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nyangibun · 7 years

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Little Wolf: Part V

@jonsa-countdown

PART I | PART II | PART III | PART IV - AO3 LINK

PART V: SONGS

January 10, 2016

“I feel like a frozen watermelon,” Margaery complained. She had a protective hand over her engorged belly and another one pressed over her eyes.

It was a typical frosty winter, no different than the last. Snow blanketed the rolling hills and mountaintops, driving most of Winterfell and its neighbouring towns indoors. The temperature had dropped into the negatives late last night. Sansa had come over to watch over Margaery, while Robb, Jon and their team traveled further north to help search for missing hikers. Every year, there was always a couple who thought they could brave the Scottish weather, and every year, the Fire and Rescue team would have to go out and save them. Sansa didn’t want to think badly of people she didn’t know and who were probably already scared beyond their wits, but every time it happened, it was her brother and her friends’ lives on the line and it angered her that there were people that foolish.

“I can heat up a hot water bottle for you.”

Margaery removed her hand, blinking at Sansa, and smiled. “It’s okay. I’m not that uncomfortable yet. Give me a few months though and you might just have to move in. God knows your brother is useless.”

Sansa chuckled. “Robb tries, but…”

“He’s easily distracted?” Margaery snorted and shifted so she could lean against the sofa. “I know. Trust me.”

It had taken awhile for Sansa to warm up to Margaery when they first started dating three years ago. The brunette was kind and sweet, but Sansa always had the underlying sense that she never said what she meant. This proved to be true the more Sansa got to know her, but Margaery was an ambitious woman in a male-dominated world. She learned a long time ago that in order to succeed in life she had to keep her cards close to her chest; otherwise men will try to undermine her at every given opportunity. Sansa could understand that. In fact, learning to steel oneself away from the world was a lesson she had learned all too well, and that had been the defining moment in their friendship. Knowing that about Margaery made Sansa like her infinitely more, and knowing Sansa understood made Margaery more open to her as well.

But being close to Margaery Tyrell-Stark also meant the woman was as shrewd as ever in reading her.

“What’s going on with you and Jon?”

No holding punches; just blunt interrogation.

Sansa resolutely kept her eyes glued to the tv. “We’re friends.”

“Don’t. You can fool Robb, but c’mon. Friends don’t eyefuck each other from across the room.” At Sansa’s groan, Margaery made a triumphant little noise. “Indulge a pregnant woman.”

“Jon is Jon, Marg. I don’t know what you want me to say,” she sighed, already feeling exhausted with this conversation. It was one Jeyne brought up quite frequently, and even Theon at one point, but that was a drunken awkward conversation she’d rather forget. “He’s…”

“Your perfect soulmate?” Margaery supplied. She squealed with laughter when Sansa kicked her foot. “Okay, fine. You’re friends. Do you want something more?”

“No,” she answered a little too quickly. “After Petyr, I just…” She hesitated. This was something she hadn’t ever told anyone before, not even Jeyne, but maybe it was time to confess. “The thought of anyone touching me makes me feel dirty and I don’t want to feel that way about Jon.”

Margaery’s hand slipped into Sansa’s. She squeezed lightly. “You know it’ll pass, don’t you, Sans? That feeling will go away.”

“When?” she demanded. “When will I stop looking over my shoulder and imagining his face there? Because it hasn’t stopped and I just – Jon means too much to me, Marg. I can’t let this taint him the way it has everything else in my life.”

“So, he’ll wait.” Her friend looked at her with such sincerity in her words it made Sansa’s heart ache because it simply wasn’t true.

“And I’d be a bitch to ask him to,” Sansa pointed out. “Jon deserves better.”

“Better than you?” Margaery snorted. “There’s no such thing, babe.”

Thankfully, Sansa was saved from replying when the door burst open. A swirl of snow swept into the house, as Robb and Theon carried a limping Jon over to the adjacent sofa. Sansa immediately stood up, panicked and worried. Jon’s face was contorted in pain.

“What happened?” Margaery asked. She wiggled, but then decided standing up was too much of an effort for her. “Are you alright?”

Jon sighed. “Slipped. It’s nothing.” When Sansa moved towards him, he put up a hand, his smile fond but tired. “Sans, I’m okay I promise.”

She rolled her eyes as she settled on her knees to take a look at his leg. “Where does it hurt?”

“We already checked. Nothing’s broken, but he probably twisted his knee, the prick.” Her brother had his arms crossed over his chest. The Robb Stark sign of abject displeasure. “We told him not to be a hero, but he just had to go and do it anyway.”

“What did he do?” She glanced towards her brother, whose eyes betrayed his anger. He was just as concerned as her.

“Their knapsack got stuck on the side of a cliff with their cameras inside. Apparently, it had a year’s worth of photos.” Robb didn’t sound impressed, and neither was Sansa.

“So you decided it was your job to save it?” she demanded of the man before her. Jon had the good sense to look regretful. Sansa still stood up and smacked his shoulder. “You numpty.”

He caught her hand before she could pull back and circled his fingers around her wrist. “I’m sorry, Sansa.” Jon’s eyes looked earnest, but he also looked like he was more sorry for worrying her than getting injured. “Hey, forgive me?”

She pursed her lips and shook her head. “No.” Sansa turned back to her brother and friends. “I assume you brought him here so I could drive him home?”

Theon looked sheepish. “His flat is on the opposite side of town. We just figured you’d want to since you two are –”

Margaery kicked him harshly in the shin, causing Theon to yelp loudly. She smiled sweetly back. “Since you two are such good friends.” She turned her smile onto her husband. “Robb, honey, can you help me up the stairs? All this drama is making me sleepy.”

It wasn’t the most subtle save, but Robb was all too eager to please his pregnant wife, so he nodded and quickly went over to help Margaery up.

“Let yourselves out. Night!” she called as the two disappeared up the stairs.

Theon rubbed his leg and sighed. “My cue to leave too. Call me tomorrow, Snow. And uh, sorry, Sans. Bye.”

As the door clicked shut and the voices of Margaery and Robb disappeared behind their bedroom, Sansa sighed, running her free hand through her hair. Jon laughed and tugged her towards him. “Don’t,” she said. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I’m fine,” he emphasised. He still had his hand wrapped around her wrist, soothing the worry that he was in any danger tonight. “There was a moment when I thought that this might be it,” he admitted quietly. He watched her carefully as he spoke. “It was a split second truthfully, barely worth mentioning, but in that second I thought, ‘god, I can’t die. I still have to take Sansa to the Chelsea Flower Show.’”

Sansa laughed. “Really? That was what you were thinking about?”

“Yeah,” Jon smirked, as he dropped her hand and leaned back against the sofa, a picture of ease. “I can’t disappoint my favourite girl.”

Warmth bloomed in her chest, the kind of unbidden hope and affection she didn’t want. Sansa stepped away. “We should get you home. It’s getting late.” If Jon noticed the abrupt change, he didn’t comment on it. He merely nodded and stood up shakily on one leg. Sansa immediately went to shoulder his weight. “Are you sure you shouldn’t go to A&E?”

“If it doesn’t get better in a couple days, I’ll go. Will that make you feel better?”

“Make it twenty-four hours.”

“You got it, Princess Sansa.” He bowed his head and tugged on the end of her hair like he always did when he thought he was being cute. Sansa snorted. Together, they half stumbled their way to her car.

Once they were on the road, Jon began to fiddle restlessly with the car radio. He changed channels so many times Sansa was two seconds away from hitting the brakes and throwing him out into the cold. Finally, he stopped, a bright smile pulling on his lips.

“I love this song.” He turned his whole body so he could look at her. “My mum used to sing it to me, but she’d replace ‘girl’ with ‘boy’.”

“With your curls, Snow, you could easily have passed for a girl,” Sansa told him, winking.

He laughed and shook his head. “Actually, people used to think I was a girl. Mum said I had such a full head of hair as a baby that people just assumed. I guess it didn’t help she dressed me in pinks and yellows all the time.”

“I bet you were a cute chubby baby.” And she bet he had the rosiest cheeks and the sweetest eyes. Oh, how she would have loved to see baby pictures of Jon. Unfortunately, the fire that took Lyanna’s life had also taken a good chunk of Jon’s childhood. So many memories lost in the ashes.

Jon shrugged, adorable little spots of pink on his cheeks. He didn’t say anything for awhile, but then suddenly in an incredibly off-key pitch, he started to sing. “Well I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way?” He leaned forward. “My girl. Ooh, talking about my girl. My girl!”

“Jon Snow, you are absurd.” But even so, Sansa couldn’t help the laughter bubbling through, as he continued to sing loudly and very badly. He even made hand gestures. And she was embarrassed to admit that every time he pointed at her when he sang, ‘my girl’, hundreds of little butterflies flapped their wings excitedly in her stomach.

For the first time in months, as she sat here driving in the middle of the night with Jon singing beside her, Sansa felt free and unburdened by life’s realities. In this very moment, nothing could touch her. Not her past; not her insecurities; not even the knowledge that this was likely all there would ever be between them, because it didn’t matter. Jon was her best friend, the one person she counted on to always be there for her, and that was enough. She didn’t want or need any more.

May 14, 2017 - Present Day

It was getting warmer. The weather report said there would be a heat wave soon sometime at the end of May, which worried Sansa. She didn’t want Chloe to overheat. From all of the books she’d read about parenting, that was dangerous for a child as young as her. At the earliest opportunity, Sansa headed out to buy Chloe a fan for her room. It wasn’t hot enough yet for there to be a fan, but she wanted to be prepared in case the heat wave hit a week or so early. Weather reports weren’t always accurate after all.

Only half of the shops were opened this early on a Sunday. The first two stores she went to didn’t even sell fans yet, and by the fourth, Sansa’s irritability was at an all-time high, so of course that was the exact moment her arch nemesis at work decided to call after her from down the street.

“Sansa, dear, it’s so nice to see you!”

She grit her teeth and forced a smile onto her face. “Melissa, hi. It’s lovely to see you too.”

“We’ve missed you terribly at work,” the dark-haired woman said in her false dulcet tone. Sansa loathed her. Melissa Ferretti had been eyeing her job for the past year. It was one of the reasons why Sansa had such a hard time going on maternity leave at first, but in the end, Chloe always came before anything else. Still, she hated Melissa.

“I miss everyone there too,” Sansa said politely, hoping she sounded more sincere than she felt.

Melissa smiled broadly. “When do you think you’ll be back? I hope it’s soon.”

She very well knew that Sansa was taking close to a year off. She wasn’t going to half-arse raising Chloe. If she needed to, Sansa would rather quit her job than neglect her little wolf. “I can’t say yet. Chloe is still adjusting, so we’ll have to see.”

“We?”

It had been second nature to her for the past four months to refer to Jon and her as a ‘we’. She forgot most people still knew her as Single Sansa. She should tell Melissa that Jon was simply her co-parent and platonic housemate, but the surprise in her eyes made Sansa feel a little smug.

“Jon and I,” she said casually. “Actually, he’s with her right now and I promised I’d be home as soon as I’m done with my errands, so I’m afraid I have to run now. We should catch up sometime, Melissa.”

Sansa gave the other woman a perfunctory hug and quickly sped away before Melissa could start asking questions about who Jon was. “Okay, um… I’ll see you around!” Sansa heard from behind her. The smile now on her face was anything but insincere; it was perfectly self-satisfied.

After another ten minutes of wandering through town, Sansa finally found a sizeable fan and began her journey back home. The storm from a month ago appeared to have cleared Scotland for summer. The grass looked brighter and the sun more prominent even on cloudy days. She had lived in London for four years, but being down there had only cemented her love for the north. People up here were kinder, more generous with their feelings and there was a sense of community here that London lacked. Most importantly, this was home. Growing up, that had never meant much to her, not in the way it did for the other Starks. Sansa had always felt different, a runt in a pack of wild wolves. She left for London in the hopes that the dreams she harboured as a child would come true – glittering lights, new adventures and all the culture and art she could digest. In the end, Sansa found only heartbreak and an aching desire for home. Winterfell would always be where she belonged. Small as it was in comparison, it was the best place she knew, and driving through the hillside now towards her small little house, Sansa had never been more sure she made the best possible decision. If she hadn’t come home, she never would’ve had those last precious years with Robb and Margaery.

Pulling up into her driveway, Sansa noticed the window was open in Chloe’s nursery. Jon must be up. She hadn’t expected him to be awake yet. He got home at nearly three in the morning last night after what she presumed was a very late shift. She heard him stumbling about in the dark for a few minutes before his door shut and then silence. Late night shifts for them usually meant harrowing rescues and a part of her longed to speak to him about it, just to make sure he was doing okay, but they hadn’t really spoken much since that incident in town. She knew she didn’t have a right to be angry with him. Jon hadn’t done a single thing wrong except greet an old friend. It was Sansa with the problem, but confronting it seemed too complicated. It would only bring up things neither wanted to talk about right now.

Sansa left the fan on the floor in the lounge as she made her way up to Chloe’s nursery. The door was ajar, his voice drifting to where she stood frozen at the top of the stairs.

“I've got so much honey the bees envy me. I've got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees. Well I guess you'd say, what can make me feel this way?” Chloe giggled loudly, clapping her hands together, and she heard Jon’s responding chuckle. “That’s right, lil’ wolf. It’s you. You’re my girl. My favourite girl.”

Tears welled in her eyes. A part of her still thought of Chloe as her niece and resisted the idea of calling her Sansa’s daughter, but not for Jon. The moment he found out in the will what Robb and Margaery wanted, Chloe was his. And that became so crystal clear to her now. She was his daughter. It wasn’t Chloe Tyrell-Stark any longer. It was Chloe Snow-Stark. She was as much apart of Sansa’s family as she was apart of Jon’s.

And whatever happened in their past, they owed it to Chloe to figure out, as complicated as it may be. Sansa needed to move forward.

#jonsacountdown #jonsa #jon x sansa #jon snow #sansa stark #game of thrones #jonsa fic #jonsa countdown #little wolf fic #my fics #day 5 prompt #long post

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