#jonsansaff valentine's day

[kittensjonsa]

A Raven Came

For Feb 1 Valentine’s Day: First Kiss. For @jonxsansafanfiction 😊 Not sure if this ties in with the theme of the day but what the hell *grabs this from inside the trash can* so here goes. This is show verse, what happens after S6x10. Maybe S6x13 or something. Well, a girl can dream, right…. ********

Sansa stared long and hard at the scroll, so hard till the words became a blur – it could not be. Was he protecting him? Even from Mother? Why did Father keep it a secret?

There were questions even Sansa’s keen mind could not comprehend. She didn’t know what to believe now, that Bran was alive and well or that Jon wasn’t whom everyone thought he was.

And she wondered what would happen if one day, everyone knew about Jon’s real heritage, what would she do then? What would be of Winterfell then? Both Jon and Sansa fought hard to reclaim their beloved home; Jon almost died and many had fallen in aiding their quest. Little did they know, they were pledging their allegiance to a King that didn’t belong in the North, by his birthright. He belonged on the Iron Throne.

Sansa leaned back on her chair and let out a deep sigh that made her body tremble slightly. She looked around her in the Lord’s chambers and noticed it was almost dusk. Sansa remembered that Jon would be returning soon from his hunt. Winter had already made its presence felt, after the deluge of snow that greeted Winterfell’s grounds that morning. Food was running scarce and there were people, wildfolk and commoners, Knights and squires; men, women and children to feed and look after. Jon and the Lords of the Northern Houses have agreed to a pact to share their resources so no one in the North would go cold and hungry. If Lord Cerywn words rang true, it would be a fierce and long winter they would have to endure.

Sansa had to give the message to Jon. After all, it was meant for him. Sansa didn’t trust anyone enough to hold on to the scroll when it was handed to her from Ser Davos. Jon may have his unyielding trust in him but Sansa didn’t. Nothing wrong with the old man, in fact he was a pleasant man, Sansa just needed some semblance of control in her life lately. She was indeed Lady of Winterfell, she decided it was time to act like one.

“Brienne.” Sansa called out for Brienne to enter.

“My Lady,” Brienne stepped in from her post at the door and nodded. Sansa smiled at the lady knight, her knight in shining armour. If it wasn’t for Brienne, Sansa would have been food for Ramsay’s wretched hounds. Sansa had no desire to further burden her sworn guard and sword, deciding that Brienne deserved some rest and respite tonight and the day after. Besides, Jon would keep her company. They would need to have a long talk tonight. There was much to discuss.

“Please let Jon know to come meet me here when he returns from his hunt. I need to have a word with him.” Brienne nodded at Sansa’s instruction.

“Would he be required to know what it is about, my Lady? If he asks.” Sansa glanced again at the broken seal of the scroll that laid on her desk.

“Tell him, a raven came. From Castle Black. It’s.. A family matter,” Sansa paused to find the words without sounding too strange for Brienne to notice. She had astute powers of observation and Sansa didn’t want to cause unnecessary worry or unwanted attention.

“Yes, my Lady.” Sansa watched the door close behind Brienne and called out to her again, Sansa had almost forgotten.

“Oh and Brienne, why don’t you and Podrick take a rest tonight and tomorrow. Jon will be here with me. I trust him to look after me while you rest,” Sansa smiled as Brienne paused at the door. With a nod of approval, Brienne went out in search of Jon. It would be good to get some rest, perhaps run a hot bath to soothe her aching muscles. Brienne was sure Podrick would appreciate an evening on his own as well. The battle took place almost two moons past, since then it had been nothing but rebuilding and restoring the deteriorating castle and its grounds. Hard work she had been accustomed to but she was after all, human.

The sound of hooves and neighs Sansa heard from a distance signalled Jon’s return. Sansa felt her heart skip a beat and butterflies in her stomach. It was strange that she felt that. Sansa shook off her nerves before it got the better of her. She waited for Jon to come to her and in her mind, prepared her heart in telling Jon of the news she had for him. The hard knock on her door came sooner than expected, perhaps Brienne had been at the gates the moment he arrived.

“Sansa, you wanted to speak with me?” Jon peered in as he opened the door slightly. Sansa nodded for him to step in. She noticed the snowflakes in his hair and his reddened cheeks. Must have been quite the hunt.

“Jon, come sit with me.” Sansa pointed to the armchairs facing the fireplace. She still needed time to reveal properly what she knew. Jon walked to one of them and leaned back on the chair he was sitting on. It felt a little strange stepping into Father’s room as Jon observed his surroundings. His eyes fell on Sansa who was seated opposite of him, looking solemn and holding a scroll. Sansa’s eyes were downcast, Jon was curious as to why she did, Sansa had always been quite forward and been usually herself with him. Something was different, something had happened. Whatever it was, it was in that scroll. Jon inhaled deeply and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands tightly clenched in anticipation.

“Jon… A raven came. From Castle Black. I saw the seal. I don’t know how else to tell you but before you read it, please remember Father. And his words to you. And again I am so sorry for whatever I’ve said or done to you in the past. I know you’ll forgive me but it means even more to me now.”

Jon’s hands clenched even tighter, and took the scroll from Sansa as she handed it to him.

Sansa watched Jon as he read it, trying to decipher what was going through Jon’s mind as his eyes moved to read the words, line by line. He stopped and stared at it. Jon’s eyes were wide as he glanced at Sansa, probably looking for answers. He was in disbelief. Shock couldn’t even describe what he felt. Sansa felt sorry as Jon dropped his head into his hands.

“Jon.. Jon! Talk to me please… I’m sorry you had to find out like this. But like Bran said… There isn’t much time…”

“Bran’s alive? Sansa we have to get him back, to come home. Do you know what this means? And about..” Jon couldn’t bring himself to say it. Sansa’s bright blue eyes were now intently on him, as if waiting for him to say it.

“Jon, Father protected you. He didn’t want others to know who you were… Who your mother was. And that means.. You’re not a bastard. We’re family. We’re cousins, Jon..” Sansa stopped as she watched Jon leap to his feet. He was pacing back and forth now, the scroll still clutched in his hands.

“No, no! I am the blood of Ned Stark! He was our father! I am no Targaryen! Those murderers are not part of me… No Sansa! It can’t be..” Jon’s distraught voice bellowed through the chambers and almost shook Sansa to her core. Sansa wasn’t prepared for this, much like Jon. Jon dropped to his knees and keeled over, his body heaving and wracked with sobs. After all they had been through, Jon and Sansa could not stand another blow. Jon went silent as he looked up and faced Sansa. Sansa’s heart almost broke as she saw his tears and the agony that overtook him. She felt her own tears forming and delicately rolled down her cheek.

“Sansa, please tell me, that this is not true. That this was just an impostor. Why did you have to give me this? Sansa, please I can’t…” Jon’s quivering voice gave way to crying. Jon cried on Sansa’s lap, the only comfort she could give him. Sansa stroked his curls gently as she wiped away her own tears.

“But Jon.. You needed to know. I’m so happy that Bran is alive, we can take relief in that at least. Jon, please look at me.. We need to stay strong together. Please don’t give up now, Jon.. Please Jon. I-I need you… I don’t have anyone else but you,” Sansa pleaded with Jon as he slowly looked up at her with teary red eyes, her hands cupping his bearded face. Sansa was crying with him. It pained him to see her cry. Jon closed his eyes for a second and inhaled deeply. He was still King in the North. And he was still family after all. Sansa gave Jon a soft smile as she tucked away a stray curl from his face. Jon took whatever that was left in him to calm himself. Sansa wished she could do more for him. There were so many feelings that went through her very being, but one thing she knew she had to do was be there for him and hold him. After all, she was the one who gave him the scroll. Sansa’s arms went around him in a tight embrace that almost immediately soothed his nerves. Her skin smelled of lavender and lemon, so familiar and comforting. True enough there were only them now. Jon held on to Sansa for as long as he could. She was a balm to the sting that pierced through his core.

Sansa never felt relief like the one that washed over her as she embraced Jon. The truth was a painful one but liberating. At least for her. Father was still an honourable man, there was no blemish upon the Stark name like it had been before. Sansa couldn’t help but feel proud of Father and Jon. She felt happy for Jon too, now that he had finally known who his mother was. There were so many things that raced through her mind.

Jon pulled away and looked into Sansa’s calm blue eyes. She was right, they only had each other for that moment, for now. And he had to make the best of it.

“Am I still your King?” Jon quietly wondered out loud. Sansa wasn’t sure what came over her, overwhelmed by affections and emotions, or perhaps it was a reciprocating gesture on her part – that she bowed her head slightly and kissed Jon on his lips. Her lips lingered even though she felt Jon slightly jerk away, no doubt that he was taken aback by her actions. Sansa didn’t know why she didn’t let go, she had never felt like that with anyone. It was a first for her. But a second later, she felt Jon lean into her kiss, his lips were soft and smooth and Sansa’s lips parted slightly as she took in a breath. It came out as a whimper. Jon pulled away, confused as his eyes questioned hers. Jon couldn’t deny a slight stirring rising up within him.

Sansa covered her mouth and looked away, embarrassed by what she had done.

“Sansa.. I’m sorry… I don’t.. I don’t understand,” Jon stammered as he tried to make sense of what had just occurred. It was becoming a very confusing evening for him. Sansa’s eyes didn’t dare to look upon him as he questioned her. All she could do was shrug.

“I’m sorry Jon.. I just felt so happy for you, for Father now that we know the truth. I just… I was just glad that you’re here safe with me, that we’re together,” Sansa tried her best to explain. It was true, she was extremely relieved that they were together, both of them rebuilding Winterfell together and hoping that one day Bran and Arya, wherever she was, would return to.

Jon didn’t say a word as he gazed into her eyes, he understood completely what she had meant. He understood when she said she was overcome by her emotions, Jon felt the same, overwhelmed like she was. Although the touch of her lips on his, set off something in him that exploded within. He had a hunger, a need he didn’t think would ever surface again. Jon was overcome by something else entirely as he crashed his lips onto a surprised Sansa, fiercely parting her lips with his tongue in search of hers. May the gods forgive him or banish him to hell, but all he craved was a woman’s touch.

And Sansa tasted perfect in every way, in ways he never thought possible.

[kittensjonsa]

Yours Is Mine  (Alayne p.2)

for @jonxsansafanfiction Valentine’s Day 9: Fantasy.

sorry i’m a day late - life got in the way :p

Part 2 of Alayne and it’s a little long :) slight Angst and some strong language. Might be multi chapters - depends on the response i guess but i’ll post this on ao3 instead. Thanks for reading! xx

***********

"You know there will be questions, Jon. And I don't quite know how or what to tell them. Bran and Arya, if they see you... " Sansa broke the silence, saying out loud what both of them had been thinking. The night had worn them out, drained them of tears and words. The emotional upheaval shook them both and one they weren't quite prepared for. Sansa and Jon didn't leave each other's arms till sleepiness finally took over. The breakfast he had ordered for both of them remained untouched.

"I'll take care of it, Sans. It's all on me, I'll speak to them. I miss them too," Jon gently assured her. The least he could do was show up and face them and answer any questions that they had. He was certain there was going to be a lot of questions, as Sansa had mentioned. He was prepared to deal with the anger and the grief. They had a right to feel that way.

“Jon, I should get going. I don’t like leaving Bran alone for too long,” Sansa shifted in her seat and stood up. Jon noticed she was still wearing the silk chemise he had bought for Alayne. Sansa had grown into a beautiful young woman, gone were the freckles and wiry red hair. Sansa was a bombshell, Jon observed as his eyes ran all over his estranged cousin. Jon looked away when he felt the familiar ache creep up, clothed in his boxers.

“Of course, can I drop you off?”

Sansa was too tired to object and shrugged, and changed into back into her clothes from the night before. ----------- Sansa was right, Jon didn’t know how to answer Bran and Arya’s questions or handle their outbursts, he had just let them vent out their anger and frustration at him. In the end, Bran was the most optimistic and welcoming in Jon’s return than Arya was and understandably so. Jon couldn’t complain, it had gone better than expected and Sansa’s encouraging presence helped a great deal.

“You should move in here. We have the extra room,” Bran suggested at dinner one evening. Sansa glanced cautiously at Jon as his eyes met hers.

“It will be nice to have the family back again. You are family Jon. You’re a Targaryen but Aunt Lyanna’s only son. You should live here with us. Besides, it will be awesome to have you around like old times,” Bran contemplated, looking to Sansa for support.

“Yeah, I’d like that very much,” Jon agreed wholeheartedly. It had gotten considerably manageable and civil after the fateful reunion a few months ago. Jon had promised Sansa he was going to be there for all of them and that was exactly what he was going to do. He had come by the Stark house almost every day since.

“Well, in that case I better get your room ready then,” Sansa offered with a smile. Jon was still the same old Jon after all. -------------------------- Jon had no inkling how much his life would change for the better after getting in touch with the Starks. He delighted in coming home to a family, a luxury he had not experienced for a long while. Being cared for like the fortunate human being that he was, with a home cooked meal at the end of the day, catching up with Bran and having a laugh with Sansa and sometimes a grunt or two from Arya, made him that much more complete. Jon was grateful Sansa had given him a chance that night, despite the unsavoury premise of their first meeting. She forgave him that same night. The Sansa he knew now was sweet, kind, soft spoken and well mannered like how she had always been. Only this time her qualities only amplified her beauty. Jon wondered if there had been any suitors in the midst.

Summer had just begun and it was only appropriate the young ones in the household needed to let off some steam and enjoy their youth. Bran had gone off to camp and Arya went on a school trip with her classmates. It was just Sansa and Jon by themselves.

They were sitting together quietly by the fire, Jon reading his book and Sansa with her cross stitching. They had occasionally glanced in each other’s directions, smiling and appreciating one another’s comforting presence.

“So, tell me, how come you, a Targaryen hasn’t had a date for so long? Ever since you’ve been here, you’ve not been out with anyone. I hope we aren’t cramping your style,” Sansa giggled as she teased Jon, hoping to get a reaction from him.

“Why are you asking me this? What about you? I haven’t seen you out dating either. Already keen to kick me out, eh?” Jon shot back, putting his book down and wagged his finger playfully at Sansa.

“Well, look at the both of us now, sitting at home, by the fire reading and stitching. I think this is it Jon, we’re officially old,” Sansa laughed at her situation. After she had left the agency, her personal life was much quieter now. She would get a text or two from her regular clients but it was all there was to it and nothing more. It was good waking up not feeling guilt and shame. Her new counsellor job at the youth centre made her feel purposeful.

“No we’re not. We’re just content. And at peace. It’s been a while I felt this way,” Jon thought out loud, wistfully.

“Oh? And when was the last time?” Jon sighed, he didn’t like bringing up bad memories, but this family was no stranger to them.

“I was almost married once. It felt good having someone. Having someone to come home to, to talk with, to spend time with and do everything together. She was going to be my wife but one day she decided she didn’t want to anymore.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry Jon. I didn’t meant to bring all that up,” Sansa’s heart went out to him. Jon had proven himself to be gentle, generous and tender hearted. A little brooding perhaps but Sansa guessed that was part of his charm. Jon shrugged, it was all in the past and he didn’t like looking back or stepping back in it.

“I won’t deny I miss that. I miss her too as well. Can’t help it since we’ve always had fantastic se-“ Jon paused abruptly, embarrassed to go on further. As close as he was to Sansa now, they had never spoken frankly or intimately of their personal lives. Sansa paused her cross stitch and watched Jon.

“Fantastic sex?” she finished the sentence for him. Jon nodded sheepishly. Sansa smiled. She missed that too.

“It happens when you’ve been with someone for a long time. But yeah, a few years ago, to answer your question.”

Sansa picked up her cross stitch again and continued, although this time her mind was on something else. She stole quick glances at Jon whenever he wasn’t looking in her direction and watched him intently. For all that he had done in bringing her family together again, Sansa believed that he too deserved happiness. She wondered if there was anything she could do. Whatever Jon wanted she would be willing to give, if it brought him joy. Seeing him happy was now her mission.

“So, say if you were married and had a wife, what’s she like?” Sansa asked quietly, trying to keep her focus on the needle and thread in her fingers. She heard Jon shift in his seat.

“Hmm... good question, Sans. Gosh, how would I know? I should be a good husband to her first I guess,” Jon pondered, his book now closed and placed aside. Sansa did the same with her stitching.

“What would she do for you, what would she say... what would she wear?” Sansa probed on, an idea forming in her head as she waited for Jon’s response.

“My wife? Well, she doesn’t have to do much. I guess if it’s one thing she needs to do is cook because I sure as hell can’t. And we’ll have dinner together just the two of us, talking about every day stuff, and we’ll talk about our day at work, the gossip in the office, then talk about our families... I’m sorry I’m rambling on.”

“No, no carry on, I’m listening.”

“Well, we wouldn’t argue since I adore her too much to say no so I’ll agree to whatever she’ll say. I mean, she’s my wife, right? What will she wear? I guess she’ll be wearing those skirts, you know the ones that cling, because I love it when she shows her curves,” Jon continued, grinning and thoroughly enjoying imagining his fantasy spouse.

“What about in bed? What will she be wearing in bed?” Sansa prodded on, not sure why she asked it. Jon paused to think, wondering if Sansa was mocking him and if he should play along.

“In bed? Oh, she would be a vixen in bed, black and red lingerie and stockings and all the works. Straight from a Victoria’s Secret catalogue,” Jon joked, even though the imagery sent tingles to his loins. Sansa smiled. The idea was already in her head now and all it needed now was precise execution. ----------------------- Sansa took some time off early from work that day to prepare a special dinner. She had picked out the perfect pencil skirt with a thigh high slit and a red off shoulder blouse that bared a little skin and showed off her curves. Only thing now was contemplating whether she should put on the black and red silk teddy with the stockings and garter belt. She wondered if she was pushing it too far. Sansa decided to anyway, she loved lingerie, it made her feel confident and good in it. It had been too long since she felt confident or good. Sansa took one last look in the mirror and waited for him to come home.

“Hey Sansa, you home? I thought-“ Jon stopped dead in his tracks as Sansa appeared from the kitchen and gave him a lingering peck on the cheek. Her lips were dangerously close to his. Jon was stunned, partly from the kiss and partly from how dazzling she looked.

“Hi honey,” Sansa greeted him and handed him a beer. Jon stared at her in confusion, puzzled if she was pulling a prank on him.

“Umm.. hi. Sansa, you look amazing. And whatever you’re cooking smells fantastic,” Jon greeted her, trying to act normal.

“It’s Coq Au Vin, I made your favourite. And I also got us a bottle of your favourite wine so why don’t you sit down and make yourself comfortable, honey,” Sansa turned him around and led him to the dining table. Jon read the label on the wine bottle. True enough it was his favourite. And the meal too. It didn’t take long for Jon to realise what was going on. Sansa felt a grip on her wrist as she poured him a glass. Jon was staring at her now, his eyes dark and dangerous.

“Sansa, whatever joke you’re pulling now for whatever reason, it’s not funny. Stop it now. Or I’ll make you,” Jon warned her. Sansa sat down and faced him.

“Jon, let me do this for you. For all that you’ve done for me, I want to see you happy. Please let me do this for you,” Sansa pleaded, trying to free her wrist of his grip.

“Do what Sansa? What is the meaning of all this?”

“I wanted to let you, for a day, see what it’s like in having a wife. That’s all. Whatever you said two nights ago, I wanted to make it real for you.”

“You don’t have to Sansa. Did you think that I’m here because I want something in return from you?” Jon’s eyes were now staring holes right into her. Sansa didn’t see what was wrong with the surprise. A lump slowly formed in her throat.

“No Jon! I just wanted to do something for you, something to remember, I won’t make you do anything I promise! I just wanted to do this for you, the least I could,” Sansa felt her eyes watering and her voice quivering. Jon finally let her hand go. He covered his face with his hands. Sansa turned away and stood up to leave the table. Perhaps this was all just a bad idea.

“Sansa, you don’t have to. I’m here for you because I care for you. That’s all that matters. What I want doesn’t matter as long as you’re happy,” Jon confessed, his eyes turning slightly red. Sansa didn’t want to face him anymore as she wiped away a tear. What was she thinking?

“Sansa. Listen. You don’t have to do this to make me happy. You already do. Seeing you every day when I come home, makes me happy, talking to you every day makes me happy. Hearing you laugh makes me happy. You are the reason why I’m happy every single fucking day! You know why that is? Because I fucking love you, Sansa Stark. Your happiness is my happiness and I will just fucking shoot myself  if I ever leave you again,” Jon continued, his own voice quaking with emotion.

Sansa twirled around and saw a dejected Jon facing her. She saw it all wrong. He was talking about her, he was describing her and he saw only her. That fantasy of his was all real life as he saw it every day in her. Sansa walked over to Jon and cupped his face in her hands. Their lips were only inches away. How she adored this man, now more than ever.

“Then, let don’t ever leave me, Jon. I promise you, I’ll do my best to make you a happy man.”