With Jon Snow, it felt different - she feels comfortable and safe around him, and she can be fully herself around him

. Both soon got a knight and lady like relationship, and both be trying their damn best to help each other heal from traumas

. Sansa herself don't want much to do with Kings Landing again, because of traumas. However, she does manage to bring herself to attend diplomatic functions there when needed. Visiting Bran in those visits also helped with that

. Bran defo gave Jon Snow a, ' Hurt my oldest sister, and the wolves will be after you, ' speech. Arya also gave a similar speech to Jon.

. Jon vows to them that he will be Sansa's protector and worthy lover

. Eventually, Jon Snow and Sansa got engaged in a wintry day at Winterfell. They are on a horse riding winter date when Jon got down on one knee and proposed to her. Shedding happy tears, Sansa exclaimed yes and jumped into Jon's arms

. It was that next March when they got married, in that one spring where Winterfell starts to gradually melt away its heavy snow

. Several Dignitaries across the Seven Kingdoms showed up - that is not very common during those 7 years of the Game of Thrones

. Compared to her 2 previous weddings, Sansa is genuinely, incandescently happy at her 3rd one, finally being able to marry the one she really loves and eventually starting a family with him ( as she wished for a time since she was younger )

. In the wedding reception, it seems that a Dornish maiden has caught Bran's eye. Jon Snow, Arya and Sansa exchanged knowing smirks and know that they may help Bran at that eventually

. Its a miracle how, one can actually have real love coming to them when they stop looking for it. And that certainly happened with Jon Snow and Sansa. Even with the throes of chaos, they manage to find each other and eventually build a comfortable, real home for each other

[sherlokiness]

What would you say is your most controversial take when it comes to the ship of jonerys? How many do you have if I can ask?

Hi, anon! What do you mean by most controversial? The one where I get the most hated by Aegonys?

I would say that Dany's death by Jon is too tame for her level of villainy. My "controversial" take is that Sansa would kiss Jon's sword before he stabs Dany with it then give Sansa a "dragon's head" as a bride gift. There are two women (Ygritte and Dany) who has been the subject of "steel kiss" in the series as metaphor for death while the other is of Sansa literally kissing Joffrey's steel to "bless" it. I just think it'll be a neat conclusion to all the mention of steel kisses and wedding gifts as heads.

The second would probably PolJon or how Jonsa will save Villain Dany in the eyes of the readers. Remember Dany's Ultimate Hero Moment with the Unsullied? She got a free army(she sought out to buy but couldn't afford) and the moral high horse by acting like the hero. Her heroism absolutely did not cost her anything but even got a bargain in exchange. PolJon would mean that Jon would be killing a woman/monster who is conveniently in the way of marrying the love of his life. Killing Dany would make him free to marry Sansa and also have the moral high ground. Unlike Dany though, Jon would have sacrificed himself, his honor and love, for PolJon to work.

Dany's heroism(done with deceit and trickery)leaves a bitter taste in my mouth cause she got to have her cake and eat it too. But I can't say anything bc it was the right thing to do and they were monsters. Jon's heroism(done with deceit and trickery)will leave a bitter taste in lemon lovers mouth bc he'll get to have his cake and eat it too. They can't shouldn't say anything tho cause killing Dany would be the right thing to do and she's a monster.🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

[jonsaexchange]

“This filter suits you! I think you’d make a lovely King.”

“You only say that because I’m a humanities major. Your poli-sci degree would be more useful running a kingdom.”

“Between the two of us as King and Queen, I know we’d prosper.”

“In another lifetime, perhaps.”

For @tayl0crow by @broodybluebird

[amymel86]

“And weren’t mermaids a myth to you before you saw what you see now?” Ned asked.

Jon swallowed, his eyes returning to the red hair floating around the mermaid’s face. She smiled brightly as their eyes met and turned herself upside down so that her tail pointed skyward while she continued beaming at him through the glass. Ned chuckled. “She’s in a playful mood today. I think she likes you.”

Read the full fic on AO3 HERE

My Jonsa Gift Exchange gift for @doomeric - I hope that you like it!

@jonsaexchange

[wendynerdwrites]

Lemoncakes and Costumes

For @theasexualscorpio for the @jonsaexchange! I hope you liked this! I tried to incorporate some fun stuff.

His wife is a practical, effective stateswoman, a brilliant leader, and a consummate professional with a cynical-yet-hopeful approach to the world and how it works. She is a far cry from the naive, dreamy girl he knew as a boy. Not surprising, given the things she’s suffered, and how the events of her life have stripped so much of her girlish idealism from her.

But for all of her efficiency, skill, and power now, there is a part of the girl she was that has remained, and he’s all the happier for it.

There’s her love for lemoncakes, to the point where he’s begun calling her ‘Lemoncake’ when no one else is around. At first she takes offense, but Jon argues that it has a double meaning, since she’s sweet and tart, and delightful to eat as well as enamored of the dessert.

But Sansa Stark has retained her love for clothes, for fashion, and for stories. In his boyhood, Jon disdained that traditionally feminine interest, seeing it as silly.

He was the silly one. A foolish boy who knew nothing of the world. And not only because of all the practical ways such skills and interests could be applied (people need to be clothed, after all). But for another, entirely different reason.

Sansa isn’t overly extravagant. During the winter she pawned her jewels to pay for food and labor and cloth and metal. She donned wool and leather. When the war ended and spring arrived, she still waited to start dressing her station again until their people were reasonably back on their feet. And even now, when (thanks to many of her own efforts), the North prospers, she’s rarely particularly ostentatious. She still wears wools on regular occasions, with subdued jewelry. There are only two types of occasions in which she indulges herself in her sartorial pursuits. One is on special occasions when displaying the wealth and prosperity of the North and House Stark is necessary. And the other…

It’s a special, secret type of occasion that is as private as the other is public.

His wife and queen likes to dress up for him.

Perhaps that’s not exactly the right term for what she does behind closed (and barred) bedchamber doors. Indeed, it’s possible that no term including the word “dress” can properly describe this hobby of hers.

Whatever it is, it’s something she does that only a true man can appreciate, and a stupid boy couldn’t.

It started at their wedding, one of the few pre-victory occasions when Sansa dressed as the Queen she was. Jon banned the bedding ceremony, and the bride ended up retiring early to “prepare”. When Jon eventually made his way to her bridal chamber, he’d been a bit overcome.

One of her wedding gifts was a satin nightgown of ivory with a pale blue sash and trim at the neckline and hem. Nothing scandalous. The neckline was low and square, and the fabric was thin, but it was downright innocent looking.

And Jon couldn’t help but mumble, in his nervousness in approaching her that he thought her nightgown was pretty. She wore it every night after.

Jon never considered the way attire could enhance the experience of coupling until Sansa. Before, his experience was fumbling through the furs with Ygritte. But with his wife, he got to experience the thrill of pulling her bodice down just enough for her breasts to spill out and be exposed while the rest of her is covered. The fun he’d have teasing her cunny through thin, silken fabric, and watching it darken as she grew more and more wet. Or the sensation of certain fabrics against his skin. The sort of adventure that seemed to come with unwrapping a woman from a new ensemble, as if discovering her naked flesh anew. Or the way it would enhance his awareness of how she’s given him her maidenhead.

Ygritte was no maiden when he met her, and he didn’t care. But once with a maiden, with Sansa, he couldn’t help but feel humbled and lucky over being the one to do this with her. Especially after so many had tried to steal it from her. It’s not just the uniqueness of it, or a sense of possession he might have, but knowing that after so many years of having to guard it, she was giving it to, of all people, him.

And yes, that night, when she wore that virginal, sweet nightgown, it only enhanced the experience when he first entered her and felt that thin layer of flesh give way.

The nightgown was soiled, though. One morning after, Sansa threw it in her hamper and covered herself in one of Jon’s tunics. For whatever reason… A sort of boyish wildness that was suggested by her appearance, or maybe the knowledge that she was, in a way, draped in him, managed to inflame him even more.

That evening, he retired to his chamber to find his new wife wearing nothing but one of his combat jerkins, loosely laced.

Jon develops a certain liking for seeing his wife dressed up, even outside the bedroom, once the war ends. It screams of her femininity, her breeding, her elegance, and even their mutual accomplishments, in both ending the war and leading their people to prosper. He looks at her dressed in her best and thrills at the idea that this woman, as highborn, elegant, and sophisticated as they come, is his, and no one else’s. His wife. His queen. He loves her in a silk dress. And on his arm.

As it turns out, he also likes wearing some fine things. It makes him feel like a king. And he especially enjoys wearing fine things she’s made. It makes him feel like her king. Like she’s claimed him. It’s… thrilling.

Given how much effort fate has put into tearing them apart, he supposes that it’s only natural that they be a bit possessive and territorial with one another.

Things get more fun the more time goes on and the more the North prospers. When Jon returned from the War for the Dawn at long last, he had the joy of not only reuniting with his wife, winning a war, and returning home, but also meeting his son for the first time. He and Sansa made quick work of producing an heir and a couple of spares. It gave them a certain emotional license to indulge their more carefree inclinations. And Jon finds that he adores indulging this one.

One of Sansa’s aims as queen has been enriching the Northern culture through art and learning since winter ended. Among her many efforts towards this goal has been bringing mummers to court. Something Jon originally thought he’d have to endure.

Now he looks forward to it. Not because of the plays themselves, though. But after the first performance from a Braavosi mummer’s troupe, Jon found himself discreetly purchasing one of the translucent slave-girl costumes from the production.

He left it on the bed the next morning. The evening after, Sansa greeted him in costume, smirking.

“Good evening, my sweet little concubine,” he greeted her, thrilled.

She shocked him by shoving him back against the wall and pressing a letter opener to his neck. “I’m your concubine no longer, Wise Master, you are now mine!”

What man wouldn’t immediately surrender to that?

He decides to add to the story she’s concocted.

“You mean the revolt has triumphed, Lemoncake?” He asks.

Her grin widens, and she lowers the letter opener, then embraces him. “Yes, Darling! We can truly be together at last!”

They kiss themselves raw before Jon sinks to his knees. He licks and sucks at her cunny through the fabric of her slave-skirt until she rips it off in frustration.

Her juices taste nice through gauze, but nothing beats the taste without a barrier.

She grips his curls tightly, and when she peaks, he swears she’s about to snatch him bald.

“Take me to bed, Darling,” she gasps, buckling at the knees.

“Yes, Lemoncake.”

They never keep up their pretenses for long. The costumes are shed, and the characters are lost. It’s a fun little game, but making love to one another as they truly are is always more satisfying.

[jonsa-creatives]

Do you know of any Jonsa gift exchanges which are happening soon? I would love to be able to take part in one.

Hey @corinalannister 😁

Not that I'm aware of. I'll tag @jonsaexchange but I don't think they've been active for a while 🤔

Those types of events are always fun. Maybe someone might feel like putting one together?

[thewindsofwolves]

That’s pretty

Drabble written for the @jonsasecretsanta2018 exchange, for @mediiciis :)

(Also on AO3)

***

“Your hair…”

They’re walking side by side on the battlements, as they did numerous times before he left for Dragonstone. His voice stirs her away from the reverie in which she had fallen after a few moments of silence.

“Hum ?”

“It… It looks different,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the top of her head. Sansa distractly strokes one of her braids pulling her long tresses away from her face, shrugging. “That’s more practical.”

“I-I-I didn’t mean to…” he stammers nervously, as if he fears he has offended her, “I mean that’s… that’s pretty.”

She feels the corners of her lips stretching into a small smile. “Thank you, Jon.”

He seems relieved when he answers back, going on rapidly, “I mean I like it too when you wear your hair loose, actually I think you would look beautiful regardless of how you wear your hair but…”

Beautiful ? Something warm flourishes in her chest, and she can’t quite say why the fact Jon has been paying attention to the way she does her hair, that he likes the way she does her hair, pleases her so much. “Yes ?” she says shyly.

He stops walking, and so does she. He looks shocked, as if he just realised what he said. “I-I-I…” He’s stuttering again. She doesn’t remember having seen him ever struggle so much with words. “I mean, it… it brings out the bl… the blue of your eyes when you… when you have your hair loose…”

Why does he looks so embarrassed ? Is he blushing ? She realises her cheeks are burning red too. She keeps staring at him, incredulously, but now he’s avoiding her eyes, pretending to be fascinated by the younglings training in the courtyard.

“Jon !” Both of them jump at the impromptu interruption. That’s Samwell Tarly, walking toward them as fast as his legs can carry him, looking excited and impatient. “I think we found something ! I was already suspecting it because of the book from the Citadel, but Bran had…”

Something in their expressions makes him stop, and he looks uneasy. “Yes Sam ?” asks Jon. This time, Sam is the one stuttering. “I’m sorry, I-I-I… if I’m disturbing you, we can talk about this lat…”

“This won’t be necessary,” Jon hastens to answer, “we had finished.” He finally meets her gaze, mutters something about seeing her later, his cheeks still a bit flushed, nods, and it seems like he can’t get away from her fast enough.

[fedonciadale]

New year’s eve at the black mill

So, here it is: My gift for @mimiofthemalfoys for @jonsaexchange. The tale is based on a sorbic folk tale (a slavic speaking minority in the Lausitz, a region in Eastern Germany). It was turned into a yound adult book by Otfried Preußler, which nowadays is a classic (and one of my all-time favourites) So, I hope it is a lesser known tale and therefore will have at least some surprises for my giftee, and a little bit of angst as well. I really hope, you like it. It has gotten rather long, so I put in under the cut.

Also on AO3.

Jon ran through the trees, his breath sounding loud in his ear. He held her hand and was looking for cover. Above him, a hawk was flying with fast beats of his wings, his shrieks piercing his ears. He didn’t need to look up to know that the hawk only had one eye.

“He mustn’t see your face”, he shouted at the girl, risking a look back. He saw that she held her hood in place with her other hand, only a small ringlet of her auburn hair had stolen out of the hood.

They slipped into cover and Jon turned to her, careful not to focus on her face. He tugged the strand of her hair back under the hood with trembling fingers, while he held his gaze firmly at the branch of the elder where they had stopped to catch their breath. There was a rustle in the brush-wood, a mouse was peering at them. There was only a scar where its left eye should be, and Jon took her hand again and they resumed their run.

Jon tried to set a steady pace. It was best not to stay too long in one place. He almost stumbled, when his foot met a rabbit-hole, and a fox came out of his den, his left eye only a black hole, the right eye fixed on the girl behind him… The master’s voice was in his head. ‘You could still have it both. The girl and the magic. Just make the right decision.’

Jon woke up in a cold sweat, and yet oddly relieved. The pictures of the one-eyed animals were fading before his inner eye. He felt certain, that the girl’s face hat stayed safely hidden, both from the animals in his dream as well as any eyes who might have spied from outside into his dreams. He sat up. Long habit had him carefully avoiding bumping his head on Bran’s bed above him. I’d best not sleep again.

Jon found his clothes in the dark, he tried not to wake the others, although their laboured and heavy breathing told him their dreams were barely less troubled when his own. They should know better than to fret. The signs are all there. This year it’s me. Only Bran, the apprentice boy, was sleeping soundly, his breathing went regular and deep. Jon envied his ignorance. Nevertheless, he touched the boy’s arm so that he could feel his warmth, reassuring himself that he was alive and well. With a short shudder he remembered the nightmare he had had three days ago. Bran lying on the ground, his legs in a twisted ankle, whimpering with pain, and the voice of the master in his head. ‘Magic would come in handy, now, wouldn’t it Jon?’.

Jon made his way to the kitchen, carefully avoiding the squeaking stairs. He didn’t need light. After three years in the mill, he could find his way in the dark. When he opened the kitchen door, Sam was already there. He was tending the fire. Even today, Sam would tend the fire, bake bread, cook and run the house as smoothly as a well-built mill-wheel going round and round all year long, summer and winter. My winter is here, this year.

Jon wondered, if it would ever be Sam’s turn, if the Master would ever decide that this year it was Sam who would be the one. Sam the Simple, as almost everybody called him. Robb had not called him that, but Robb was dead. Bran did not call him that either, imitating Jon. Jon wondered if the small apprentice who loved climbing knew that Sam was anything but simple. Bran was clever, and he knew how to play an act.

Sam arched an eyebrow, when Jon entered the kitchen. Jon looked at his fellow journeyman and wondered how he had ever fallen for the simpleton act.

Jon shook his head at the unasked question: “I don’t think he saw her.”

He let himself fall on one of the kitchen stools. “Whatever happens, this night I’m going to have a good sleep one way or the other.”

Sam frowned. “Please don’t joke about that. I’m so afraid. I wish we had had more time to prepare.”

Jon nodded. “Me, too. But I doubt you could have taught me more. You were always better than me, even if nobody knows.”

Jon smiled at his friend. “Sam the wizard,” he said.

Sam’s answering smile was very van.

“I think I should not test the Master’s boundaries today.”, Jon said. “Will you tell the girl, that today is the day?”

“I will,” Sam answered solemnly.

Jon reached in his pocket. “If you will give her this, she’ll know the message is from me.”

For a short moment he fingered the strand of auburn hair he had spun into a ring, that fit his little finger, before giving it to Sam.

Sam watched the ring. “I should be able to find her by the colour of her hair alone,” he said. “It is good, you were so careful. Where will I find her?”

“Fly to Schwarzkollm. Her house is the third on the right side, the one with the green door. She has the most beautiful voice, you’ll ever hear” His voice trailed off and he remembered how he had first heard her singing, on the eve of Easter more than two years ago, a lifetime ago. Her voice had enchanted him and had filled him with longing.

He reached out and hugged Sam. “Will you promise me something, brother?”, he asked.

Sam nodded.

“Do not push her. If she decides that she doesn’t want to risk her life, so be it.”

“You will not survive a direct confrontation with the Master,” Sam said.

“I know,” Jon said, “but then she would not have to die, if we lose.”

Sam took Jon’s hand in his own. “I promise.”, he said.

He turned to the window, but Jon held him back.

“If I die… “, he hesitated for a moment.

“If I die, don’t forget me. Don’t forget me like everyone is forgotten in this god-forsaken mill.”

“I won’t,” Sam said. “If I can, I will take up the task.” He grinned somewhat sheepishly. “I would have to find a girl, though.”

Jon laughed while Sam opened the window.

“Remember not to lose confidence. You are best when you’re confident. We practiced often enough, you can do this.” Sam said.

“I will,” Jon answered grimly.

In Sam’s place sat a raven. Jon smiled, that even in raven form, his best friend was a little plump. The bird picked up the ring of red hair and set out, his wings beating in a steady rhythm, just in the direction of the rising sun, towards Schwarzkollm.

Jon closed the window, his heart heavy. If he hadn’t unlearned how to pray in the mill at blackpool, he would pray now.

Old habit had him reach into his pocket and take Robb’s knife. He let it snap open and watched the blade, that was as black as it had been since Easter. No reason, why it should be shiny. I’m as much in mortal danger as ever.

Since Sam was away, Jon began to lay the table. He was interrupted when the Master entered. The black eyepatch over his left eye stood out against his face, that was paler than usual. The red birthmark on his neck was clearly visible today. His hands were behind his back.

“Here you are, Jon,” the Master said. “It’s New Year’s eve today. I told you, I would hear your decision today.”

“My opinion has not changed. I won’t take your offer. I won’t become Master here at the black mill only to do as you did and kill one of the journeymen in my stead each year for the Godman.”

“I gave you a taste of what it means to have no magic. You saw what will happen to Bran.”

Jon shuddered remembering his dream about Bran.

“The future is never clear, and I won’t become a murderer like you.”

The Master shook his head. “You wouldn’t even kill Rast, would you?”

Jon just looked the miller in the eye. Robb, he thought, Jeyne his love, whom I never met, Grenn, and long ago, Ned and Cat.

“Someday you’ll have to pay for your crimes,” Jon answered. “Maybe today is the day.”

The Master barked a short laugh.

“You have a last duty to fulfil, Jon.” When he brought his hand in front of him, Jon saw that he held a shovel. He shoved it into Jon’s hand.

“There will be need for a grave on the waste plane tomorrow.”

Did you tell Robb to dig his own grave as well, and Grenn? Jon could fell anger building up and the thirst for revenge. It would be easy to defy his order. He doesn’t know how strong I have become with Sam’s help.

Jon gritted his teeth. He shouldered the shovel and left the kitchen.

His anger carried him all the way through his grizzly task. Each time he forced the shovel in the frozen earth he though of Robb, of Grenn, his dead friends, he thought of Jeyne who had been driven to madness and drowned herself, when she could not escape the nightmares, after the Master had found out who she was, how she was called. He fought of Ned and Cat whom he only knew about because Sam had told him about them. In Sam’s early days at the mill, Ned had tried to take down the Master, and Cat had come on New Year’s eve. She had begged the Master to release Ned in the name of their love, just like the black book stated it should be done. But the black book was not very specific, and the Master had set the conditions.

‘Do you know your sweetheart?’ the Master had asked. Cat had been confident. ‘I know him well’. But then the Master had turned them all into ravens, he ordered them to put their beak under the right wing. Cat had failed at recognizing her love in raven form. Both had died the same night.

It won’t be like that today… I trained with Sam. I’ll put my beak under the other wing. I just have to resist obeying for a short time…. just enough time that she’ll see.

****

Poor Bran! He had no idea why all the journeymen were so tense this New Year’s eve. Rast went into a fit, when he realised Sam was not there and that they had to prepare the evening meal themselves. He shouted at Bran and would have hit the boy, if Jon had not shoved him away. He wanted to scream. None of you needs to be tense, it’s me. It’s me! But he could not say it aloud.

It had been dark for quite some time when Sam finally came back. There had been snowfall the whole day and Jon wondered, if their journey had been hindered by the master.

The girl trailed behind him, and Jon felt as if a fire had been lit in the room, and he felt warmth in his heart. He rushed to her side and took her hand. “You’ve come”.

She just nodded solemnly, her eyes smiling. The journeymen were staring. Her red hair flowed freely around her head. Some snowflakes still stuck to it and became shiny drops when they melted.

She raised her voice. “Master Miller”.

The Master stepped out of the black chamber, his right eye burning. His whole posture was threatening but the girl squared her shoulders and refused to be intimidated.

“It is New Year’s eve, Master Miller of the blackpool mill. As is the custom, I’ve come to beg freedom for one of your journeyman.”

“And who would that be?” the Master asked.

“Jon whom I love.” She answered.

“But do you know him?” The Master scoffed. “He doesn’t even know your name. You will die, before he even knows your name.”

“He doesn’t need my name to love me,” she answered.

“We will see if you know him.”

He looked around at the journeymen. “Go, into the black chamber, all of you. There you line up.”

The twelve journeymen did as they were told. Sam took the time to briefly press Jon’s hand that were coated with cold sweat.

They lined up in the black chamber just like they did every Friday evening, when the Master taught them the dark magic from the black-red book. Jon expected to be changed into a raven. He steeled himself to disobey the Master.

The Master entered leading the girl by the hand. She was tightly blindfolded, and Jon was suddenly overcome with a fear so visceral that he felt as if his blood plummeted to his feet and he feared he would pass out.

“A noise from you, and she dies”. The Master held a dagger to her throat.

“Now, they are all lined up. Just point him out to me.” he addressed the girl.

Jon’s thoughts were twirling in his head and he tried to come up with a solution. He had not expected that! If he would make a noise, the Master would kill her. There was no sign he could give her.

Desperately he looked at her as she passed the line of the journeymen in measured strides. Slowly she went back and forth the line, seemingly oblivious to the Master’s dagger at her throat.

She will die because of me! Robb was right. We journeymen from the Blackpool mill mean ill luck for the girls. It was all for nothing, all the training, Sam preparing me, all for nothing. She is going to die, she is going to die. I wish I had never listened to her singing. It would be better, if I had never talked to her, if I had never met her.

His eyes filled with tears. She stopped just in front of him. She raised her finger and pointed directly at him.

“That is Jon,” she said.

“Are you sure?”, the Master asked.

“Yes, this is my choice,” she answered.

The dagger fell from the shaking hands of the Master and to Jon it seemed as if time had stopped.

She took the blindfold from her eyes. A smile was blooming on her face, and her face lit. She took his hand.

“You are free,” she said. “Let’s go.”

“Fetch your belongings and leave the mill.” Sam called out to all the journeymen who stood frozen. “We have to be gone before midnight. We can spend the night at the smith’s barn in Schwarzkollm.” In a corner of his mind Jon registered that Sam must have been confident on the outcome if he had arranged for their night.

None of the journeymen even looked at the master who seemed to have shrunk and leaned at the wall, as if he could not stand by himself. He would die at midnight. The godman would fetch him, him, the black book and the mill. All would go down in fire.

Jon let himself be led out of the room and outside in a daze. She smiled at him, never letting go of his hand, but putting on her hood with the other hand.

They took the path through the forest and when they reached the fox’s den Jon had seen in his dreams this night, he stopped. The fox that hid when he heard them come had two eyes.

“How did you know me?” Jon finally asked. “I was sure I had led you to your death.”

“You were afraid,” she answered. “Not for yourself, but for me. That’s how I knew it was you.”

“I dreamed of walking here, with you, but in my dream, it was spring.”

“I know. I dreamt the same dream. I think it was a sign for us to hope.”

Jon felt as safe as he had never felt in his life and her smile was filling his heart with joy. The loss of his magic was nothing if weighed against her smile and his freedom.

“When we reach my home and I introduce you to my parents and my sister, you’d better know, how to call me,” she said. Her eyes were twinkling with suppressed laughter.

“I am Sansa.”

“Sansa,” Jon said. Her name had a pleasant sound and he liked to let it roll of his tongue. “Sansa,” he repeated.

“Sansa, the singer, Sansa, my saviour”, he leaned down and kissed her, oblivious to the snow falling gently around them.

[nyangibun]

To the very lovely and adorable and intelligent @buttercup--bee​! Thank you, Averie, for continuing to be one of the greatest (and one of my favourite) presences in the Jonsa fandom. Thank you for all your wonderful metas <3 I hope you like this ficlet!! 

Title: A Sansa Stark Thing Summary: Professional football player Jon Snow is asked to come onto Sansa Stark’s daytime talk show and more than one person notices the sparks immediately flying off between them.  @jonsaexchange

As soon as Jon started fidgeting with his suit, Melisandre slapped his hand away and fixed him with one of her legendary glares. He sighed in defeat. No matter how many times they put him in an expensive monkey suit, Jon would never get used to the feeling. It wasn’t him. None of it was him. When he first kicked a football at age five, Jon never thought in a million years that he would be forced to make talk show appearances and answer questions about his personal life.

Frankly, he never thought he would be captain of Winterfell Football Club either, but here he was, standing in a cramped little dressing room with the club’s crazy superstitious publicist in some designer suit he forgot the name of already.

Jon opened his mouth to ask Melisandre if there was any chance he could cancel now when his phone beeped in his pocket. He pulled it out and quickly checked his messages.

[Group: The Brotherhood]

Edd: Try not to throw up on Sansa bloody Stark. She’s a national treasure.

Sam: You’ll do great, Jon! But yeah, try not to throw up on her.

Tormund: Are you kidding? She’s a beautiful redhead. Of course Jon’s gonna throw up on her.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips before he could stop himself, eliciting a sharp glance from Melisandre, who had been busy typing into her phone up until then. Jon offered her a half smile, but she knew him well enough now to see right through that.

“Stick to the plan and we can avoid another Good Morning Britain debacle,” she said icily.

Jon winced at the reminder. It hadn’t been his crowning moment, especially since it happened only a month after he was announced as Winterfell’s newest and youngest captain. That and Tormund and the boys being photographed getting into a bar brawl was what forced the club owners to hire Melisandre in the first place. Winterfell was a great team full of great players with incredible work ethic, but off of the pitch, they were all a bit of a nightmare. Jon readily admitted that. It was probably the only reason he was agreeing to all of these dumb interviews.

A knock on the door signaled the five minute warning, and Melisandre immediately ushered him out into the corridor towards the edge of the set. Jon hadn’t managed to meet Sansa Stark yet on account of him running straight from training to this interview, but watching her now sitting there in her element, he really wished he had. It might have stilled the nervous butterflies fluttering in his stomach; or maybe it would’ve made it worse. Jon couldn’t be sure, but all he knew was this woman was far more beautiful than she appeared on screen and every time she smiled, Jon kind of wanted to drown in her deep winter blue eyes.

“But enough of that, let’s welcome our next guest! The infamous Jon Snow, captain of Winterfell Football Club!”

The crowd roared and Jon let loose another soft sigh before plastering on a bright smile and stepping out onto the set. The bright lights blinded him momentarily, their heat already beginning to make him sweat through his suit, but somehow Jon found his way to the sofa without incident. His smile however turned genuine as soon as his eyes caught hers.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Jon,” Sansa said as she stuck out her hand.

His heart lodged itself in his throat the second he grasped on, the contact sending a jolt up his spine so shocking he nearly let go altogether, but Jon caught himself just in time to smile wider. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

She looked just as startled as he felt. “Yes, please. Have a seat.”

Jon nodded, settling himself onto the sofa in front of her. God, she was even more beautiful up close with her long copper hair, beguiling smile and that sinful body wrapped in a tight burgundy dress. If he didn’t visibly drool over her like some kind of pathetic ape, he’d call that a win.

“I have to be honest, Jon,” she began, making him instantly think about how much he loved hearing his name on her lips and shamefully regretting it a second later. “I don’t know a thing about football. I could ask you the generic questions I was given here on my card.” She raised her hand to show him. “But that’s just boring, isn’t it?”

The audience murmured in agreement and Jon could practically hear Melisandre screaming in the background somewhere about how unprofessional this was. Determined to keep Sansa from getting into trouble with her producers, Jon gave her his most charming grin. If he could be entertaining for one afternoon without causing some sort of PR disaster then no one could blame Sansa for deviating from the script.

“If we’re being honest then I have to say I’m getting real bored of the generic questions as well,” he said.

Sansa laughed, bright and clear. Surprise flashed in her eyes for a brief moment, as if she hadn’t meant to do that and it made him feel rather smug for being the cause. “What kind of questions should I be asking you then?” She arched her brow; it was a challenge.

“That’s not my job, Miss Stark,” Jon said, chuckling. “I kick a ball around for a living. Why don’t you surprise me?”

“Call me Sansa.” Her voice was quiet, almost as if they were in a private conversation and not sitting in front of a live audience, being televised to all of Scotland. She crossed her legs and Jon had to physically force himself to keep his eyes on her face, but when she leaned forward, elbows pressed onto her knees, he couldn’t help glancing down. At least he was right about his first assessment of her: she had the most sinful body of any woman he’d ever met. But now he probably looked like Scotland’s biggest creep. He hoped no one noticed that.

“I guess we can start with something easy,” she said, smiling. “Is it true you broke up with Ygritte Campbell over a text?”

“What?” He couldn’t help the laughter from bubbling up. “This is your ‘easy’ question?” Sansa shrugged, her smile turning wicked and mischievous. Jon shook his head. “I’m not looking forward to what your hard questions will be. But no. That’s not what happened.”

He might be imagining it but Sansa almost looked relieved at his answer. He probably was imagining it. Why would she be relieved?

“Would you care to elaborate then?”

“Ygritte and I were together a long time, but towards the end, we realised we were going weeks then months without really speaking. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. We’re both professional athletes and our schedules are hectic.” Jon shrugged a little. “But eventually, we realised we’d broken up without ever saying the words, so I did text her but to say that…” He paused, suddenly realising this wasn’t a private conversation. He glanced out towards the audience and laughed awkwardly. “Actually, I’ll keep that to myself. I think Ygritte might kill me if I told all of Scotland.”

Sansa chuckled and followed his gaze towards the hundred odd people sitting there watching them. “I think that’s the first time I forgot you guys were there. I’ve never seen the audience so quiet.” The audience laughed, and it was so clear they adored her.

“Maybe your easy question bored them,” Jon teased, unable to help himself. Sansa’s eyes snapped back to his; the mirth dancing in them made his heart constrict so painfully he wanted to cry out.

“Is that so?” Sansa grinned. “Okay, tough guy. You want a hard question?”

Jon crossed his arms over his chest, trying to look as at ease as he could despite the ramming of his heart against his ribcage. “Try me, Stark.”

“What really happened on Good Morning Britain?”

The audience ooh’ed loudly and Jon let out a bark of laughter. He had predicted she’d ask him that just as he could predict Melisandre’s likely breakdown right at this moment, but he only leaned back, keeping his eyes focused on Sansa. She returned his gaze with that wicked smile of hers and it made him want her all that much more.

“You really want to know?” Jon asked her, and she nodded in response. “It’s not that exciting of a story.”

“You’re deflecting, Snow,” she said. “Answer the question.”

He laughed again. “It really isn’t that exciting. They were hedging for gossip on Jeor Mormont as if the man hadn’t passed away a few months ago and I refused to be needled into saying anything. The man was a legend. Whether the accusations were true or not, it wasn’t anyone’s right to talk about it but the authorities.” Jon felt his body tense just thinking about it; he clenched and unclenched his fists. “And those accusations have all been proven false now anyway. Mormont lived and breathed Winterfell; he would never embezzle from the club.”

“My father knew Jeor Mormont,” Sansa said quietly, as she inched closer to him. “He was a great man. We never believed the accusations either.”

Jon looked up at that and the soft smile on her face soothed the tenseness from his shoulders. He wondered if it was possible to fall in love with someone in a manner of minutes.

“So is that why you –”

“No,” he said and then amended, “sort of. There’s no love lost between Alliser Thorne and I. The man fought me at every turn and hated that Mormont placed so much trust in me. When they brought Thorne on as a surprise guest, I had it. I knew what Thorne would say. I knew he’d defile Mormont’s name and so I told him to go screw himself and left.”

Sansa laughed and shook her head. “Honourable and brave. A far cry from the reckless caveman the media tries to paint you as, Jon Snow.”

He wanted to say something sarcastic and teasing, but he found himself blushing at her words. “No, anyone who knew Mormont would’ve done what I did.”

She abruptly gripped onto his hand, sending another jolt of electricity up his spine. “That’s not true. You put your reputation on the line. That’s brave. I don’t think I would’ve done the same.”

“You would’ve,” Jon replied earnestly.

“You’re a flatterer,” she mumbled, and turned away so she could face the camera. “We’re due for a break. Join us after for more candid talks with Winterfell’s Jon Snow, where he’ll be answering your questions. Tweet us with the hashtag ‘Ask Jon Snow.”

As soon as they cut for commercials, Jon felt the nervous tension swelling up again like it had done only moments before. Sansa appeared to feel the same if her shy smile was anything to go by.

“I’m sorry if the questions got a bit personal,” she said quietly. “I just…” Sansa glanced around them and seemingly satisfied that they weren’t the sole focus anymore, she moved to sit beside him on his side of the sofa. “The truth is I got into a fight with my prick of a producer. He wanted me to ask you all these questions and try to manipulate you in outing which of your teammates was involved in the bar brawl.” Sansa sighed. “So... I guess I just wanted to spite him.”

Jon chuckled, angling his body towards her. “My publicist warned me about your producer. Petyr, right? He sounds like a piece of work. You could be putting your job at risk doing this.” She shrugged, staring down at her hands. “And you said you couldn’t be as brave and honourable as you think I am,” he teased. “I think you’ve got plenty of both.”

Sansa looked up; her smile was so bright and so breathtaking he nearly leaned forward to kiss her right then and there. “Thank you. I – Oh, we’re back soon!” She jumped over to her side just as they counted the studio down.

“Welcome back! For those of you just tuning in, we’re here with Winterfell’s captain Jon Snow,” Sansa said and gestured towards him. “Over the break, you’ve been tweeting us some of your most pressing questions so without further ado, let’s get to it.”

They both turned towards the large screen behind them and waited for the first tweet to come in.

Dayna Birch ‏@mizdayna Soooo… when exactly is Jon going to ask out Sansa? #askjonsnow #crazysexualtensionright

Sansa spluttered and Jon turned a bright red. He looked to her, but she was too busy glaring at someone else.

“Um… let’s move on, okay?” Sansa said with an awkward laugh. “Next question!”

Tom Woods @twoods27 Jon mate do u have a thing 4 redheads or something? #askjonsnow #firstygrittenowsansa

“Okay, who is in charge of this?” Sansa looked furious, and Jon would have to be lying if it didn’t turn him on a little to see her so fired up on his behalf.

“It’s okay,” he said, surprising both himself and her. “I can answer this.” If he was a more confident man, he’d wink, but Jon just rubbed the back of his neck and hoped he didn’t sound like a total idiot. “I have a thing for beautiful intelligent women and Ygritte and Sansa are both those things.”

Sansa’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “Um… thank you.” She averted her gaze and looked back at the screen. “Let’s have the next question.”

Tormund Giantsbane Verified Account @tormthegiant

Jon, if you don’t ask her out, me and the lads are going to kidnap Ghost and shave all his fur off. #askjonsnow

“That’s not even a question!” Sansa cried out.

Jon dropped his face into his hands and groaned. “I’m going to kill them. I really am.”

“One more question,” he heard her say. “And that’s it. We’re scrapping this segment forever.”

Reluctantly, he looked up and watched as the screen fade to black before another tweet popped up on screen. This one didn’t nearly make him want to fling himself off of a cliff as much as the others.

Anna Lee ‏@leeanna

I love you two together so much. Can u please come back on the show, Jon? #askjonsnow #teamjonsa

“As long as Sansa will have me,” Jon answered immediately, turning to look at the host in question. Somehow the words felt more important than just simply asking to come back on the show and Sansa seemed to recognise that as well.

She smiled softly. “Any time you’re free.”

By the time the show wrapped up and Jon had psyched himself up enough to go wait in the corridor outside of Sansa’s dressing room, most of the crew had gone home. Apparently Sansa liked to stay late to review footage of the show. It had become tradition for her now and everyone knew not to bother her after, or so her personal assistant had told him, but Jon waited anyways. There was just something he had to do, and maybe blurting it out as soon as the door opened wasn’t his best move, but Jon didn’t have the most tact when it came to charming women.

“I’m free now.”

Sansa’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“I’m…” Jon cleared his throat and chuckled. “I’m free now. And apparently if I don’t ask you out, they’re going to shave my very furry dog.”

Realisation dawned in her blue eyes and she smiled. “Well, we can’t have that.”

“No,” he agreed as he stepped closer. “Definitely not.” He could feel her breath on his lips and the sensation nearly drove him mad, but he kept himself contained long enough to ask. “So will you go out with me, Sansa Stark?”

“Only for your dog, Jon Snow.”

“Thank god,” he exhaled, and chuckling, he cradled her cheeks in between his hands and kissed her soundly on the lips. To his great pleasure, she reciprocated immediately, wrapping her own arms around his neck, and pressed her body up against his.

So maybe he did have a thing for redheads, but after that first kiss, Jon would bet that Sansa could dye her hair bright green and he’d still fall head over heels for her. It was simply a Sansa Stark thing.

[lucyskywalker]

I may be a Arya stan; but Dany is my second favorite character, so I am here to defend her and I got fucking tired of this hipocrisy. Warning: If there are mistakes on it, I'm sorry, because Im not a specialisty on Dany's arc. This is just me wanting to get some frustration out of my chest.

I'm getting tired to open Twitter, Quora and Reddit with all the ASoIaF "intelectuals" calling Dany a tyrant, when it is clear that they don't even know what the word means. Calling her a slaver. Calling her a monster. Also, there are uncountable that points out she would be nothing without Viserys. You guys know who I'm talking about, right? The one who abused his little sister emocionally, phisically and sexually. Sold his little sister as a slave/let clear that would not raise a hand if all the khalaser raped her, because he needed an army. This Viserys is the only one Im talking about.

"Poor Viserys. He didn't deserve it."

"Poor slaver, mad Danielle destroyed the economy."

"Poor masters crucified. They only have grown in this community. They are not wrong. This fucking white savior is."

Those people have the audacity to say it, and after that, the same profiles change all Sansa's storyline, says Sansa deserves the dragons, what she could do with dragons, and I'm damm sure they are the ones who writes and read fanfics where they put their dear redhead on Dany's place.

The audacity of some people is something infuriating. You know what? Dany is NOT a fucking TYRANT, much less a slaver. How can you point it out, when Dany was a SLAVE herself?! She was SOLD to the dothraki! Why this needs to be said?!

Because she liked the dothraki?

Dany was a pre-teen that was mentally, phisically and sexually abused during her all life, and this is OBVIOUSLY include her childhood.

She just started liking the dothraki after she accepts and takes "control" of her sexual life; or better, just accepts being raped by Drogo as a part of her life, in exchange of it she is respected by the whole khalasar and is gifted with "love" and "care". This is disgusting. It is more disgusting people calling her a bitch because of it! DAENERYS WAS THIRTEEN YEARS OLD! GIVE A THIRTEEN YEARS OLD CHILD WHO WAS ALWAYS ABUSED AND HARESSAD BY HER OWN BROTHER A BIT OF CARE AND " SICK LOVE" THIS CHILD WILL LOVE THEM BACK! THIS IS THE BASIC OF PSICHOLOGY WHEN YOU DEAL WITH AN ABUSE SURVIVOR! THIS IS WHY VICTIMS OF ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIPS TENDS TO DEFEND THEIR ABUSERS! THAT'S THE REASON DANY STILL REMEMBERS OF DROGO AND VISERYS FOUNDLY EVEN IN ADWD!

The dragons? Dany LOVES her dragons! The mother of dragons is not only a nicknam, much less a title. For Dany they are her children! But she is afraid, she was afraid because she finally saw her loved children were dangerous creatures to others. This is why she locks them. It hurts her, but the safety of her people comes first. She choose to make this sacrifice.

Also for all the crazy people who says Dany would be nothing without her dragons and it was given to her, I say "shut up". Dany was presented with eggs. Who've read Fire & Blood or payed a fucking attention in ASoIaF knows that having dragon eggs means nothing! The eggs were stone! Dead to everyone! In centuries, since the Dance with Dragons there were no dragons. Targaryens loose their life trying to hatch them. Dany is special. She entered into the fire, without knowing she would survive, and the dragons hatched. She was the first kalheesi ever to lead a khalasar. The khalasar just follow the strong ones.

About the tyranny? I can write a fucking whole essay about her called "tyranny". Dany is harsh, this is true. She is vengeful. But you know what more she is? Daenerys is just!

She was an outsider who saw a whole community that enslaved people, children, men and women, and saw that it was fucking wrong!

More than that. Dany saw it was wrong, but she also saw she could change it. She had the power to make it better. So she did.

In centuries, westerosi people and anothers have seen slavery, some despised but didn't do anything to change the situation. Dany was the only one in centuries to see it by what it was and try to change the disgusting slaver culture in slaver's bay.

She could have taken only the unsullied and sailed to Westeros, but no. She choose to stay and make things right. She decided to fight for freedom.

More than that, as queen of Meereen she tries her best to be the best ruler she can be. She wants her people to love her, and she works for it intead of being passive as someone we know damm well. She hears her councillors. Would a tyrant do that? No. Aerys was a tyrant. He would kill anyone who speaks against his will. Dany is not that person. She is not her father. This is her writing. She is a Targaryen through and through, but a tyrant? Never. This is thesis of her arc ass it can be stated by Barristan Selmy who served the Mad King.

Was it wrong to end slavery? I don't think so. Dany tought it was only ending slavery, but she finally saw the political consequence of it, and what I love about her? She is not running away from it. She is facing the consequences bravely. She decided to marry again to please the meereen people and the called "sons of the harpy", because she wanted peace! She wanted her people to stop suffering. This was her wish. More than the iron throne.

The iron throne? Is it wrong for her to want justice and blood from the ones she believes betrayed a good King? To want what is hers by birthright? Because this is what Daenerys knew about her father. Aerys was a good king, betrayed by the Lannister, Baratheon and Starks because the usurpers wanted the throne. Viserys told it to her since she was a young child. It was a fact. How is Dany supposed to know every damn thing? Just recently she is learning the truth of how mad Aerys was.

Also, if people get mad if Dany rides Drogon in the next book, I say fuck you. It's a war she is fighting. Her enemies would be glad to see her head on a spike. If Dany fights back, I will congrelute her.

Dany is incredible complex, with flaws and a lot of redeem qualities. Her arc is awesome to read. If you can't stand that war, death, and that there are no perfect hero, you are at the wrong fandom. ASoIaF is not for you. Get out of here.

And for the stansas and jonsas, because these disgusting people who claim those things can just be part of darling redhead. What your "favorite" have done untill now in the books? Betrayed her family? Survived? Killing her cousin what you claim she is too dumb for noticing? Wow. How spacial. It is easy to "love" such a great incredible cough* passive classicist*cough character. 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

I know damm well who I stan.

I stan Daenerys of House Targaryen

I stan Arya of House Stark.

I accept their flaws and qualities equally. And I love them for being such incredible grey complexes characters.

For the ones that still say "poor Viserys", and "poor slavers" and "poor masters", I just say one thing:

[pax-2735]

GoT fanfic: And if you howl (1/9)

Summary:

"She sits down – on her hind quarters – and takes a steady look at her surroundings, trying to make sense of it. She can see her massive paws crunching the snow in front of her, covered in coarse white fur, and feel the rustling wind caressing one long ear. Ghost."

Written for the prompt: Post series - Sansa misses Jon. When she discovers she can warg into Ghost, she uses this ability to see him beyond the Wall.

Notes:

As always, I own nothing but the mistakes.

This was originally written for the Jonsa Festival. The prompts were anonymous so I have no idea who came up with this... but if it was you please let me know, I'd love to gift this fic to you.

And if you howl, I’ll give you the moon

Prologue - Loneliness

“Well then, my Lords, I believe that settles the matter.” Sansa rises to her feet as soon as the words are out of her mouth and the assembled lords are quick to follow in the wake of their queen. “It’s late and we are all tired. I believe all further matters can wait until tomorrow.” She watches as they bow their heads and she gives a quick nod and a polite smile in their direction before she turns and leaves the room.

She walks through the dimly lit hallways towards her chambers, her steps quick yet unhurried. The few servants still up and about at this late hour curtsey as they come across their queen, and she takes the time to smile and exchange a few gentle words with each of them, asking about the work being carried out, giving instructions and counsel or merely enquiring about their loved ones.

A lifetime ago, she had told Cersei that she would make her people love her, and that is exactly what she strives to do, every day since she has become queen.

As she finally enters her chambers and closes the door, she breathes a small sigh of relief though. She has been up since before dawn, and her day has been a whirlwind of places to go and things to do, and she feels drained.

She is quick to dismiss her sleepy looking chamber maids, choosing to undress herself in solitude. She easily recognizes the pull of exhaustion at the brink of her mind and knows that, soon, the ghosts of all those she loved will be here, keeping her company and pulling her under with the weight of all that she’s lost.

She recognizes and even cherishes the ones who have died, her memories keeping them alive in her mind, making them an integral part of her life still. Her mother and father, Robb and Rickon, Theon and Lady. She wishes to keep them as close as possible and treasures these small moments when she can remember them in peace, no matter how much these memories clench her heart and make it bleed out with the strength of their absence.

It’s the ones that are still living that have the power to hurt her the most.

Bran, who is as far away from her as he’s ever been, ever since they first parted so long ago, both physically and in the way he’s just not her little brother anymore. A king now, and a strange creature that bears little resemblance to the sweet boy who wanted to become a knight, but she fears her brother exists no more.

Brienne, who now stands on the other side of the continent, the brave and bold she-warrior whose path had taken her to positions previously unthinkable in any of the seven kingdoms. She had left by her own design and with Sansa’s blessing and she can hardly begrudge her for her choice. She simply misses her friend.

Arya, the sister who was finally becoming one, who has left for only the gods know where, whom she cannot contact, cannot speak to no matter how much she wishes she could.

And Jon…

Jon, who has willingly left her and their home behind.

She had sent dozen of ravens to Castle Black, entreating him to come back. Assuring him it was safe, that he could return even if it was just for a visit. Telling him about the repairs being done to Winterfell, how they were coping with winter, all the ideas she had to make life for their people better, how much she missed him.

When her letters had gone unanswered she had sent a party to what remained of the Wall, under the guise of assessing the needs of the Night’s Watch, so they could report back and have them answered. Their return, a few moons later, had told her what she already feared. Jon had gone north of the Wall and hadn’t been seen since.

She feels the familiar prickling of tears and she closes her eyes, allowing them to fall freely. Here in her chambers, in the dead of night, is the only place and the only time when she allows herself this brief moment of weakness, this release from the constant demands of duty, where she can just be Sansa and not the queen in the north.

Where she can be the girl who’s gained everything she had ever desired and lost everything that ever mattered.

[amymel86]

Me: *sees funny novelty sex toy thingy* oh what if Jon and Sansa-

My brain: you could add this backstory

Me: no, I was just thinking a porn without pl-

My brain: how about introducing this little angst nugget too?

Me: well that’s nice, but I was just gonna make them fuc-

My brain: oh wouldn’t it be delicious if this happened? And there was this complication?

Me: oh ffs!!!

[jonsaholidays]

❄️ Treats ❄️

If you missed sign ups for Jonsa Holiday Fic Exchange, there are other ways to participate — treats!

Treats are extra gifts, like stocking stuffers, written for a signed up participant. They can be less than 1,000 words. On the AO3 collection, the participants have written some prompts, likes, and dislikes that can  give inspiration for these stocking stuffer treats. You can find the prompts here.

Be  sure to include the collection (jonsaholiday2019) and gift to the  recipient’s name so that your fic can be included in the Jonsa Holiday merriment with all the fics in the AO3 collection.

❄️ ⛄️ ❄️

[jonsa-creatives]

Are there any upcoming jonsa events?

Hi @grrmartin

The only events I'm aware of happening this side of New Year is @jonsaholidays gift exchange. Sign ups have passed but if you're keen to enter, they might be looking for pinch hitters so it's worth getting in touch.

As for after New Year, there's @jonsa-valentine in Feb and @jonsa-week will be holding an event sometime in march/april.

I'll tag @jonsadrabbles and @jonsadungeonsanddrabbles just in case they're thinking of holding anything soon as drabble events are always fun!

[sunbeamsandmoonrays]

Hellooooo 👋 your jonsa holiday fic exchange gifter! I hope you're having a great holiday season so far and enjoy my gift for you 🙈🙈🙈

Ahhhhhhh!!! Hello, there! I'm super excited to read your fic and I hope you're having a great holiday, too. 🤗

[fedonciadale]

I'm curious about the questions numbers # 1, # 2 and # 3 of the Ask the Authors Game? And my apologies if you have already answered them. Thanks!

Hi there!

# 1 : First fic/ first fandom My very first (unfinished and unpublished) fic was for Tuor x Idril from the Silmarillion and I honestly don't even remember where I put my handwritten notes.

My first genuine fic was the first chapter of 'To Go South' for Jonsa/GoT that became a novel length fic I had never planned to write.

# 2 Do I participate in fests?

Occasionally, I do. My experiences have been mixed to be honest. I participated in some Jonsa Christmas exchanges and that was usually very nice but there was that one time when the person I gifted the fic to did not even react by giving kudos and the person who was supposed to do something for me dropped out at the last second. The mods were nice about it and made an AU moodboard for me. It was not their fault that they picked one of my NOTP from HP for that AU. Lol. But that year definitely sucked....

I've done two collabs for Dramione with artists and that was much fun! For the first one we decided together on the story and the other person drew for my fic and the other time we both chose a prompt, the artist drew something with an idea in their head and I took the picture and ran with it and produced my own fic.

Usually I join a fest when I already have an idea. I can't fathom joining without one. That would stress me out!

I like that these exchanges and fests bring the fandom together and I end up reading fic by people I don't yet know that well. I like that very much!

#3 I write from beginning to end. I need to do this to discipline myself and to get motivation. First of all I can publish finished chapters and get the reactions I crave (lol) and second if I write just the scenes I like it is very difficult to motivate me to write the story in between. That is why my motivation usually goes down once I have reached my fav scenes. It was a good thing that the climax for Phoenix Potion was at the very end. I had a bit of a problem with Perks once I had reached my fav scene where Neville realises he's in love.

Thanks for the ask! 🥰