#ladymdfic

[ladywolfmd]

“I’ve been waiting for you to come back.”

Following a prompt, here’s a take on what Robb would feel about Jon and Sansa’s relationship. (This and since Sansa’s been needlessly put up in Starkbowl, I had to bring back a sibling from the dead to support her). 

This is also up in AO3: 

A gift for @thewinterose who gave the prompt. I hope you like it. 

Awesome Art for this by @lucife56 Link to her site here.  (Posted with permission) 

She doesn’t even feel safe in her own home and the thought enrages him as much as it saddens him - leaves him buried in guilt - guilt he can never atone for.He watches, as he’s always done ever since she came back, he watches her save for when he knows she needs her privacy the most, especially when eyes follow her wherever she goes rendering her to keep her walls up.

So he watches her how he should’ve watched over her ever since the moment he first saw her - a beautiful babe with the same eyes and hair as he.

He could still remember the first thing he ever said to her as he held her tiny hand in his then.

“Hello Sansa! I am your big brother Robb. I love you little one. I’ll protect you!“

It ate at him to look back at the memory of her so small - so fragile - so very innocent and beautiful and his to protect as their Lord Father tasked them with when he took him to meet his sister for the first time.

And how had he fulfilled that duty?

And how could he fulfill that duty now?

He used to be his sister’s favored knight or prince or king who rescues the princess he always calls her as during times when she’d ask him to play.

What was he now?

A shadow in the darkness.

He smiled bitterly.

No wonder him and his half-brother no more switched roles.

Jon Snow, King in the North.

Robb Stark, a Watcher in the Wall.

Such was his punishment, he believes. To be stuck as some kind of silent ghost trapped within the walls of Winterfell, doomed to bear witness to what happened when he lost the North.

When he looked at his mother that last time, he knew.

He knew he was never going home.

But here he was.

Home.

Just in time to watch his home burn by the same men that brought him down.

Winter is coming, he said then. But the flames came first.

He watched his home burning, covered in soot and smoke until the white blanket that covered what was left of it wasn’t thick from snow than it was thick with ashes.

He watched.

And he dared not close his eyes, not even for a moment, not even if he could.

He watched everything.

How the man who killed him took his life - his crown - his future for his own.

And how his sister, the first wolf who came home to reclaim it despite the ruin and the danger, the one he was supposed to protect, died every night on top of the bed that used to be his - her blood and tears soaking the ashes of what’s left of their home as they took from her what remained of their name, their claim, their power, their pride.

He watched as she took back their home with what’s left of her innocence the heavy price she paid.

And she’s been paying with that, her songs and dreams stripping away from her each time, he knew, from the moment their father was arrested, she was paying with what she could give while he knew she held on to faith that he would rescue her.

But he never did, did he?

Now he watched as she stood in front of his former chambers - her prison cell. Watched as she slid down the floor and rested her back against the boarded and cemented off room after asking to be excused from the council meeting so she could have a moment of solitude, her female knight guarding the stairs that lead to this hallway.

She had not been here, not even in the same wing, for moons now.

But now she was.

He dared not close his eyes now either knowing something significant would happen for her to be here.

She sat there still and silent like a statue, her face that same impassive mask she perfected was there save for that tiny furrow between her brow that relieved him for he so hated that mask though it was one that showed her steel, it was forged in fires from the seven hells she endured.

Slowly, she moved. Retrieving something from her cloak.

At the sight of them he felt restless and even scared.

In her hands were his letters, the ones he never sent as well as ones he did send but hid from her, the ones Arya painstakingly searched when she heard of their existence, the ones she gifted as part of her wedding present for our sister.

Time seemed to pass like an eternity as he watched her contemplate on opening them.

He wanted nothing more but to take her hands in his, look her in the eyes, and urge her to open them. Read them.

He knows she’s had them for days, nearly a sennight.

Slowly, and tenderly, one by one, she was finally reading them.

He watched as her eyes so much like his before, widened and moistened, her mouth parting and closing as her jaw trembled - how her whole body followed soon after.

Watched as tears fell like silent rivers, never accompanied by the whimpers and sobs she was keeping tightly under control.

He wanted to hold her and wipe her tears and cry with her as he saw her hardened eyes grow softer and softer.

He knew she already forgave him a long time ago even if he didn’t deserve it.

He knew she had already made peace with what he had to do.

He knew how much she defended him still, making him out to be an honorable man despite his failings - despite failing her the most.

But it was only now as he watches her trace his words over the paper and bring them clutched close to her chest as she wept on silently, the tiniest hint of a smile ghosting over her lips that she finally found it.

Peace and closure with him.

Because among the letters he sent, one was an explanation, another an apology, but most of all, one was a promise for all three should be given separately as she deserved.

Looking at her now, vulnerable and soft, she looked like the little princess he always saw her as.

“My little princess,” he whispered as he knelt beside her and held her even if his words were nothing but wind and his hands and arms went through her when he realized why he was still here. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back.”

Because though she lit a candle for him in the crypt and though she prayed for him in the godswood, she never, not once, attempted to talk to him, not as she did before father’s statue, mother’s sept, and Rickon’s room - how she called for them, apologized and sought strength from them.

And why would she do the same for him?

His bones were yet to be lain in the crypt.

And her former husband took everything of his and tainted them with Sansa’s blood and tears. Using his own training swords, his own belts, his own daggers as if using his bed, his furs, and his room wasn’t enough.

Why would she go back to this room? When the last time she was here, despite winning the castle back, she was found scrubbing her scarred skin raw as she sat cold and naked in the tub after trashing the room and ripping her already ruined wedding dress  in her attempt to cleanse herself from any trace of the bastard monster.

He watched that too.

Helplessly.

And he watched as the brother he once knew, the one who was never truly a brother to her, do the duty he has neglected for far too long.

And that was to be her brother that night.

He was the one who helped her bathe, dressed her wounds, and made her feel safe and cared for when she hasn’t felt either for years from the moment they took father’s head.

He watched as he carried her and made sure she was warm and protected before he himself torched the room and boarded it up brick by brick while his wolf never left her.

He forgets sometimes, that her wolf, Lady was the first price she paid for an attempt at peace.

From that night, he would take time to watch Jon Snow too.

And though he was proud of him, and knew he made the right choice of naming him heir, he was jealous too.

Jon who wasn’t even a true brother to Sansa as she had neither been a true sister to him then were now the ones that had each other.

Though he knew they cared for each other deep down and knew ultimately they were kept apart by mother, and knew he was honorable and acting as so, and Sansa acting as loyal and loving as he knew her core to be, it was still there those negative feelings of his.

The jealousy.

He didn’t even want to take back Winterfell.

He didn’t even want to be King.

Yet he was the brother who followed Sansa. He was the brother that helped Sansa take back their home. He was the brother that continued to make her safety and happiness a priority as father made both of them promise before.

He was the brother he should’ve been for her in the first place, protecting her, and fighting for her as father and their late Uncle Brandon practically started a war to rescue their sister as they rode South for Aunt Lyanna during each of their time to do so. Uncle Brandon died for Aunt Lyanna. Father fought to bring her bones back while he couldn’t even trade the Kingslayer for her or name her heir.

So he could accept it, Jon being there for her now. A true brother finally to make up for what he failed.

What was it that father told them when he brought Jon and him to meet her?

“As her older brothers, it falls to the two of you to look out for your sister. Take care of her, protect her, and love her. If falls to the two of you to show her how a lady should be treated and cherished. Be the one she can look up to and turn to first for anything. She will be seeking comfort and protection only a brother can give. You may not understand it now but when you are older, you two may find yourself sheltering each your own lady wife, and she sheltered by her own lord husband, but a brother’s love is different. Be the person she can trust the most. Be the man she can trust above all men. Be loyal to each other and keep your family safe.”

And that was Jon.

A true brother she needed.

Until suddenly, he was not.

They all didn’t know then that he wasn’t their true brother, that father had to lie. It wasn’t true that in death you are suddenly omniscient. Or maybe it doesn’t apply to those punished to be ghosts.

He could understand how Sansa might confuse her feelings from being so bereft of love and kindness for so long that she has no one else to turn to but him.

But Jon should’ve known better.

How could he fall in love with his own sister?

Yes, she was lovely and easy to love when she showed her heart that she kept under iron lock and chains. And she showed it to him and him alone in complete trust, little by little, she did. And showed him what it means to be loved and cared by her.

He watched as he fell deeper. Watched as he resisted. And he was starting to think if he could live haunting him to remember why he shouldn’t have those feelings in the first place.

He wanted to shake Jon and yell that Sansa needed a brother - needed Jon to be her brother each time he strayed.

He knew his brother’s guilt. He knew it ate at him and he never acted on his feelings until he was allowed to, but it still felt like a betrayal.

So he kept on watching Sansa. Relieved that it took Sansa longer to realize, believing that everything she was doing was out of sisterly love until they weren’t and she was only comparing him to what knights and kings should be, what her husband should be, not at all that he himself should be that husband.

It was Baelish that put the idea in her mind in his attempt to take the Iron Throne through them, insinuating that a marriage between them since they were now cousins would benefit everyone.

And then he watched as Baelish told her that if she didn’t marry Jon, he’d likely be asked to marry the dragon queen. And that was all it took for Sansa to push down her reservations out of fear for Jon marrying a foreign stranger thinking that she’d rather keep him safe than risk letting him suffer the same fate she did when she rode South to be betrothed to the would-be King no matter how they say she is different. She’d rather not risk it. It wasn’t from jealousy, it wasn’t from fear for her own fate when he does, but more for his own.

And then he heard her convince herself in front of her mirror, as she examined her scarred body.

“I am not the queen he deserves and he may not want to touch me not because I am damaged, but because of ghosts, but I will be good to him. I will learn to love him. I already do, but I will do more. I can protect him. We can protect each other. The rest will follow once we allow it. Like mother and father did.”

He had to turn away then because he saw it. Saw that from this moment, she’d allow herself to love him as him and not as her brother and he felt ashamed.

Especially when he overheard her again.

“No one will ever marry me for love. At least not like the songs. At least with Jon, he loves me as family.”

Three times. She already married twice for duty, she was willing to do it again for the same reason if it came down to it.

Three times, Sansa was better than him.

He married for love and what did it cost him?

Looking at Sansa who was quietly falling in love with their former brother, tore at him.

On one side, he could accept it as Jon would be nothing but good to her and he’d protect her from marrying a stranger or an outright monster or even someone undeserving. She was right that they would protect each other. But on one side, they were tiptoeing around each others’ growing feelings. They would do their duty, but the guilt that needn’t be there would eat at them if they don’t talk about it.

But in the end, it was what Sansa wanted that mattered to him. And he could see that it was Jon who was the only one who was truly making her happy. If marrying Jon would make her happy, then he would be happy not for her but with her.

It’s not like he was one to judge.

No.

He lost that privilege long ago.

Lost the privilege of being her brother long ago when he had to, in people’s eyes, give her up.

Bran knew, he knew everything.

Arya was royally mad at him but Sansa, once again, as she did with Jon, built the bridge for their way to forgiving him.

And now she was here.

“I miss you big brother.”

“I miss you too princess,” he said so near her ear wishing she could hear him somehow.

“I told them. You did what you had to. I understood,” she finally sobbed.

He vainly tried to hold her as she shook. “I know. I know you did. You didn’t have to but you did. I don’t deserve it but I’m grateful.”

Sansa shut her eyes and clutched the letters to her chest tighter as she wept. “I wanted them to remember you as nothing but the brave and honorable king you were.”  

“I know. I know. I know. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I’m sorry,” he kept trying, chanting them to her over and over.

Then her eyes opened and they looked lighter as she broke into a small smile, sighing a breath of relief. “I knew you didn’t just abandon me. I knew it in my heart. I knew that you would never. At least not intentionally. They never believed me, not really, but now they will.”

He watched as she looked down happily at his words, his whole self-breaking into pieces that she had so much faith in him. More than he deserved but then again, he always knew.

He prided himself with being the one who knew Sansa the most and he was glad that he still did until the end. If there was anything in the wold he wouldn’t doubt, it’s Sansa’s faith in her family no matter what.

"I love you big brother. I love you Robb. I hope you're proud of me."

Robb wanted nothing but to be corporeal just so he could cry with her and hold her. "I am. I'm proud of you. So very proud of you. I love you Sans. You are doing so very well my little princess, now my queen. You are doing so beautifully, little sister."

“Sansa?”

They both turned and saw Jon then, looking more and more like father than he ever did. His grey eyes filled with worry and surprise at seeing Sansa like this and here, cautiously approaching Sansa though his hands twitched at his sides.

It was Ghost who moved on forward without hesitation, nuzzling Sansa’s cheek and licking the tears away from her face as Sansa smiled at him while she hugged him.

Jon took that as his cue to approach then, kneeling one leg before her and cradling her face tenderly with both hands while he sat where he was behind Sansa, watching this exchange as Ghost did when he trotted away to give them both space.

“What are you doing here, my love? I thought you said you were resting? Ghost lead me here,” he caressed her face while he examined her for any sign of hurt.

Sansa wrapped a hand around one of his wrists and leant her forehead against his. “Because it was time, my love.”

“Time for what?”

She leant back then and adjusted her hold on his hand, twisting it so it faced palm up where he saw she placed his letters. “To let Robb rest.”

If his heart still beat, it would’ve stopped at her sister’s words.

He watched Jon instead, his brows furrowed as he looked down at the letters and back up his wife’s face. “I don’t -

Sansa touched Jon’s cheek then and shook her head while new tears flowed but she was smiling. “I can’t explain it. But I still feel him sometimes. Like he’s watching over me. You know what kept me brave all the time? I kept thinking I must be brave like Robb. I know Arya and Bran thought that too and I know you did too. Be brave like Robb. But I also know you have reservations against him…if not for you but for me. Arya all but yelled her frustration to me but you, you’ve kept it. I know you hide it, but you still feel the guilt some times.”

He watched as Jon sighed as he leant into her touch. “Aye. Sometimes I still feel that I’m taking things from him. That all of this was meant to be his. And I look back and thought of how jealous I was of him for being heir to everything I dreamed off but never really let that jealousy take root because Robb was nothing but kind and fair to me - how he defended me and treated me like a true brother and he really did work so hard to deserve being heir. This was all supposed to be his.”

She tilted her head. “Even me?”

Jon’s eyes flew open then and saw Sansa smirking in challenge. “You said everything. Am I included?” she teased though he could see her wrinkle her nose.

He watched as Jon rolled his eyes and wound his arms around her to pull her closer. “No.” he growled. “He deserved a queen, aye. But you’re my queen. And I can’t believe you joked about-about…”

Sansa giggled then and he was with Jon in finding relief and delight in Sansa’s laughter. “I was merely asking for a clarification.”

“Sometimes, you are far too clever for your own good,” he grinned at her.

“Someone has to be clever around here,” she grinned back.

Jon looked back at the letters then and ran his knuckles against her cheek. “But really, are you okay?”

Sansa closed her eyes at his touch. “I was even before you found me, but I’m definitely feeling more than okay now,” she opened her eyes then. “So will you read them?”

Jon put the letters inside his pocket and helped Sansa to her feet. “Aye, I’ll read them. But I don’t need to read them to let Robb go peacefully now.”

He watched as a look passed between the two of them as they’ve been doing, a language they’ve learned to develop where one need not say anything to be heard.

They both looked at the barred door now, neither were smiling but nor were there hate in their eyes as they looked at it.

Well, at least, for Jon it was significantly lessened as apart from the slight tightness in his eyes that lasted a moment, his hands didn’t clench and shake as they used to whenever he passed this, kicking and punching at times he needed to get angry for Sansa without her knowing it. It was a start but he knew it was more about his anger for Sansa’s executed monster, than it was about Robb’s failings.

“Are you ready to go now, my love?” Jon looked and waited for Sansa to look back at him, nodding happily as she did.

“Just me, my love?” she blinked innocently.

Jon looked confused but Robb smirked, knowing what she meant. “And…Ghost?”

“Yes…him too. But Jon, I’m asking,” she paused before placing his free hand over her belly. “Where will we go?”

Jon’s eyes widened as comprehension dawned on him that Robb had to laugh when he gave her a look asking if it was true.

At Sansa’s nod, Jon lifted her up the same way he did when they were first reunited kissing all over her face grinning before he kissed her lips fully, breaking apart for him to kneel and kiss her stomach reverently.

“And you’re wrong, Jon. Everything, all of these? You deserve it all. Everything. Robb made the right choice in naming you heir. The North made the right choice in naming you King.”

Jon looked up at her with pure adoration. “Everything means nothing to me, if you didn’t choose me.”

They held a look then that Robb felt he need to turn away from the intensity but couldn’t.

“Why wouldn’t I choose you?”

Jon stood up then grinning while he wrapped his arm around her waist and lead her away. “Well, I’m not going to waste my time giving you answers to that and work very very hard to give you reasons to keep me.”

Sansa blushed then and swatted his arm playfully. “Jon.”

He chuckled. “I can’t help it. A babe. You’re giving me a babe. I’m going to be a father.” And then a line grew on his face that Sansa didn’t miss. Winter was here and they knew the stories, knew what could happen.

“We’ll be okay,” Sansa squeezed his hand but Jon wasn’t as convinced now that he was fearing he had more to lose if they failed.

“What did your lover use to say to you? What was it you told me?” Sansa gave him a meaningful look that Jon had to let out a breath and a half-smile at what she meant. “If we die, we die. But first we’ll live.”

“She’s right you know,” she said with no trace of jealousy or malice, only love.

“No.”

“No?”

“Because I won’t let you or our babe die. And I’m not going to die in battle too. Not with what’s waiting for me here.”

Robb knew that they both knew Jon can’t promise that but neither of them said it out loud, and chose to take the moment instead and choose to have faith in themselves and each other.

He watched as Jon looked lovingly with both desperation and determination at her while Sansa looked ahead, satisfied while she held Jon’s hand over her stomach while they walked.

With the way Jon was looking at her now, he thinks he can finally rest. Sansa didn’t need him anymore, no, she didn’t need him or the idea of him as a guide for her in the privacy of her mind, not when she had Jon now.

Really, it was all it took.

Sansa loving Jon was all it took for him to let go of all his reservations and see him how Sansa sees him as a person.

Someone brave, gentle, and strong that father always wanted for her.

Someone worthy of her.

Jon would be the tether the South needed as a Targaryen.

Jon would be the King the North needed as a Stark.

Jon would be the doting brother Arya and Bran always had.

And Jon would be the loving husband Sansa deserved just as Sansa was the adoring wife Jon deserved too.  

With one final look at the King and Queen who won the North, he realized he wasn’t just waiting for Sansa, he was waiting for Jon too.

He was surprised when Jon ran back and looked at the door again, placing a hand and closing his eyes. “Robb. Leave everything to me. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll take care of Sansa. Rest well, brother.”

Robb was struck at Jon’s words and watched gaping as Jon left just as quickly, catching up to his wife who smiled back at him as they wrapped their arms around each other.

"Bye, Stark."

"Bye, Snow."

Robb smiled slowly then finally feeling at peace at knowing the legacy he tried his best to deserve and protect, and more importantly, his family, was in safe hands.

He closed his eyes then and the next thing he saw was the yellow eyes of his old friend.

“Greywind.”

#fanfiction #robb stark #sansa stark #jonsnow #fanfic #jonsa fic #jon snow x sansa stark #robb stark & sansa stark #jonsa #ladymdfic

[ladywolfmd]

First, we'll live.

Summary: The North's King no more and the Queen who should've been are inside her chamber which he guards. He can't hear everything clearly, but the fool's white wolf beside him could. It wasn't that long ago that he stood guard over another queen's chamber and did nothing when he should've. He won't fail again.

Also on AO3.

“You’re hurting me,” they had heard Rhaella cry through the oaken door.

“We are sworn to protect her as well,” Jaime had finally been driven to say.

“We are,” Darry allowed, “But not from him.”

- Feast for Crows, Jaime

Jaime stood closer to the door he was guarding most nights than not.

Once again, he was a sworn knight to another.

Once more, he laid down his sword, his, life, and more vows.

Ser Jaime of the Kingsguard.

Shield to the Mad King Aerys Targaryen, who died by his sword.

Sword to the Usurper King Robert Baratheon, who died by his family's scheming.

Protector to King Joffrey Baratheon, who died by the Tyrell's protection for Queen Margaery.

Counsel to King Tommen Baratheon, who died by his own hand.

Partner and now traitor to Queen Cersei Lannister, who killed their love.

He laughed bitterly. Maybe Joff had the right of it when he read the Book of the Brothers that recounted half a page dedicated to his illustrious career as a kingsguard, ending with him being called Kingslayer which, now that he thought about it, was apt, since he'd outlived all kings he pledged to serve.

And also why he had to turn away from Cersei. As much as it pains him, he wouldn't want to be branded a Queenslayer too should it come down to it.

She'd let the realm bleed so long as she got what she wanted.

Burn them all.

As if fire was the answer to everything even after seeing what the bigger threat was. As much as he still loved Cersei, he didn't want to be witness to her self-destruction. He did not want to hold any part to her demise. He tried everything, tried every reason, and tactic, yet she was too consumed with grief and ambition.

I'm grieving too.

Yet here he was, right back where he started. Pledging to yet another cause, even after so many broken vows.

The clinking of armor and heavy footsteps broke his reverie and he was faced with the Hound. Another disgraced knight such as himself, and like him, pledged to the same person.

"Hound."

"Kingslayer."

Jaime pressed a finger to his lips. "Shhh. They must not be disturbed."

Sandor Clegane's expression turned even grimmer than when he walked in, knowing exactly what Jaime meant.

Jaime almost chuckled but bid Sandor to step back a little more in the hallway to talk quietly. "Brings back memories?"

Sandor just grumbled, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, obviously not pleased.

Oh.

Jaime realized then and almost threw his head back in laughter knowing exactly what Sandor felt.

"Do you remember the vows?"

"What fucking vows?"

Jaime straightened and puffed his chest mockingly. "The true knight's vows."

The Hound snorted and grinned crookedly. "Fuck the vows. There are no true knights."

Jaime chuckled and nodded. "True. But there are vows anyway. What was the first one?" He pretended to think. "Oh, I remember now. "In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave."

He examined Sandor then. "You were brave until you saw the fire."

"Were you fucking brave when you let the Brienne of fucking Tarth, fuck your ass?" He shot back.

Jaime just shrugged. "Well we're brave enough to be here, choosing guard. Now what's the next one... "In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just."

At that both of them burst out laughing.

But then suddenly, Jaime swallowed before saying the next vow. "In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the young and innocent."

Sandor pursed his lips then. But whatever for? Jaime recalled. He knew that among the Kingsguard, he was the only one who treated Sansa with kindness. And he protected Arya as well as he could too.

"Lastly, in the name of the Maid, I charge you to protect all women," he ended bitterly when he found out that Sansa Stark, the king's own betrothed, was being ordered stripped and beaten by the Kingsguards, by order of his son the king. He would never have allowed it if he was there.

Would he?

Both of them looked at the door they were both guarding tonight.

It belonged to Catelyn Stark's daughter - the redhaired one, Sansa Stark.

The Queen in the North in all but the name, reduced to being merely the Lady of Winterfell, he thought with indignation.

No matter what they said, Sansa Stark was his chosen queen.

If he was being completely honest, Sansa Stark would probably be the only person he would accept to call, the queen the whole fucking Westeros lost out on but it was just as well because the people don't deserve her as their queen.

While his...sister was blowing septs and the dragon queen was burning men and crops, while the fool of a King in the North was trying to gain both queen's favor, the Lady regent of the North that he left was busy preparing her people to survive the winter and keep the men loyal and in high morale.

Quite a difficult task for any person, but as he's come to observe since he rode to Winterfell, Sansa Stark has been managing quite well.

In fact, incredibly well that not a day comes to pass that a number of the Northern as well as Vale lords try to seek her favor and convince her to take the crown and usurp her dolt of a brother. And as expected, after Jaime helped her uncle, Edmure Tully, round up what was left of the Riverlands, they've pledged to her. Something the dragon queen did not take to well but had to tolerate as she'd tolerated the Vale who also granted Sansa regency until the Lord Paramount of the East, her cousin, Robin Aryn comes of age.

It took a joint effort of Tyrion and Varys to convince the queen not to get in the way since both kingdoms were tied by Tully blood to Sansa Stark, saying that it wouldn't do to insult her since the North already clearly preferred her over the bastard they crowned. Saying that by right of blood alone, Sansa practically held three kingdoms. Four if you counted what's left of the Reach since, while Samwell Tarly the now heir to the Reach, did not take too kindly of the dragon queen burning his brother. If the cards were really rolling, Jaime would bet the Iron born turncloak, Theon Greyjoy, would pledge their fleet to her as well. So no, it wouldn't do her any favors, only bring her more ashes and corpses, if she insults Sansa Stark. Better to gamble on Sansa Stark's unwavering loyalty to her brother to keep the peace. Better to let the people follow her for so long as Sansa Stark refuses the crown, choosing instead to continue following the fucking dolt the North has crowned instead of her in the first place. Jaime's heard all the reports of what happened when they've reclaimed Winterfell.

She could be queen.

She should've been crowned queen in the north from the beginning since they retook Winterfell.

But they couldn't get past the accusation of her being a suspected Kingslayer, and being married to two of her family's traitors. How hypocritical. Jaime thought as the insults felt like ashes in his mouth and filled his chest with fury and sympathy for the young woman he now swore to protect - for life he added.

Sansa Stark should've been crowned as the queen of the fucking North.

But she wasn't.

And the reason she wasn't, was inside her chambers with her.

Jon Snow.

The King in the North no more.

The second king who knelt.

Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.

He didn't understand at all why Sansa refused the crown before. It  made the most sense for her to take it as it was clear in the Dragonpit meeting that even Daenerys Targaryen, who already affirmed a truce until the threat in the North was eliminated, did not expect Jon Snow to publicly announce his fealty to her. Maybe even not demanding anymore that he bend the knee after seeing the threat. Daenerys Targaryen was going to North anyway to maybe avenge her fallen dragon (In this, Cersei was right to suspect), to act the benevolent savior, or maybe it was more of her acting on her longing looks towards the northern fool. No, Jon Snow did not need to bend the knee.

From that betrayal alone and add the memory of Robb Stark's demise, Sansa had every right to be the queen. She's the one whose doing all the work for many moons already and has the head and heart for it. Her people not only respect her, they loved her.

But, to his vexation, Sansa loved Jon Snow more.

Jon Snow.

The only source of pain Jaime could not shield his chosen Queen from.

It only took one shared look between them when Jon arrived with the Dragon Queen's retinue.

One look was enough for him to understand where the main fault of both the Lady of Winterfell and the Lord of Winterfell stemmed.

It was a look he and Cersei shared not that long ago. The only difference was, these two never acted on those feelings.

Duty over love as was insufferably the Stark way.  

"Has the cunt been there for long?" Sandor's gruff voice spat out.

Jaime smirked at him. "Not that long. You just missed him by oh say, a yard's walk?"

"I trust you made it hard for that shite to enter."

"I only let him pass because she ordered me too."

Just then, the blasted white beast crept over and stood sigil in front of the door as well, dropping its large head on its paws while its red eyes were watching them carefully.

Sandor gave a frustrated snort before kicking himself away from the wall. "S'too fucking crowded. Call me if you can't kill him."

Ghost, he recalled he was called. Ghost growled quietly while looking at Sandor who just smirked. "You're not fooling me, wolf. We all know who you're actually loyal too. I'm not a threat to her."

Ghost merely dropped his head back on its paws making Jaime chuckle, not even bothering to watch Sandor walk away, knowing he'll be back later.

Jaime walked back to the door and stood beside Ghost who was, by now, accustomed to him.

Carefully, he removed his glove, using his teeth to find purchase, before scratching behind the wolf's ears. "I'm so glad a direwolf likes me. I remember being on the other end of that far too vividly. Oh yes, your brother was quite ferocious. Almost shit myself to be honest."

The wolf didn't make a sound or move but Jaime knew that it tolerated him well enough. "You belong to her now, don't you?"

Ghost looked up at him then and Jaime smirked. "We all belong to her now." He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

Ghost blinked then closed his eyes.

"Traitor. You were supposed to be first watch!"

The wolf was snoring already and Jaime shook his head, straightening as he stood to take his position by the door again.

He couldn't hear what they were saying...or doing clearly. The two of them were more cautious than that and they knew he was here on guard.

But he had an idea on what it was about.

Jon would ride for war in the morning.

But his other war would end tonight.

After Jon talked with Bran, Bran called for his sisters while Jon left in a snow storm of emotions to wherever he went to brood.

Afterwards, when he was walking Sansa to her chambers, he saw her control slipping more and more, her eyes, blinking more than usual while her hands wrenched against each other, and she was unusually quiet.

That's why instead of closing the door behind her, he went inside and closed the door after him and gave her a look.

"What is it?"

Sansa sat down then and held her hands in her lap and said nothing but the way she held herself so tightly, fighting tears alarmed him.

She was starting to feel better!

Jaime knelt in front of her then and used the tip of his finger to raise her chin up to him and was startled from the way her eyes looked even more achingly haunting with tears.

"What is it? Sansa, you can tell me. I swear I won't say a word," he promised.

Sansa swallowed and debated before finally leaning her head against his chest. Jaime didn't move closer as he would've wanted, but he needed Sansa to trust him. So he settled for placing his hand on the back of her head and kept still, waiting, thinking what this could possibly be about this time.

"J-Jaime," she muttered.

"Yes, Sansa?"

"He's not - he's not," she cried some more and trembled.

He started stroking her hair then. "Take your time."

He felt Sansa grip his jerkin then but kept her face down. "Jon is not my brother."

She finally said.

It took some time before the full implication and effect of the words hit him.

The fucking bastard, was going to get everything he wanted. Was his initial thought and brought a bad taste in his mouth. And then he realized that Sansa was still crying. Why?

Shouldn't she feel relieved?

Jaime was.

He was happy that Sansa wasn't...ill in thought and feelings. The more that he thought about it, the more he was happy for her sake.

Not that he immediately thought this meant Sansa and the dolt could now be.

It was more because now she wouldn't torture herself with feeling so dirty and wrong with her feelings.

"Darling girl, why the tears? Seems I'm the only one with the affliction after all," he tried.

Sansa looked up at him then. "I am relieved but this is more than that. This is more than us..."

And then she told him everything.

And just so, his initial thought was still there. Bastard was going to get everything.

And sadly he thought, now where would this leave me?

But before he could ask, a knock at the door interrupted them. And just so, with Sansa's permission, Jaime stood guard outside, as Jon Snow and Sansa Stark were going to talk in his lady's chambers.

He could hear muffled voices, sometimes raised, sometimes, even legible from where he was standing.

"You don't understand!"

"What does

----mean?"

"Mean for what?"

"----them?"

"us...?"

Jaime was then reminded of memories he didn't particularly like to dwell on. One of him guarding the Queen's chambers as well while the King took his pleasure... at the cost of the queen's pain.

Pain he couldn't protect her from.

Queen Rhaella Targaryen would always be his one greatest failure as a knight.

A guilt he carried that was the only reason he was giving her daughter, Daenerys Targaryen some benefit of a doubt. But he's killed a Mad Targaryen before, a failure to his vows as they called him Kingslayer but it was an act he would never regret.

And now his chosen queen was with the king she chose - a king who repeatedly hurt her, not physically, but there were other things that could cut sharper than swords. He pressed closer then, his sword at the ready.

He doesn't care what this would cost him.

Sansa Stark was his last chance for honor, and was the only bright and sensible thing in the fucked up world. He tried his best to shield her from these feelings lest they ruin her as they ruined him and Cersei by proving as a friend, or at the least, a distraction.

The world needed someone like Sansa Stark to bring order to chaos. He would do all to keep her alive.

And just like all of her people, he'd come to love his queen too, though he doesn't know how to fully label that love. Admiration? Paternal? Platonic?

More?

Sansa Stark was ridiculously easy to admire. The rest follows just as easily. Her smiles were few but they were victories. And he so delighted to drive Jon Snow mad with jealousy while he brought his affections to the young Lady of Winterfell in full view of the Dolt in the North.

Rejoicing in making her laugh even at his expense, just so it could distract her from her own carefully concealed jealousy of the Dragon Queen's presence.

So he'd listen. He'd wait. At the sign of any line crossing, he'd run his sword through the King who Knelt.

He hated not knowing what was going on. Sansa was vulnerable.

Jon was vulnerable.

Was this really the best time for this?

He looked down at the wolf who was sleeping soundly. This wolf was more sensitive to his mistress. At least he'll be able to tell...

Still he pressed his ear against the door, closed his eyes, and strained to listen.

"What...going to do -Jon?"

"What d... you think....do?"

"...Sansa?"

...

"Please?"

"Now? Now you're asking me now?"

"Yes."

A frustrated breath.

"I am lost," some rustling is heard, a weight dropped against the floor.

Sobbing.

Another rustle of garments - her heavy skirts probably, and the clink of chains.

"No one has to know."

A pained cry and a sucked in breath.

"But what about-

Jaime shut his eyes tight and concentrated now.

"But what? But nothing Jon--

"Sansa--you know what."

A sigh.

"It's not wise." Jaime could just imagine her shaking her head sadly but firmly.

"Jon, it's not wise," she said more firmly. He heard her walking heavily away a few paces.

"I'm tired of everything!" Jon shouted in frustration.

"Everything?"

...

"Yes."

"You have to be more specific."

"The games...fighting....but most of all, I'm tired of pretending."

...

Silence. Jaime couldn't hear anything. No movement, no voices. He assume they were staring at each other at this point until he heard Sansa's voice.

"Pretending? Pretending to be what? Your queen's lover?"

A growl and a gasp was heard and stomping approach that Jaime held the pommel, his elbow ready to shove the door open.

"Pretending I don't have feelings for you."

A muffled sound almost strangled almost made Jaime kick the door down.

No men can just take from her what they will. Jaime gritted his teeth.

But a shove and a slap was what he heard then that made him pause.

Followed by an apology.

"I'm sorry I -

"Don't be sorry, Sansa. I deserved that."

More silence.

"Jon, we can't..."

"What do you mean we can't? The only good this revelation revealed is this!"

A sigh.

"I meant now...not yet. Now is not the right time."

"But this could secure -

"Oh so it's back to duty then Jon? Use duty as an excuse again? Another political marriage, Jon?"

"I didn't mean--I didn't think--

"No, you didn't think."

Another tired sigh. "You think I haven't thought of that possibility? Jon, I want it more that you can know, it's true. I do. I do want it. Not... because of duty. But there's no time. You leave tomorrow. You battle tomorrow. Bringing this out now would only cause more unrest among the unified armies we fought so hard to unite."

"And Jon?"

"Sansa?"

"...think of your queen."

...

A groan. "You're right. You're always right."

"Thank you."

Laughter.

Jaime relaxed a little then. Sansa was right. If they reveal it now at the eve of battle, it would cause an outrage over the northmen, and another bigger one from the Targaryen side now that there was another claimant to the throne.

"I love you. It's always been you. Everything I did, it was for you. I thought you should know that."

A sigh. "I do know that Jon. At least, I do now."

"Do you love me?"

"Oh Jon, if you have to ask..."

A muffled moan and Jaime knew their mouths have met again.

Jaime wanted to sigh, feeling a bit bittersweet. He hated this but he also wanted for Sansa to get everything she wanted. And if she wanted this stupid bastard, he won't stand in her way.

Unless he absolutely needed to that is, he smiled wryly.

We should all take what happiness is thrown our way in this miserable world.

"I love you Jon."

"Ah that feels so nice to hear."

"Jon?"

"Yes, my love?"

"We still can't...at least not now."

A drawn out sigh. "Then I just have to come back."

"Why do you say it that way as if you've planned on not coming back?"

"I thought...forget it."

"What? Jon?"

"Don't get me wrong. I would do my damnedest to make sure you are all safe. I'll gladly give my life if need be but not before making sure you are out of harm's way."

"You mean to die in the battle field and abandon me again in your ridiculous notion of protecting me. I told you to stop trying!"

"That was before I thought I had nothing waiting for me back here!"

A sucked in breath.

"You are going to be the best ruler Winterfell has ever had. And you have enough support to keep it. Men have been pledging left and right to you. You will not lack of people wanting to protect you - besides - " he paused.

"Besides what?"

"Nothing."

"Besides what, Jon?"

"You have your sworn shield."

"You mean, oh, Jon. You mean Ser Jaime?" she said in a lower voice probably remembering that he was out there.

Jaime stiffened then both wanting and not wanting to hear further.

"He loves you."

"Wha-

"Sansa, come on. That man is in love with you. So is the Hound. And Lord Tyrion is fond of you. I don't blame them. Who wouldn't love you?"

"Jon this is-

"Ridiculous? Sansa. Even if I am gone, you will not lack love."

"But its your love despite giving me the most agony, what I want."

"Sansa--"

"I hate you because I can't hate you. I loathe you because with you there's always nothing to forgive even though I'm smarter than - than this. Even though I know better. But you can't choose who you love, can you? And the gods have cursed me to love you, you stupid fool."

"You...tear...me...apart... it's true," she whispered that Jaime barely heard it. "But your love is the only thing that can make me whole."

"You - you shouldn't love me that much. I don't deserve -

"No, you don't deserve me. You never listen to me. You never consult me. You do foolish things you claim out of love for me. But I love you anyway - Jon I--

She stopped and Jaime knew she was in Jon's arms.

"I'm so so sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you but I'll say it again, everything I've done - I was always thinking about you. And I won't be sorry for that.  I won't be sorry for putting your safety first. I don't care if you don't forgive me. Or even hate me."

Sansa scoffed. "You're not listening again. I told you...there's nothing to forgive."

"Sansa."

"Jon."

"I will come back to you. I swear it. And I will make this right. And I' won't go back to pretending anymore. I'd take the damn chair if it comes to that. I will come back to you."

"Don't promise."

"I have to."

"Jon."

"Sansa."

"Fine."

"But should I fall, which won't happen, Sansa, I won't be the only man who can put you back together. You don't even need a man to do that. You are capable of doing that yourself. And Sansa?"

"Yes Jon?"

"Lots of things tear me apart. But only you make everything worth it. Only you."

"Jon...Just...just do your best to come back."

"I will. And after this war is over...?" he trailed in question.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, Jon."

...

"What do we do now?"

"What do you want to do?

"What was it that you told me your wildling lover used to say to you? We can all die tomorrow."

"But first we'll live."

"Then let's live."

...

"Sans - are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

At this point, Jaime stepped away from the door, his mouth a straight line as he heard the new sounds that were coming from inside.

Jaime sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his mind having a war of its own.

"Well bugger you, they're going to fuck, aren't they?"

Jaime smirked at the Hound and raised a brow.

"Yes, yes, I think they will."

The Hound looked disgusted. "She let him off too easy."

Jaime just sighed and shrugged before crossing his arms against his chest. "It's what she wants."

The Hound leant against the wall opposite him and grumbled. "Aye, that's what the little bird wants."

"He said he doesn't deserve her."

"Har! No one deserves her," Sandor scoffed.

"He also said you were in love with her."

Sandor grinned wickedly at him. "I bet the fucker told her Jaime fucking Lannister is in love with her too."

Jaime chuckled. "He did."

"Do you?"

Jaime shrugged. "Maybe?" Jaime was honestly not sure. There was something there, he can acknowledge potential, because there really was. But he didn't ride for Winterfell to fall in love and live happily ever after.

"Well, at  least there's one more cunt to wish the bastard shit himself tomorrow."

Jaime's shoulders shook as he laughed quietly. "Perhaps."

Ghost stirred and eyed them both.

Jaime crouched down and petted his head."Don't worry boy, I don't believe your master will die. Only your mistress is allowed to kill him."

The Hound cackled while Ghost shut his eyes again after opening its mouth to yawn and lick at his teeth.

Jaime had a vow to uphold, an honor to restore. Guarding Sansa and ensuring her happiness would be enough to make him die a happy man. He's seen too much of this world than nurse another heart ache. There were many other kinds of love that he could give her. After all, he was deprived of other kinds of love as well, like being a father or being a woman's friend, a subject who loves his liege.

But for now, a loving Queensguard would do.

So he stood up straight, got back to position, and guarded a Queen that was finally worth guarding.

He could still remember finding her after her sister, Arya pointed out that she didn't need a shield, pushing him towards her sister in the Godswood, where he knelt in front of her and made another vow.

"Lady Sansa, allow me to fulfill my vow to your mother and allow me to make a new vow to you too. I will shield your back, and keep your counsel, and give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the old gods and the new."

She could've had him executed on site - her sister was watching, or banished. But Sansa Stark, who kept counsel with the right people, trusted Brienne at her word and accepted him without question and without falter.

"And I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth, and meat and mead at my table. I pledge to ask no service of you that may bring you dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new. Arise, Ser Jaime."

#ladymdfic #jonsafic #actuallyjonsa #post-season7 #jon snow x sansa stark #jaime lannister in the middle #fanfiction

[ladywolfmd]

“The things we do for love”

A one shot for some Jonsa angst with Jaime in the middle.

Summary: The Dragon Queen’s party brought by Jon Snow finally arrived in Winterfell and as expected, Daenerys and Jon had been met with suspicion. It was only through Sansa that they have managed an accord, at least for a night. Feeling the weight of his decision with its consequences and the apparent drift in their relationship, Jon tried to seek out Sansa in private to thank her for her loyalty but most of all explain and apologize but he found that she wasn’t alone in her chambers. Her new sworn shield, newly defected Jaime Lannister was with her and this was where he found himself privy to a conversation he wasn’t meant to hear.

It’s also on AO3. 

“You do too much.”

A scoff. “You should know by now, what I do or don’t do would ever be-” A pause and a tired sigh.

Jon’s knuckle remained raised before her door but voices from inside stopped him.

He recognized the voices.

Her voice would be all that he would recognize no matter where or when. It was the voice that kept him alive ever since he was brought back.

It was the only voice that brought about warmth in him when all he’s felt since he left Winterfell was cold and colder still.

“You are to me.”

“You’re good at it you know.”

“You are. You are.”

Now because of his decisions, the voice he had come to rely on when he felt adrift and unworthy was gone. Gone. To him and only him.

When she spoke to him at all, all he feels is cold and pain. His and hers. He knew what he did. He knew that she was loyal but he also knew she’d feel betrayed despite of it. And as expected, she chose loyalty. Over and over. She was the only one here who stood by his decisions. She was the one who placated the lords and ladies. She did all that was expected of her and more but while he had her loyalty, he lost everything else with her. Everything that mattered more.  

He meant to speak with his sister in private and beg for peace or at least a chance for it - a chance for even the slightest semblance of what they had before he made the mistake of going South.

“Then why do you even bother?”

He was jerked back to the moment at the other voice that he also recognized, sickeningly velvety voice that did not hide the frustration…nor the concern lacing it. A voice that never failed to make him feel guilt, shame, and rage all boiled into one. And hearing him talk so familiarly almost sent him to the edge of his control.

He wanted nothing more than to burst in and draw his sword at him but he knew he’d lost that right the moment he gave her home away. She’d asked no questions. No explanations. Just continued to support his decision. So who was he to demand answers from her too?

Who was he to ask why she chose to let this man into her tightly held trust?

No, he can’t threaten a shield and sword she’s chosen to arm herself with. Just another layer of protection she chose after her courtesies and he knew it meant a great deal for her to allow that when she made it clear to him that no one can protect her and that he himself should stop trying.

And he did promise her. He promised her he would stop protecting her if she stopped undermining him. And she hasn’t. Not once. Not like he made the effort to give her a chance to anyway, he thought with guilt. He made all his decisions himself and he has to live with it. And now she expects him to uphold his end of the promise.

He can’t, of course, but he’ll have to give her this. He owed her this much. No. He owed her even more that he didn’t think he’d ever pay her back what she deserved even if he died for it. He knows he should leave and afford them privacy but he’s a damn weak fool. And he still thinks to stay and intervene if need be, no matter the consequence of another foolish decision. If he hurts her, he’ll end him. This is what he uses to rationalize his staying when in fact he’s here because he wants to know. Know how deep she let him in.

He was all but ready to receive her rage and her sharp words but he guessed that this was another way she could give him the hurt he surely deserved for betraying her in his bid to protect her.

So he stayed.

He listened.

Through the crack of the door to her bedroom, he could see her standing in front of her window, her back to her sworn shield who was only a hair’s breath behind her, arms crossed in front of his chest while his eyes never left his lady.

She was standing, back as straight as ever, her flawless face devoid of emotion as she looked out into the snow storm billowing outside, the dull flicker of the fire from the hearth casting a dull light on her profile, leaving half of her in the shadows. Still she did not answer.

Her knight dropped his arms at his side and let out a breath of frustration, his face contorting into a scowl. “Sansa, why do you even bother?” he repeated. Jon’s blood bubbled at how her name rolled so easily from his tongue. Such insolence!

He saw her stiffen, her hands clasping against each other in front of her lap yet she did not turn, not until after a few more breaths when finally her facade started softening slightly, at the give her tired sigh did. “It’s not a matter of why I bother, Jaime,” she said so softly that Jon could barely hear but he heard. Her heard her loud and clear. He heard his name leave so softly from her lips and that felt more of a stab to his heart than any one of the daggers he took for the Watch.

She braced her hands on the window sill and hunched slightly, her eyes closing tightly. “I am only doing my duty.”

“Duty? Fuck, duty!” Ser Jaime raged as he walked closer to her. “You are still the Lady of Winterfell. You were here all those time preparing for your people when grains were being burnt, men were being killed. And it is by you that your people are even still following him. If you have any sense at all, you’d take the crown your people have been offering you time and time again!”

She whirled around and glared at him then, her face glorious in her fury. “I will not betray my brother. I will not. Nor will I ever.”

Jon was taken aback and despite the sudden wave of affection that washed over him at her words, it was easily overshadowed by his guilt and shame. He didn’t deserve this kind of devotion. He didn’t deserve anything but for this rage to be directed onto him but they weren’t. They were for him. And that cut deeper than anything else.

Even the Kingslayer looked surprised while his lady stared him down, daring him to contest her as her mouth set into a firm line, her blue eyes blazing, despite her chest heaving heavily. But in a moment, the Kingslayer’s eyes widened in recognition before turning soft and understanding. Understand what? What could he possibly understand? What could he possibly recognize? How could he possibly hold a look that knows?

Jon continued to watch. Gently,  Jaime raised his good hand and approached as one would approach a wary animal, his eyes not breaking contact with hers, the flames making their blue and green eyes almost matching in their lightness, until slowly, his hand reached her cheek and held so softly and tentatively- Jon knew he did.

And as if all the fight was drained from her, Sansa closed her eyes and allowed the touch she never allowed anyone but from himself before with one deep and pained breath and whimper.

She stood there still but not stiff yet not quite soft either, seemingly only held up with Ser Jaime’s hand on her cheek. It was only when he dared stroke his thumb over her cheek that she opened her eyes and gave a tiny nod, that was the only sign he needed to draw her to him. Jon almost sucked in a breath from the shock of her action, finding it harder and harder to breath at what was unfolding before him.

How could he have known what to do? How could he have with just one touch unhinge her so when not even Jon himself could break into her thick walls without trying with his best effort yet here was the Kingslayer, an oathbreaker many times over, who helped the destruction of their family, who, with just one touch got her to come to him this easily?  

It wasn’t even much of an embrace, not like the ones he shared with her, yet it might as well had been. It was only her head on his chest and his hand cupping the back of her head but the sight of it killed Jon all the same. Their embraces were more but this barely there touch felt too intimate for simple comfort. There were volumes of unspoken things between Sansa and Jaime. Things that only came to be if Sansa allowed it so with her trust and the knowledge of his understanding that felt to Jon she needed.

He knew Sansa hated it when other people, men or women touched her. Yet here she was, accepting without much protest, if any at all. And even more shocking was how much he saw that Jaime cared.

His eyes widened as he saw Jaime’s jaw was clenched as if he was trying to reign in his anger or frustration or maybe both, while his eyes looked at her with tenderness and sympathy and was that pain as well? Why? Why did he? If he truly knew Sansa, he wouldn’t dare look at her with something close to pity.

When Jon looked at Sansa, he only saw strength. Pity had no place beside her but maybe that was his first mistake.

“Kill the boy, Jon Snow…Kill the boy and let the man be born.”

He thought that was what she was trying hard to do but he knew better that you don’t get to kill the boy so easily. Deep inside, he was still that boy - still very much a part of him. It was too much to think that the little girl with songs and stories in her eyes had truly died in Sansa too. Because he could see it all clearly now.

She may be formidable and a well equipped ruler, but it was the compassion, her ability to love greatly as her mother did for he knew even if he did not experience it that Lady Catelyn loved fiercely, and the loyalty and honor as their father had that kept her from being a tyrant. She did not believe in heroes anymore, but it did not apply in her wanting to be as far from the monsters she suffered from. Monsters hardened her heart but had not blackened it.

And now people were starting to see that. It was true, what the Kingslayer said. If she wanted the crown to the North, she’d only have to say yes because he knew it was regularly offered to her. She didn’t even need to ask. He knew. He was aware all this time but he couldn’t give it to her, not without causing unrest with his alliance with Dany. Dany, he felt guilty again. It wasn’t right. Wasn’t right to call her that. Yet he did all the same. He made his choice. When Sansa looked at him, he could hear her unspoken reminder. You made your choice. And he would honor it. And he knew, guiltily again, that Sansa would not turn against him. He had doubts before, he admits it. But if Sansa wanted to betray him and she had cause to do so, she would’ve done it already. He didn’t deserve her loyalty, wouldn’t even begrudge her if she turned on him, but he needed it.

For the sake of the realm.

For her sake.

Jaime removed his hand from the back of her head and tilted her chin up with his finger, making Jon’s insides twist agonizingly yet he stood rooted to his spot as he watched on as Jaime coaxed Sansa into meeting his eyes.

“Sansa,” he said in a voice that was painfully too tender and that was all he needed to say for Sansa to lift her eyes to him and what Jon saw shattered him. Even from far away, he knew. From the way her body slouched, her brow furrowed, her lips trembled, her eyes were likely filled with sadness and exhaustion.

He saw Jaime look gutted as well but was shocked once more when Jaime lifted a corner of his mouth into a kind but pained almost wry smile. “I know.”

And those two words were enough for Sansa to crumble.

Slowly, it happened, a few silent drops of tears forming then flowing for a few breaths until one choked sob escaped and she was clinging to Jaime in an instant, her hands fisting against his doublet, while her head was bowed against his chest.

Jaime’s eyes were tight and his face stoic as he held her, his right arm wrapped around her trembling back, while his left hand stroked her hair gently. “I know, Lady Stark, I know,” he crooned and though he addressed her formally, the title almost felt an endearment and Jon felt like a drowning man gasping for breath, struggling with his footing as the feeling of being replaced started dawning on him, suffocating him.

This should’ve been you.

This should’ve been you protecting her from tears.

This should’ve been you.

“I can’t betray him,” she said through gritted teeth in between sobs.

Jaime said nothing, only held her and after a moment she started speaking again, her voice hoarse from crying and also exhaustion.

“They all thought I’d betray him. Even Arya. And I’m sure he thought so too. And even if the thought occurred to me, I never, not once, believed I’d actually do it,” she continued, her voice sounding firmer and firmer.

She let out a deep breath then, her knees giving out but Jaime caught her instantly, allowing her to lean on him as they half-knelt on the floor. She loosened her hold and looked down defeated. “I can’t betray him…not even if I wanted to. W-which I don’t. I never wanted that. I never did. Not once. Not ever.”

He saw Jaime grit his teeth and stiffen before he forced himself to relax and stroke Sansa’s hair. “The things we do for love,” he whispered and Jon saw it again, pain and regret on Jaime’s eyes.

Sansa closed her eyes then and gave the most resigned nod he never expected to see. “Aye.”

And Jon almost felt his own knees go out as well as the implication of what he just heard crashed into him.

Surely he was mistaken?

Surely she meant something else?

She couldn’t possibly–

He stopped thinking then when he saw Jaime tilt her face once more and he leant down. “Pain doesn’t suit you, Lady Stark. I’m doing a bad job at being your sword and shield when you’re in pain just the same.”

That brought a tiny lift to one corner of Sansa’s mouth.

“Ah. There it is. Well, I’m not completely useless after all,” Jaime smiled more genuinely even if his eyes still held some tightness in them.

Both corners turned up now. “You’re far from useless, Ser Jaime.”

Jaime sighed then and brought out a handkerchief to wipe her tears. “Your pain is a special kind of pain that I know terribly more than well enough,” he said bitterly causing Sansa to regard him closely but she averted her eyes as she let him wipe her cheek.

“Does it get…better?” she asked so softly Jon almost didn’t hear.

Jaime sighed. “It gets worse, I’m sorry.”

Sansa sighed as well. “I suppose I already knew that.”

Sansa didn’t see Jaime looking like a burning man then, making him pause from his action. But before Sansa looked up at him, he schooled his features into his usual smirk. “I’m doing a bad job again.”

Sansa blinked then a laugh escaped from her. It was just the one and she clamped her mouth right away and Jon was struck dumb from the novelty of it. When was the last time he heard her laugh? And then he soured again that it was Jaime Lannister who made her laugh and him the cause of her tears, he knew that now.

“Ah. Now you are only trying to make me feel better. I am truly an ass at this, Lady Stark,” Jaime grinned.

Sansa smiled at him more genuinely that Jon felt torn from feeling hatred at the Lannister and tenderness that she could still smile truly.

Jaime looked at her more seriously then, his eyes resigned as he cupped her face, drawing a gasp from her.

“I know your pain, Sansa. And I have sworn to protect you from everything that may harm you and that includes the war in your heart and mind. I do not presume to be a substitute or a replacement. But I am at your disposal, my lady. Whatever you ask of me, I’ll do it. Whatever it is. May it be… of small comfort or not. I am yours to command. Whatever it is you need. May it be wrong or not. Whatever it is you need to ease some of your pain, I will try. No, I will obey.”

Jon held his breath and looked sharply at Sansa then and saw her eyes wide, her mouth hung, and her posture tense as she took in Jaime’s words.

“I know what can make you happy, but you know I can’t give you that so ask something else and I’ll do my best to give it to you Sansa,” he vowed.

Sansa looked up sharply at him and met his eyes. “I am happy. I am. My two brothers are alive. Arya is alive. I’m in Winterfell. I’m still alive. I’m home,” she insisted but it felt more like her trying to convince herself. “It should be enough. It is enough. More than I could ever hope for.”

Jaime dropped his hand and smiled proudly at her. “And this is why you are better than the rest of us,” he breathed. “Lady Stark.”

Sansa smiled grimly at him.

“Still, just ask,” he repeated.

Sansa looked down, shut her eyes, then nodded. “Thank you…Jaime.” She lifted her eyes then, looking at Jaime so softly Jon felt the world fall on him, crushing him and there was no escape.

Jaime stood up then and offered his hand to her.

Sansa took it and allowed him to help her up, their eyes never breaking from each other’s gaze.

When Sansa moved to pull her hand away, Jaime grasped it back, making her look from their hands to his face in silent question.

Jaime smiled at her then and bent down to kiss her knuckles, and Jon saw the way Sansa’s cheeks colored.

This was his cue to leave when he saw Jaime release her with a bow of his head and started turning towards the door.

He was ready to run when the next thing he heard rooted him on the spot once more.

“Jaime.”

He saw Jaime look at her from his shoulder and he also saw Sansa never looking as vulnerable as she did now, stripped of her shields and walls as she regarded her sworn shield who look just as taken back as he did.

“What-what is it?”

Sansa clasped her hands in front of her and looked down. “C-can you…will you please…stay?”

Jon barely held back his choke while he watched Jaime look at her for signs of wanting to take back her request when suddenly Sansa looked up and all they could see was resolve in her eyes. “Please. Stay,” she whispered.

Jon darted to see Jaime’s face willing him to refuse but Jaime swallowed, his good hand twitching at his side and nodded. “As my lady commands.”

And Jon had to move to an alcove when he saw Jamie walk towards the door.

And with one final look, closed it.

Jon heard the bolt after and he wanted to both run away and tear down the door with his bare hands if need be.

This cannot be happening.

There was no way the Sansa he knew would do this.

She wouldn’t.

She wouldn’t.

At least not with the Kingslayer.

Not with an Oathbreaker.

But you’re an oathbreaker too and when you put an arrow through Mance Rayder’s heart, didn’t that make you a kingslayer too?

Jon pulled at his hair as he stared at her door.

You made your decision.

She made hers.

You drove her to him.

After several deep breaths, he leant his forehead against the door and accepted the sound of garment dropping and the bed dipping from weights. Allowed what was happening on the other side of the door fill him.

With one final look, he placed his palm on the door, resigned that this was another consequence of his decision, but not without whispering what he never admitted to anyone living.

“It was all for you.”

Then he left.

To his chambers he went.

Drinking and crying himself to numbness.

The weight of his decision weighing heavily and the consequences catching up yet he couldn’t do anything but honor them and live with them.

He didn’t know that behind her door, Sansa just asked Jaime to hold her.

Not as a lover would.

But someone who simply cared for her and nothing more.

#fic #myfic #jonsa #lots of angst #actuallyjonsa #jaime in the middle #jon snow x sansa stark #jonsafic #fanfic #ladymdfic

[ladywolfmd]

I only rescue maidens.

So this is a smutty alternate version of my other story “The things we do for love.” Since people sent me messages that Sansa should’ve totally done Jaime Lannister and make Jon watch. 

Also on AO3.  If you want to read the first version, the angsty one, here.

Jon couldn't look away, cursing himself for not leaving the moment he saw that Sansa wasn't alone in her chambers.

He should've sought her out at once at the first chance, but no, he had to wait.

And this was how the gods saw fit to punish him with.

"Lady Sansa," Jaime said in a voice that was painfully too tender and that was all he needed to say for Sansa to lift her eyes to him and what Jon saw shattered him. Even from far away, he knew. From the way her body slouched, her brow furrowed, her lips trembled, her eyes were likely filled with sadness and exhaustion.

He saw Jaime look gutted as well but was shocked once more when Jaime lifted a corner of his mouth into a kind but pained almost wry smile. "I know."

And those two words were enough for Sansa to crumble.

Slowly, it happened, a few silent drops of tears forming then flowing for a few breaths until one choked sob escaped and she was clinging to Jaime in an instant, her hands fisting against his doublet, while her head was bowed against his chest.

Jaime's eyes were tight and his face stoic as he held her, his right arm wrapped around her trembling back, while his left hand stroked her hair gently. "I know, Lady Stark, I know," he crooned and though he addressed her formally, the title almost felt an endearment and Jon felt like a drowning man gasping for breath, struggling with his footing as the feeling of being replaced started dawning on him, suffocating him.

This should've been you.

This should've been you protecting her from tears.

This should've been you.

"I can't betray him," she said through gritted teeth in between sobs.

Jaime said nothing, only held her and after a moment she started speaking again, her voice hoarse from crying and also exhaustion.

"They all thought I'd betray him. Even Arya. And I'm sure he thought so too. And even if the thought occurred to me, I never, not once, believed I'd actually do it," she continued, her voice sounding firmer and firmer.

She let out a deep breath then, her knees giving out but Jaime caught her instantly, allowing her to lean on him as they half-knelt on the floor. She loosened her hold and looked down defeated. "I can't betray him...not even if I wanted to. W-which I don't. I never wanted that. I never did. Not once. Not ever."

He saw Jaime grit his teeth and stiffen before he forced himself to relax and stroke Sansa's hair. "The things we do for love," he whispered and Jon saw it again, pain and regret on Jaime's eyes.

Sansa closed her eyes then and gave the most resigned nod he never expected to see. "Aye."

And Jon almost felt his own knees go out as well as the implication of what he just heard crashed into him.

Surely he was mistaken?

Surely she meant something else?

She couldn't possibly--

He stopped thinking then when he saw Jaime tilt her face once more and he leant down. "Pain doesn't suit you, Lady Stark. I'm doing a bad job at being your sword and shield when you're in pain just the same."

That brought a tiny lift to one corner of Sansa's mouth.

"Ah. There it is. Well, I'm not completely useless after all," Jaime smiled more genuinely even if his eyes still held some tightness in them.

Both corners turned up now. "You're far from useless, Ser Jaime."

Jaime sighed then and brought out a handkerchief to wipe her tears. "Your pain is a special kind of pain that I know terribly more than well enough," he said bitterly causing Sansa to regard him closely but she averted her eyes as she let him wipe her cheek.

"Does it get...better?" she asked so softly Jon almost didn't hear.

Jaime sighed. "It gets worse, I'm sorry."

Sansa sighed as well. "I suppose I already knew that."

Sansa didn't see Jaime looking like a burning man then, making him pause from his action. But before Sansa looked up at him, he schooled his features into his usual smirk. "I'm doing a bad job again."

Sansa blinked then a laugh escaped from her. It was just the one and she clamped her mouth right away and Jon was struck dumb from the novelty of it. When was the last time he heard her laugh? And then he soured again that it was Jaime Lannister who made her laugh and him the cause of her tears, he knew that now.

"Ah. Now you are only trying to make me feel better. I am truly an ass at this, Lady Stark," Jaime grinned.

Sansa smiled at him more genuinely that Jon felt torn from feeling hatred at the Lannister and tenderness that she could still smile truly.

Jaime looked at her more seriously then, his eyes resigned as he cupped her face, drawing a gasp from her.

"I know your pain, Lady Sansa. And I have sworn to protect you from everything that may harm you and that includes the war in your heart and mind. I do not presume to be a substitute or a replacement. But I am at your disposal, my lady. Whatever you ask of me, I'll do it. Whatever it is. May it be... of small comfort or not. I am yours to command. Whatever it is you need. May it be wrong or not. Whatever it is you need to ease some of your pain, I will try. No, I will obey."

Jon held his breath and looked sharply at Sansa then and saw her eyes wide, her mouth hung, and her posture tense as she took in Jaime's words.

"I know what can make you happy, but you know I can't give you that so ask something else and I'll do my best to give it to you my lady," he vowed.

Sansa looked up at him bewildered but flushed when she understood just what he was offering.

"I - I shoudn't," Sansa finally said, shame coloring her cheeks and Jon felt like he truly died once more.

Jaime smirked. "You shouldn't. But you can."

Sansa shook her head and Jon pleaded she go on refusing. "I can't."

"You won't. But you can." he said firmly. "Lady Sansa," he started.

She met his eyes then and waited while Jaime went on his frustrated tirade.

"It's not the best idea. It's not even a good idea. But I want you to experience happiness. Even if just a little.  Your pain will not go away that easily and it'll hurt more before it gets better. You did not survive the fires of seven hells just for you to die without -

"I am happy. I am. My two brothers are alive. Arya is alive. I'm in Winterfell. I'm still alive. I'm home," she insisted but it felt more like her trying to convince herself. "It should be enough. It is enough. More than I could ever hope for."

Jaime dropped his hand and smiled proudly at her. "And this is why you are better than the rest of us," he breathed. "Lady Stark.'

Sansa smiled grimly at him.

"Still, whatever it is you need," he insisted. "I know what you went through. I just can't stand that someone with a heart as big as yours would be so bereft of love...and... touch."

"Touch?" she laughed bitterly. "Love or touch can't save you or anyone."

"But kindness can," Jaime answered just as quick. "I already care for you. And I know it's love you want."

"Yet you don't love me," Sansa whispered as she turned her back on him. "You can't give me what you don't feel."

Jamie smiled sadly then. "But I can give you something else," he said slowly. "And love can always follow, who knows?"

Sansa shut her eyes and held herself but didn't say anything.

"I know you think about it. Not that. The other thing. I know it weighs on your mind constantly...what he did. And I know from personal experience that its enough to crush a man of everything he believes in anymore."

Sansa looked at him from her shoulder confused. "I thought the queen was devoted to you? Surely she didn't love King Robert. I don't even think she shared her bed-" she stopped, looked away and blushed at her words, embarrassed.

Jaime sighed. "No. She didn't love the fat fool. But she wasn't as devoted to me as we all thought."

Sansa looked at him once more in shock.

Jaime nodded grimly. "She hasn't been. Not all along."

Sansa looked at him sadly then and Jon saw her hand clench on her arm. "Cersei told me something once."

She looked down. "Tears aren't only a woman's weapon," she paused to sigh, "the best one's between your legs."

Jaime made an indignant sound at that and shook his head. "Of course."

While Jon cursed himself for not killing Cersei when he had the chance to. What business did she have to fill Sansa's mind with this poison? And then when he weighed the words he felt a rush of guilt.

Wasn't that what you were trying to - he didn't finish that thought. Not when he saw Jaime moving closer to Sansa until finally she turned to face him, looking up at him with doe eyes filled with grief and confusion.

"Do you regret it then?" she tilted her head to better examine him.

Jaime closed his eyes for a moment before leaning closer and answering. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

Sansa moved her head to the side, breaking their gaze as she held herself tighter. "I know it's wrong...what I feel."

"I get it. What I had with Cersei, I thought I wouldn't trade it for anything. Everything I did, I did for her. No matter who gets destroyed in our wake, I still did it. Nothing mattered to me but her and I thought that as long as she loved me back, it's enough," he said as he looked away too but did not step back. "We knew it was wrong, but it felt too good to matter anyway."

"Then..." Sansa started. "What if I - what if he and I would - you'd tell us how we could..."

Jaime held her by the arm then and shook his head. "No. I won't let you make the same mistake. You see how our secret destroyed lives? You see how our selfishness left us and others around us? Nothing good would come off it. It won't be worth it, Sansa - I mean, Lady Stark. It won't."

Tears leaked from her eyes then as she shut them and Jon understood what she was trying to ask of Jaime - trying to ask if they could learn from his mistakes but still be together. The thought that she still hoped wrecked him and tore himself apart because for once, he agreed with the Kingslayer.

Jon hardly cared for what people thought of himself, but what people thought of Sansa mattered greatly to him. He wouldn't allow his love for her destroy her too. He would never ask her to burn in the seven hells with him. He'd burn for the both of them when need be, but he would never drag her with him.

"But-" Sansa tried but Jaime cupped her cheek and leveled with her.

"No."

Sansa was sobbing now. "Then I'll never love again."

Jon almost collapsed as his hands flew to his hair and pulled. He's never seen Sansa look so defeated. And it was because of him. Him. Gods, were there no ends to his crimes against her?

He saw that Jaime was equally torn up as he was but there was an undercurrent of anger in him.

Jaime made her face him and looked at her sternly. "You will."

"Jon was...he's the only reason I started...trusting men again," she said slowly crushing Jon once more while Jaime softened.

"He...makes me feel safe... and even if he doesn't feel the same way I know he loves me...as family," her voice barely above a whisper.

Jaime looked at her intently then and Jon was taken aback from the resolve that was forming in his eyes and once he realized what he was probably going to do, it sent his blood up with rage, his hand going to his pommel.

"My lady, look at me," Jaime demanded.

Sansa kept her eyes shut.

Jaime brushed her cheek and moved it down to cup her by the back of her neck as he leant closer. "He won't be the last."

Sansa started laughing bitterly then. "Yes. There are many who care for me. As a ward. A friend. A sister...That's true. But...Who could ever love me? I'm a broken girl with scars in my mind and my body. I've been married to my family's traitors."

"You are the lady of Winterfell," Jaime practically growled at her.

"And that's all I'll ever will be to them," she practically yelled back, holding his gaze with a furious look of her own. "Just another title."

She was looking at him breathing heavily. "At least for a while."

Jaime's eyes widened but he didn't say anything.

Sansa looked away swiftly after letting out a frustrated breath, breaking away from Jaime's hold on her, shutting her eyes tightly before deflating, all fight leaving her. "They'll only want my name. My face may be pleasant but that is all. And once the war is over and Jon marries... I won't even be the Lady of Winterfell anymore. I'll just be his sister. Good for nothing but to be eventually married off to another lord."

Jaime tried to bring her back to look at him as Jon looked on helplessly. This he didn't think into consideration. Marrying at all wasn't even his consideration. Wasn't he clear? He made her his heir. And he would never marry her off without her approval.

"Lady Stark," Jaime said firmly.

Sansa looked up at him blankly.

Jon saw him try to soften his features but he could tell he was barely controlling himself. "Your brother would never do that to you. He wouldn't marry you off. You know that. He may be many things but your brother is bloody honorable. He wouldn't do that to you. And if he was less a man, he still wouldn't that to you, not when he owes you so much," he said the last part laced with an edge of something. "You are his heir. Winterfell would always be your home. I don't need to say this to you. "

Sansa swallowed and shook her head. "You're right. Jon wouldn't..."

Jaime shut his eyes briefly in relief before giving her a smile and taking her face in his hand again. "And my Lady Stark." That made her look up at him. "If you think that only your name or your face is what lords would be begging to lay claim then clearly you do not know yourself."

She looked away. "It's okay. I've made peace with it already. If I will marry, it would be for duty. No one will ever marry me for love."

Jaime scoffed then. "Fuck that."

She gasped and shook her head ready to protest but Jaime placed a finger on her lips to stop her, shaking his head before taking his finger off and pushing her hair back, looking at her tenderly after calming himself.

"If only you can see yourself the way your people see you, Lady Stark," he searched her eyes. "What's not to love?"

Sansa looked away and blushed then.

Jaime didn't have it as he made her look up at him, his good hand brushing her cheek. "You are more than your name. And you are more than your face. You think the lords out there are forcing the crown on you just by default?"

Sansa still looked at him not believing.

"If you don't believe me, I'll take you to them. I'll take you to your people. On my journey here all I heard was how the Lady of Winterfell was smart to think of preparing provisions for the people - preparing Winterfell as a safehold. But it goes even before this. The Tyrells didn't have to think of snatching you away. Yes there was political aspect but it was more because you've endeared yourself to them too. Even Littlebitch. He's a sick fuck but you've ensnared him enough to change his plans in a way. And then there's Brienne and Tyrion. They are your top supporters. Even Varys is impressed. And Jon," he paused.

"I heard he went to battle for you," he said slowly.

Sansa shook her head. "No. He went for Rickon."

Jaime snorted. "Very well, he still fought for your home even if it was a losing battle to start."

Jon wanted for the first time, for Sansa to believe in the Kingslayer. Believe in everything he just said including why he went to battle.

"In any case, he left Winterfell in your hands and Winterfell has gained so much from it, everyone with eyes can see and compare what you're doing with whatever the fuck is going on in the South and you're doing all of this despite what happened to you. Something that I know I could've done something to prevent," he released her then. "I should've taken you someplace safe the moment I arrived. I should've listened to Brienne, but I thought you were safest as Tyrion's wife and I couldn't return you to Winterfell."

Sansa said nothing for a while before looking back up at Jaime after one long sigh. "Brienne told me the Queen ordered you to bring her my head...but you refused and sent Brienne with half of my father's sword. So Jaime, you did try. And for that I'm gra-

"Do not thank me. Not for that failure," Jaime spat at her.

Sansa flinched and Jaime had to calm himself.

Jaime knelt before her then and laid his sword down in front of her - Widow's Wail without the lion pommel that used to embellish it - she let her keep it until the War is over.

"My service is not much and not enough. My life won't be enough to make up for how my family fucked yours I won't deny, but as long as I'm breathing, I would serve you. Lady Stark," he looked up at her. "Not only because your mother set me free. Not even for your honorable father who offered clemency to Cersei and our children should Robert have survive and the truth came out. Not only because you are my last chance at honor, but because all my life I've served unworthy kings. It's time I choose a ruler worth dying for and that's you, Lady Stark."

Jon had to suck in his breath, finding that with that admission, he had lost this battle to the Kingslayer. He looked at Sansa then who was looking at Jaime softly before weeping into her hands.

Why was she so surprised? What has been happening here? Everywhere he looked, everyone had only praises for her yet why didn't she, until now, believe?

Jaime stood up then and gently pried her hands away from her face and smiled at her. "Come now, my lady. Enough tears. Do you mean to make another Trident?"

Sansa sniffled and allowed him to wipe her face. "I'm doing a shitty job again. Your people would have me drawn and quartered when they found out I added lines to your pretty face," he sighed. "I overdid it, didn't I?"

Sansa looked at him incredulously then before releasing a laugh.

Jaime half-grinned. "There she is. I promise not to make any more grand declarations that would render you weeping. Only jokes at my expense."

Sansa frowned then while he laughed. "What? It's the only thing that worked so far. Me admitting how bad I am at shielding you from any hurt."

She smiled a little then.

"You look better with a smile, Lady Sansa," he crooned.

Sansa grabbed his hand then and looked at him. "Sansa."

Jaime stopped.

"You may call me, Sansa," she gave him another small smile that twisted Jon in the most excruciating way.

He's won her over.

Jaime grinned then and nodded. "Sansa," he tested and Jon hated how smooth it rolled of his tongue. "I've always found your name lovely."

Jon nearly gave out again when he remembered Sansa teaching him... and yet Jaime must've been doing that all his life.

"If you insist, then you have to call me Jaime. None of this ser business for I tire of it, to be honest."

Her cheeks reddened. "Jaime."

And then to Jon's horror, Sansa slowly reached out to touch Jaime's golden one. Tracing it with her fingers and looking at it sadly. "Your hand paid for Brienne's honor."

Jaime sighed. "It was worth it."

Sansa looked up at him then while she still held the golden hand in one of hers, while her other reached up to touch his face. "You're in pain too."

Jaime leaned into her touch and closed his eyes and Jon never felt more jealous, remembering that during their short time together from their reunion, it was almost always Sansa who reached out with her touches. He regrets that he should've been more affectionate but he was afraid of touching her. He wanted to give her time and warning...control...so he let her take what she would.

"I wish you never fell in love with her," Sansa murmured softly.

Jaime's eyes opened and looked at her with fondness before placing his hand on top of hers on his face and keeping it there. "I wish you never fell in love with him as well."

Sansa laughed drily then. "We're not so different, you and I, aren't we...Jaime?"

He laughed back and smirked. "Yes, Sansa. So it seems, I know that now, but then again, I was always a slow learner."

Sansa sucked in a breath at that, shocking both him and Jaime.

"What? What did I say?"

But Sansa was throwing her head back and laughing, shaking her head.

Jaime couldn't help but smile back. "What? What's the joke? Don't be cruel."

Sansa stopped laughing then and simply smiled at him with one of her brighter ones that Jon was struck from seeing it now after not having seen it for the longest time.

"A story for another day," she smirked.

"I'll hold you to it," Jaime nodded before tilting his head and taking her hand off his face but not letting it go. "Do you feel better now?"

Sansa's smile fell. "Some."

Jaime mocked a sigh. "Small steps."

She nodded. "Aye."

And then Sansa looked at him, really looked at him and all trace of humor was gone, filling with hesitation, before slowly turning to resolve.

"Jaime?"

Jaime stopped grinning then and looked back at her with concern. "Yes, Sansa?"

She bit her lip, looked away, before looking back up at him once more. "Do you mean it? What you said about...about doing what I...what I wanted?"

Jon's heart pounded against his chest, his head shaking before he even processed he was doing it.

Jaime clasped her hand tighter then and leant down. "I meant every word. And anything within my power-it's done."

Her eyes shifted again and her cheeks tinged while he saw Jaime swallow. "Anything?"

He could see Jaime's resolve in his own eyes. "Anything."

Sansa's eyes were like storms but she braced herself and lifted her chin. "I've never... I've been kissed before, but I've never," she faltered and started to withdraw when Jaime leant closer and placed her palm on his chest making her gasp.

"Men did nothing but take from you," he whispered, his voice laced with anger.

Sansa looked at him sadly and nodded.

Jaime swallowed again and didn't break from her gaze as he dropped his arms to the side. "Sansa." He nodded and Jon's knees hit the floor as his ears pounded.

This wasn't happening.

"Do you want me to close my eyes?"

Sansa considered this before she slowly shook her head. "No."

He smiled at her then and nodded once more. "Come here and take what you want."

Sansa hesitated.

"It's alright. I want this too," he encouraged and Jon stood straight hand on his sword once more as he saw red. How dare he?

"But it doesn't matter what I want. It's what you want. Don't be scared. Don't let having power over men frighten you. This is power freely given," he said kindly that Jon stumbled back. He couldn't do anything if Sansa wanted this.

Sansa held back a sob, he knew, but he watched as she took a deep breath and towered over Jaime who was still kneeling in front of her, waiting.

And then slowly, she used one hand to trace the side of Jaime's face, while the other held the other side gently, her eyes never leaving Jaime's. And in one quick movement, Jon watched as Sansa closed her eyes and kissed Jaime.

Sansa kissed Jaime.

He felt worse than being plunged into the ice water at what he was seeing.

It was short.

And it looked sweet.

Soft, tender, and quick like a flutter of a butterfly's wing as she withdrew at once but kept her hand on Jaime's face.

Jaime smiled at her and slowly Sansa smiled back.

Her look was a question once more that Jaime answered with a nod and once again, Sansa kissed him, pressing longer, her hands trembling, then she withdrew a hair's breath away from Jaime's lips before taking his lips again, slanting them to fit his and Jon saw Jaime's good hand twitching at his sides - he was restraining himself.

And why wouldn't he?

Why wouldn't he desire her now?

Jon could barely stand it.

Stop.

He wanted to yell.

Stop it now.

That's enough.

But he no longer held that right, not when it was Sansa who was taking the lead.

Sansa pulled away, her breathing hastening as she whispered, "Kiss me ba-

And she was cut off by Jaime's lips pressing back, encouraging, not demanding and Jon was quickly losing his mind as Sansa took his hand and placed it on her face.

Jaime stood then, not breaking their kiss, and was the one leaning down to meet her, placing her hands on his shoulders - and when Sansa wrapped them fully around his neck and reached up on her toes, Jaime wrapped his arms around her waist and dipped down to meet her instead.

Jon watched as they kissed. Watched and watched until they pulled apart, both breathing heavily while Jon's heart broke when he saw the heat in both their eyes that wasn't there before.

They were two heart broken people who tried to do their duties. How could he not how this would draw them together?

Sansa was flushed and panting but still unsure. "Was that...was that good?"

He could see Jaime melt at that as he pulled Sansa closer. "As beautiful as you."

"Jaime?"

"Sansa?"

"I...I've only known... it's only -" shame filled her and Jaime had none of it.

"Everything you thought you knew is shit. It wasn't supposed to be that way. Not at all. You hear me? What you went through was torture. Nothing more. It's not like that," Jaime held her face firmly.

"Then show me."

Jon had to suppress his gasp and he could tell Jaime was taken aback too.

"Show me how it's supposed to be," Sansa repeated.

"Sansa," Jaime swallowed. "Do you know what you're asking?"

"Do you not want to? Do I need to command it?" Sansa's brows met as he looked at him seriously.

Jaime looked torn but Jon could see that he wanted it but he knew he didn't want to take advantage.

"Did you not offer this earlier?" Sansa pressed.

"I did but not...I never expected you'd want it-

"Now?" Sansa raised a brow before sliding her hand down his chest. "Jaime. I'm asking."

"Sansa."

"Show me," Sansa started kissing his covered chest then until she reached his neck making him groan. "Show me," she repeated on his skin while tears leaked. "Show me how I should've been touched."

Jaime looked truly torn then.

Sansa made him look at her then. "Show me how it can be good."

"Then you should stop crying," Jaime finally relented as he pulled her against him.

Sansa nodded at him and leaned up to kiss him once more and this time Jaime did not hesitate to kiss her back and kiss her how he wanted to.

Jon saw Sansa shyly open her mouth to him and saw how Jaime's tongue slowly probed her mouth, coaxing hers to do the same. He felt like a burning man as he heard her mewls and their moans and groans as they explored each other's mouths and though Sansa's hands were gentle and shy, she started to run them over Jaime's arms that stayed put around her waist never venturing away.

Jon knew then that no matter how much he wanted to kill him, he knew from that action that Jaime wouldn't hurt her or force her.

And then Sansa started clawing at Jaime's armor and gave a frustrated huff when she couldn't undo them. Jaime noticed and chuckled, pulling back but kept kissing the side of her face and her neck while he pulled Sansa's hands away.

"Allow me."

He stood back then and kept his eyes on Sansa as he started undressing in front of her.

Sansa watched and Jon saw her eyes were dark and clouded as she watched this man submit to her.

And then there was only his tunic and his breeches.

He watched Sansa intently, looking for any sign of her backing off but she remained as she were and waited.

He pulled his tunic off then and Jon saw how Sansa's eyes raked over her blonde knight's naked torso, marbled and chiseled with wear and some scars from battles and fights adorned his skin.

Jon watched as they searched each other's faces for any last sign of retreat but Jon had all but died once more when Sansa turned around and swept her hair around her shoulders before nodding at Jaime shyly.

Jaime swallowed once more and walked closer, looked at her with permission once more and once granted, he slowly and carefully undid her laces.

So achingly slowly he did it as Jon stood paralyzed in the shadows.

Until all was left was Sansa in her shift, stockings, and her chain necklace.

Sansa turned around then and the firelight did nothing to hide the perfection that was her figure that even Jaime had to gasp.

Sansa then started to unravel her chain when Jaime stopped her hands.

"Keep your weapon on. Not because I'll hurt you," he said and Sansa's breath caught at the implication.

It's so you can hurt me if you need to.

"Just say the word and we'll stop. At any time, just say it and I will."

Sansa looked at him for a beat before wrapping her arms around his neck again. "I want you to keep going."

His hand and his other arm went to her waist. "As my lady commands."

"Jaime, wait-"

He dropped his hold at once.

"I'm not...I'm not ready to...disrobe all the way. Is that...is that...okay?"

Jaime held her face tenderly and lifted her chin up. "Why wouldn't it be okay?"

She smiled then and tilted her face to be kissed once more and he all but complied.

This time their kiss was heated and more passionate, with Jaime's hand in her hair.

When they pulled apart, Sansa rested her head on Jaime's and whispered. "Take me to bed."

No.

No!

NO!

But it was too late.

Jon watch Jaime chuckle and grin at her before swooping her in his arms and laying her gently on the bed, following right after, taking the moment to watch her below him, tracing her face as he smiled so tenderly.

"You are so beautiful," he heard him say reverently. "The most beautiful maiden in the world."

Sansa looked away then but was blushing. "I am not a maiden. Not anymore."

"What nonsense! Of course you are," he looked down at her devilishly then. "You, my lady, have never been made love to which is a grievous crime of the highest rank. And the moment you reach your peak, which I mean to give you is the only moment you can say you are no longer a maiden but a woman in full bloom."

Sansa gasped and whimpered.

Jaime surged over her but kept his weight on his arms, his hand on her face. "Do you trust me? Sansa?"

Sansa looked up at him then adoringly "I trust you Jaime."

"So do you believe me now when I say you are a maiden?"

She was flushed as her hair then but she gave a tiny nod. "Yes."

Jaime kissed the tip of her nose then as he adjusted his arm to brace a bit on top of her head where his hand could still graze her hair that spilled like fire on the pillow. "Good. Because I only rescue maidens."

Sansa giggled then and he chuckled back.

He drew back slightly to press his forehead against hers. "I promise to only be gentle. We don't have to do everything tonight."

Sansa blinked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"There are many ways, my sweet girl, many things I can show you. We're going to take it as slow as you need but it'll all be good, I promise."

Sansa swallowed before she looked at him with complete trust then nodded her ascent.

Jaime grinned once more before he started kissing her once more.

Sansa responded just as eagerly, her hands stroking his arms as she kissed back.

Jaime then left her mouth to trail kisses down her jaw, down her neck, her collar...

Down.

Down.

Down.

Between her breast over her shift but always with his eyes asking permission and being granted.

He reached her stomach.

He licked her belly button earning a startled moan that made him chuckle.

He dipped again and saw Sansa arch up, her hands fisting the sheets as she bit her lip.

Down, down, down he continued and Jon couldn't tear his eyes off or move a single muscle.

This was a dream.

No.

This was a nightmare.

No.

This was his punishment.

He watched as Jaime's hand slid so gently higher and higher up her thigh, disappearing under her shift, as his mouth went lower. He stopped suddenly while Sansa shook her head and Jon hoped that this was where it ends.

But it didn't.

With an understanding smile, Jaime leant back and pulled the furs over their bodies and went back to kissing her, his hand sliding from her face to her neck then lower but always with his eyes asking for permission.

Jon watched as Sansa nodded, her breathing erratic, her skin flushed as she writhed underneath Jaime who was touching her sides over the fabric, his hand coming closer and closer from below her ribs and upwards while he kissed and sucked at her long pale neck, his eyes filled with concentration as they trained on her reactions.

He watched as she nodded again and Jon knew his nails were drawing blood from the way he clenched his fists - tighter when she made a particularly drawn out moan as the Kingslayer mouthed a breast while he palmed the other.

Why was he still watching?

He knew he shouldn't.

He knew he should walk away and leave them.

But Jon was a glutton for punishment when it came to Sansa.

He didn't mean to but he betrayed her.

He deserved all the pain he was feeling.

He deserved to see what his decision did.

They were both groaning now while the Kingslayer kept murmuring praises and sweet nothings while he touched her.

Jon knew he was giving his best in pleasing her, focusing solely on her own pleasure.

And he could also see the Kingslayer's desire as he rubbed against the mattress while he continued his careful ministrations.

Jon's blood still boiled that it was the Kingslayer. If it was another man - someone else - maybe he could stomach it but here was the Kingslayer after everything his family did to destroy theirs... why does he get to have her?

Just because he left his sister for her and suddenly he was the hero?

Jon never wanted to kill someone so badly but for what reason?

He could think of noble ones, brotherly ones, a lot of other reasons but his guilt would only show him what it really was - jealousy.

And it wasn't as if he could do anything.

This was Sansa's choice.

He shut his eyes and leant against the wall then and slid down, biting into his fists to stop from sobbing loudly while behind him the sounds of her moans and his groans filled his ears.

He wanted to bang his head against the wall but just as he was about to, his head snapped up when he heard Sansa gasp loudly.

"Jaime!"

He didn't think but peered inside in an instant and was knocked back down at what he saw.

The furs were pulled away revealing Jamie's head looking up at her from the apex of her thighs, one hand curled around her exposed milky flesh while Sansa was propped on her elbows looking down at him in confusion and shock.

"What are you doing?"

Jaime, grinned up at her smugly. "Kissing you?"

Sansa flushed some more. "T-there?"

As if to prove his point, not breaking his gaze, he kissed her inner thigh earning another gasp. "Here...there... and yes, there."

"It's-it's not...it's not proper-

Jaime chuckled. "It is if it's properly done," he smirked. "If you don't want me to, I'll stop. But remember my promise, Sansa. Only good things."

"Why would," she stopped too embarrassed.

Jaime caressed her thigh and Jon saw her shiver and he knew it wasn't from the cold. "Why would I want to? Was that your question?"

Sansa nodded shyly.

"Because I want you to feel what it feels like to be worshipped," he said gruffly.

Sansa swallowed but she was still unsure.

Jaime sighed, bent down and kissed her thighs before leaning up and bringing her shift down and kissing his way up to her face. "Not tonight then. My shy beautiful girl. No matter. There are other ways."

Sansa relaxed into his kiss while her hands shakily traced his arms once more. Jaime chuckled once and crooned in her ear and back down to her skin. "Touch me all you want. Don't be shy. You can even dig your nails in or pull my hair. Whatever you want." He grabbed at one of her hands then and placed them over his back. And Jon saw the way Sansa brought her other hand on the other side and gently stroked and Jon could just imagine how soft her fingers were and how they must burn through the Kingslayer's skin.

"May I touch you, Sansa?" Jon heard him whisper, his voice getting rough and deep.

Sansa looked at him and with a nod she said yes. "Please."

Jaime groaned then. "Do not beg. You're not in that position. I'm the one submitting."

Sansa looked up at him seriously then. "Touch me, Jaime. I order you to touch me."

Jaime smiled unto her skin and nodded. "As my lady commands," and Jon watched as his hand slid from her stomach then down to her thighs, stroking up inch by inch as he ravaged her neck once more, likely building the anticipation.

Before his hand disappeared under her shift, he claimed her lips, capturing the breathy moan as he knew he touched her there.

Jaime smiled into their kiss and from the movement of his arm he knew he was testing gradually while Sansa was bucking up against him.

"Alright?"

"Y-yes--Oh. Oh J-Jaime," she panted and Jon was the burning man once more.

Walk away.

Walk away now.

But his feet stayed rooted to the spot as he watched the Kingslayer fuck her with his fingers, probably starting with one, then if she was wet enough and ready, add another, and maybe one more but always slowly, gently, until she asks for more while his thumb likely stroked her nub.

"Fuck, you're wet, my sweet," Jaime groaned as well and Jon knew he was shaking now.

"Wet and tight," he kissed her brow.

"Ungh, J-Jaime, is, is that gods, good?" she panted.

Jaime kissed her lips then. "Perfection."

Sansa moaned again, her breath coming shorter and shorter while he saw Jaime's hand speeding up.

"I can feel you clenching on my fingers...you're so close, my sweet girl, so close," he encouraged.

Sansa's head was thrown back, while her mouth parted, her hands clutching Jaime's arm and back, her nails digging in. "Something's-something's happening - Jaime."

"Shh, shh, my beautiful girl. Let it happen. I'll take care of you, I promise. Sansa, let go," he practically growled.

And to Jon's complete nightmare, he watched as Sansa's back arched, her skin flushed, her arms clinging to another man's body like vines, while her mouth was buried in that other man's shoulder in an attempt to muffle her cry of pleasure as she peaked but he heard her loud and clear still.

And Jon has never before seen anything as beautiful as Sansa come undone but also nothing as painful to see and hear her come with another man's name on her lips.

"Jai-me!"

Sansa collapsed back down on the mattress, boneless, and out of breath, a sheen of perspiration on her flushed skin, eyes shut while her arms were thrown back on either side of her head.

The Kingslayer smiled smugly then, lying down on his side as he watched her catch her breath.

And finally Sansa's blue eye peeked out as she turned her head to face Jaime.

Jaime kissed her brow. "Was that alright?"

Sansa looked away then and wept in answer while Jaime looked at her sadly in understanding.

"Thank you," Sansa said chokingly.

Jaime tsked then and leant down, looking at her ready to scold. "No, Sansa. Thank you."

She looked at him confused then. "Why are you thanking me?" she asked in between pants. "You haven't-" she stopped shy once more.

Jaime smirked. "This night is all about you, Sansa. Do not worry about lil ol me."

"But-"

He shushed her by bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking, making Sansa breathe in sharply.

"See? In the end, I still got to taste you and you sweet girl? Perfection," he licked his lips before returning his fingers back to his mouth.

Jon could see Sansa's eyes clouding with desire once more and watched as she pushed herself up with her elbows and moved to kiss Jaime.

Hard.

Fast.

Jaime groaned then and helped Sansa straddle him as they kissed languidly. He watched as Jaime sat up straight bringing their bodies flushed against each other, their mouths never leaving the each other too long.

Sansa didn't mean to press down on his lap but when she did, Jaime groaned and Sansa pulled away and examined him and as if enlightened she pushed down again and rubbed, earning a curse from Jaime that made her smirk.

She was a quick study, it seemed as she started grinding onto him while she kissed him fiercely and Jon was all but mad at this point.

Jaime encouraged her, talking to her again, grinning when Sansa moved his head to mouth at her breast again over the shift, bringing her to her second peak within moments.

Sansa collapsed once more against his chest and Jaime stroked her hair and back as he received her weight. Laying back down so she was fully on top of him then drawing the furs over their bodies while the woman Jon loved, draped loosely, catching her bearings over a man that wasn't him.

"I don't think I'll tire of seeing this. Sansa you are truly a vision when you come."

"If this can be as good as this, how can I survive when - " she stopped again while Jaime chuckled. "I believe you are capable of doing anything and everything."

Sansa moved up still panting and rested her chin on top her hands on Jaime's chest and smiled at him adoringly while Jaime smiled back just as tenderly.

Jon watched as with that one shared look, the Kingslayer was hers.

Completely hers.

Jaime reached up and brushed her hair off her face and stroked her face with the back of his finger. "Does my lady wish to sleep now?"

Sansa raised a brow and smirked. "I tired you out, old man?"

Jaime wrinkled his face then and tweaked her nose earning a giggle. "I'll have you know, I've quite the stamina, young lady."

"Do you now?"

Before Sansa could act, Jaime flipped them over and caged her face with his arms and ground his hip against hers earning another breathy moan from her.

When Sansa opened her eyes, she met with Jaime's smirk and his own arched brow.

Sansa wiped that smirk off his face when she pushed him back and straddled him in one fluid movement. "I want to touch you now."

Jaime looked up at her in shock before the easy playful grin was back. "Whatever you want."

And Jon watch them kiss again and this time, he willed himself to turn around and walk away with his eyes closed.

Laughter and moans, the rustle of sheets, the creaking of the bed echoing against the walls as he started walking away, leaving his heart at the door.

"Sansa."

"Jaime! Y-yes."

Jon sprinted down towards the courtyard then and swung his sword over and over until all six straw training dummies were bits and pieces, working his sword like that same night Winterfell feasted the arrival of the royal party - the feast he was forbidden to attend.

How many nights did he dream of loving her?

How many moments in the day didn't he think of her in every decision he made?

But hate it as he might, the Kingslayer was right.

Even if he told her he returned her feelings, nothing good would come of it. Not if they were who they were.

So he drove his sword, over and over and over.

Hacking away, slashing and cutting while fighting his tears, allowing himself to mourn just this night.

But if this was the price to keep Sansa safe...and happy.

So be it.

He made his bed.

She made hers too.

And now both of them shared it with neither of them.

#my fic #ladymdfic #techincally a jamie lannister x sansa stark fic #but has underlying jonsa #jonsa fic #jon snow x sansa stark #angst #smut #sansa appreciation fic #crack

[ladywolfmd]

“Only when I have to.”

Summary: In the following morning, Jon will ride for the wall together with Daenerys’ army. But before that, he needs to settle another war. So many things have changed and are changing still ever since he came back. The only thing that remained constant was the unreachable drift between him and Sansa and now he was going to try once more what he failed to do that night he witnessed something he shouldn’t have seen between Sansa and her new sworn shield, Jaime Lannister.

Also on AO3

Jon sighed.

Spying blonde hair emphasized by the deep brown leathers as was the standard issue of Northern armor, Jon saw Ser Jaime Lannister standing guard in front of the library entrance and this was where he knew he’d find Sansa at last because, as it proved these days since he came back, that if one was to seek out Sansa, you either follow Ghost or as the men and the servants pointed out, “Your gra-my lord, perhaps you should ask Ser Jaime?”. Since Ghost was out hunting, this only left one choice. Jon stubbornly held out but in the end relented after going up the battlements, the Godswood, her chamber, his, the crypts, everywhere, even getting no help from Arya or even Brienne who were sparring outside and said the same thing “She’s with Jaime.”

So begrudgingly, that’s what he did.

Look for the Kingslayer.

Nowadays, he was the only one who called him that but only in his mind. Ever since the disgraced knight rode to Winterfell before him and swore fealty to Catelyn Stark’s daughter and getting accepted into Sansa’s service, he has slowly endeared himself to the men or at the very least, was tolerated.

It was all because of Sansa, of course. These days also proved that everyone of his men were trying to get into her good graces no matter if it was just to slight him or because they’ve come to see how capable and honorable Sansa was…is. A lady at three, her mother boasted, and now a Queen in all but name, everyone can see that. And if their lady trusted Jaime Lannister, they would not question it. Not when all she’s done ever since he granted her regency, was for the North.

And as the North remembered, they also questioned a lot. Every little thing…just not with the Lady of Winterfell. The only question they had for her was when would she finally take the crown to the North.

So here they were, waiting for his downfall. Probably wishing he’d die in battle so she’d be forced to take the crown at last. Wishing that he and his queen would perish - he knew that and the North would be independent in its wake. He also knew very well what the men thought of him, thought of his queen. But he was tired of explaining himself to them. Death was knocking at their doors and they simply had no time for it.

Still.

Still.

He swallowed.

To him there was only one person he wanted to explain it all. One.

Only one that he wanted - no - needed to understand him. Yet that same person was the only one who never even dared to ask him or showed signs of wanting to know. Even Arya no matter how they were both overjoyed with their reunion, didn’t fail to tell him what a shite he was, telling him that though she loved him best, she was siding with Sansa this time. Bran was…he didn’t even know what Bran was about anymore but he was going to talk to him this evening and find out. But before anything else today, he had to seek out Sansa.

Sansa.

How many times did he gaze at her, willing her to meet his eyes to see him pleading her to ask him? Ask him anything and everything and he’d tell her all that she wanted to know?

But she never did.

She was the only one who without demanding an explanation nor an apology, simply went along with his decisions. And it was only through this that the North still followed him.  He should be grateful. He is grateful.

Then why does it make me feel so ill?

He should be proud and happy that she finally trusted him. He was. He is. She gave him everything he needed from the North right now to win the great war.

Then why does it feel like I’ve lost everything then?

Because in truth, he didn’t get everything he needed yet.

Ever since she came to him in Castle Black, she had been the one voice that could reassure him and make him feel worthy even though deep inside, everything that he was now was because of her efforts. He didn’t want to fight battles, yet he went for her. He didn’t want to be King, but he accepted because with a nod and a smile, she gave her blessing.

And she named him… Stark.

Not officially, but it felt all the same.

He sighed again and closed his eyes, ready to turn back.

A home.

A title.

A family.

She gave him all three, paid with tears, blood, humility, innocence, and love.

And what did he do to repay her?

He clenched his fists and steeled himself to do it - do it now.

Go to her.

Talk to her.

You owe her this much.

He walked over to her sworn shield who regarded him with his signature smirk and those judging green eyes - and by the gods did he want to punch him. Every time he saw him, the Kingslayer would give him a look that was part smug and part angry and he hated himself that he knew why.

The gods were cruel to let him witness Sansa seeking comfort from this man. But when he remembered Sansa looking lighter and better in the morning…after -even smiling more genuinely, he thought that, no, the gods were just for punishing him with this. He knew eventually that Sansa might one day choose someone for her.

He even prayed for it - for her to find some happiness. He swore to himself after learning of her horrors that he’d find a way to make her believe in songs again.

He just…didn’t think it would be from the Kingslayer.

“Your grace  - oh sorry, Lord Snow,” he drawled.

Jon gritted his teeth at the obvious pass, but decided to let it go. “Ser Jaime.” He acknowledged with a gruff.

“Was there something you need, Lord Snow?”

“I’m looking for my sister.”

He smirked deeper but made no move to step away from the door. “Ah.”

Feeling his patience wear thin, Jon blurted out. “Is she inside?”

“She is,” he answered smoothly, his smirk deepening.

Jon pushed his irritation away and simply nodded. He made for the door but was halted when the Kingslayer blocked his path, good hand on his pommel.

Jon’s eyes widened as he scowled up at him, daring him in silent question.

Jaime raised a brow for a moment before relaxing his stance and stepping aside with a grin. “Oh. You meant to speak with Lady Stark?”

Jon bristled at the way he said her title, remembering how he used it as an endearment for Sansa. Slowly, he unclenched his teeth. “What does it look like?”

Jaime chuckled and shook his head. “Apologies, Lord Snow. I thought you were merely inquiring where she was.”

Jon let out a breath. “I’ve no time for your games, ser. I mean to speak with Sansa now.”

Jaime let go of his pommel and crossed his arms over his chest instead. “Urgent matters, I presume?” He kept his brow raised.

“It’s none of your business,” he muttered impatiently, his hand pressed to the wooden door but before he could push it open, the Kingslayer stepped in front of him again, making him step back, and looking condescendingly down at him, all trace of humor gone.

Jon matched him with a look of his own. “Step. Aside.”

He stood firm, eyes holding tightness in them while his mouth curled into a frown. Jon could tell he obviously wanted to say something but held it, both of them opting to just staring each other down, Jaime cracked first with a sigh before looking at him almost apologetically. “Forgive me. It’s just… you should let her sleep a little longer.” He glanced softly at the door before looking back at him grimly.

All the anger and the fight faded away, replaced with guilt. “She’s-she’s asleep?” He glanced at the door himself.

Jaime looked to the side and nodded. “Lady Stark just came back from talking to Lord Royce about the provisions the Vale would be providing. And this was after she visited the only functional glass house with Lord Tarly and Maester Wolkan on what grain or crop they could still try to grow…I only was able to convince her to take her work on reviewing ledgers here. At least here, no one would bother her and she’d be sitting down,” he huffed.

The guilt grew but he took out his anger on the Kingslayer anyway. “Then why didn’t you suggest she take to her chambers instead if you’re so concerned with her exhaustion?”

He could tell Jaime bristled with the twitch of his mouth but he instead regarded him with a raised golden brow. “You think I didn’t try? Lord Snow, as you’ve said, time is of the essence and with the additional people you’ve brought in Winterfell that along with the refugees seeking shelter here upon her invitation, as well as the women and children of the Freefolk that remained… my lady has worked nonstop in making sure everyone is provided for. She’ll not be stopped. Certainly, of all people, you’d be the one to know how stubborn Sansa is.”

Jon almost lost it. How dare he? How dare he make it - how dare he say her name so - Jon shook his head and kept his emotions in check.

“She just fell asleep not that long ago. Let her rest. Lady Sansa has, after all,  not been sleeping that mu-

Jaime was cut off with Jon’s grip on his doublet, just below his throat. The former king in the north’s eyes were mad with rage and was practically frothing at the mouth as he heaved.

Jaime held his ground, dropped his hands to the side, and smirked at him amused and waiting. Jon just knew that everything that left the Kingslayer’s mouth was a hit on him.

The nerve of him dangling his - his - Jon couldn’t even bring himself to complete that thought without feeling like retching or wanting to kill this man.

Ever calm, the prick spoke in a hushed but firm voice. "Might I suggest, Lord Snow. That whatever this is, we take it somewhere else? I’d rather not wake my lady this way.”

Jon gripped him tighter then, his blood boiling over his veins, bleeding on to his skin.

Jaime sighed exasperatedly and in one fluid movement, he stepped forward once making Jon step back while he stared Jon down. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

With one disgruntled breath, Jon released him, his hands clenching at his sides while Jaime stood there straight and calmly straightening his clothes while he looked at Jon passively, waiting for him to make the next move.

Jon stepped forward once more and met his eyes angrily. “If you ever hurt her-

Jaime couldn’t help but erupt into a chuckle as he stared Jon down incredulously.

"You think this is funny?” Jon said through gritted teeth as his nose flared as did his temper.

“I think,” he paused,  "you’re being too loud,“ Jaime crossed his arms again as he whispered his answer back. "Lord Snow.”

He then nodded towards the door and stepped aside. “Go on then. But wait for her to wake up if you can. We’ve all asked her to do so much already. She deserves a moment of peace. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you. Or if you want I’ll have someone send for you once she wakes. It’s up to you, Lord Snow.”

Jon wanted to have it out with this arrogant pompous prick but he didn’t want to miss out an opportunity to be alone with Sansa so with haste but care, he ignored the Kingslayer though he brushed past him earning another irritating chuckle before he pushed the door as quietly as he could and stepped inside.

“It’s about time,” he heard Jaime mutter but he chose to ignore him still.

He walked quietly and found her on the back corner and the sight that greeted him made his heart melt.

There with her head resting on top of her arms over some ledgers, was Sansa.

He slid into the chair opposite her as stealthily as he could and took a moment to just look at her.

Her fiery hair was pulled in one long braid today and roped over her shoulder with a few wisps framing her face which, for the first time since he’s been back, was peaceful and the sight of it drew all his breath in at how beautiful this look on her was, almost too innocent or childlike as if she was back to being that little girl with only songs and stories in her eyes that he knew years ago. Using her words, the sight of her peacefully sleeping felt like an enchantment to him. Something he wanted to preserve and keep forever like this.

Her long lashes fell on her sharp cheeks while her mouth, slightly parted drew out endearingly quiet snoring that was almost too ladylike that he almost chuckled at how Sansa it was.

But then the more he looked, the more he saw how much of the innocence was lost and signs of exhaustion etched on her skin. For one she looked slighter. It could also be from the way the large black furs of a coat that clearly did not belong to her - his insides twisted once more knowing just who it belonged to, dwarfed her but no. Her cheeks were sharper and her beautiful dainty hands were bonier than when he’d left her. How did this happen?

Before he left, he made sure she was cared for enough to regain what she lost to her monstrous husband who starved her as part of his games. Then he saw the shadow under her eyes and the scratches and new callouses on her hands and once more he felt guilty.

This was because of him.

While he was running a fool’s errand in the South, she was busy keeping their home and their men intact.

He was incredibly proud of her and now he just threw all of her effort away. He rarely prayed now but if there was one thing he prayed for the most, it was for his gamble to win out in the end.

He promised to protect her and he’d do anything. Anything at all to protect her so help him.

Damn the rest of them for what they think of him when the only thing that mattered was that she would be alive in the end. Not even what she thought of him would matter to him in the end because he thinks that this is the only way. He’d rather live with her hating him than live without her at all.

Still, if she understood, if this war between them could be settled even the slightest, he’d go to battle and die a happier man.

Finally pushing through his restraint, he gingerly reached out and brushed a few strands of her hair off her face, tracing the side of her face carefully. He withdrew at once when her forehead twitched and held his breath.

She didn’t wake.

But a tiny smile crept up her face that made Jon choke up.

Are you dreaming, sweet girl?

What are you dreaming about, I wonder, that would make you smile so?

Then his heart tightened and he swallowed.

Is it… is it Ser Jaime you dream about now? A knight that stepped out of the stories you’ve always dreamed about?

Or is it…

“Is it me…?” he didn’t mean to say out loud.

“Jon.”

He sat still and stopped breathing, his eyes locked on to her.

Was that my name or did I just imagine it?

“Jon?”

Jon sucked in a breath sharply and everything seemed to happen all at once while he remained unmoving heavily in his seat.

Her eyes fluttered open briefly then closed once more as he watched her unfurl like a flower blooming, sitting straight while rubbing at her eye with one hand while her other hand was covering her mouth as she yawned.

And then, one by one, Jon met with her blue eyes, and once again, he didn’t feel the need to breathe or blink, fearing that if he moved he’d only imagine the warmth and the softness that lingered in her gaze as they looked back at him.

Sansa blinked once then tilted her head as she regarded Jon for a few beats before finally she gave a tiny smile. “Hello Jon.”

Jon sucked in another breath and just continued to gawk at her. Not your grace. Not my lord. Jon.

Just…Jon.

He’d expected to see cold or steel or that polite and unreadable mask he loathed so much, but not this.

Sensing his confusion, comprehension dawned on her and with a sigh she smiled a little wider before leaning back and clasping her hands on top of the table. “Are you alright?”

His brow twitched as he focused on her mouth. He knew she was saying something. He heard it but he was still filled with anxiety. He was prepared for indifference and rage but this was… this was…

He jumped when he felt a hand on top of his clenched one on the table. Surprised, Sansa started withdrawing her hand right away and that was when he came back to himself, grabbing her hand at once and holding on to it with both hands tightly and pulling it closer as he leaned forward.

She was looking concernedly at their hands before slowly lifting her gaze to meet his, her brows drawn while her mouth was slightly parted before closing as she searched his expression before starting again.

“It’s o-

"No.”

He hoped she could see the pleading in his eyes. Do not tell me it’s okay. It’s not. Do not placate me.

Sansa must’ve understood so she kept her mouth shut and relaxed her hand in his grip.

Jon closed his eyes then and pressed his forehead on top of his hands that were clutching one of hers.

Just a little longer.

He knew Sansa was looking at him. He could feel it. Trying to understand what he was doing or what he was trying to do. He thought he could do it. But with just one sliver of affection from her after so long, he was undone. He didn’t realize how much he craved this. How much he came to rely on her reassurances.

How he just missed her.

He let out a breath as some relief washed over him that she wasn’t pulling away. At least, not yet.

When he realized that the silence stretched out for too long, reluctantly, he lifted his head, and met her eyes.

Her eyes were the same beautiful blue pair that haunted him day and night especially all those days he was apart from her. Her gaze was soft like that time she told him he was nothing like the royal prick that was Joffrey but her posture was still slightly guarded.

He settled for a smile. “I missed you.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Sansa.” What was I saying? This wasn’t what I sought her for.

Sansa’s eyes wavered before she gave another small smile. “I miss you too,” she said sadly and the guilt started backing up again.

Ever since that conversation he witnessed, he couldn’t shake off the knowledge that Sansa felt the same way. That knowledge should’ve made him feel some joy but instead, it fed him even more guilt and shame.

And now he said he missed her and never one to miss a beat, she said she misses him.

And now she was looking at their hands at how tightly he was holding on to hers and he dared search her face and saw that she was thinking about something…something close to pain. What do you know? He wanted to ask. Just tell me and let’s be done with it.

He looked at her small hand in between his and the image of this same hand being held and kissed by another made his chest hurt and his blood boil once more before the thought that if indeed if it was as he suspect that she knew what he did… then maybe she was feeling the same as he was from this touch.

He looked up at her again and saw that she had more control of her expression once more in the silence but her eyes still held a sadness that she couldn’t quite keep and it killed him that if what he heard was right, it was his fault. He wanted to tell her it wasn’t what she thought.

It wasn’t.

It was but not quite the whole of it.

Everything he did, was for her.

“Sansa-” he started but she held her hand and shook her head.

“You don’t need to explain,” she said quickly.

Jon stood up then and knelt in front of her, grabbing both her hands in his as he looked up at her. “Let me.”

She looked down at him startled and shifted her gaze sideways. “Get up. Jon, get up - you can’t be seen like-

He gritted his teeth and shook his head firmly. "Your sworn shield is outside. This may be my last chance.”

She blinked confused. “Jaime is-

Jon bristled and snorted but did his best to reign the jealousy in. "Yes. He promised we won’t be disturbed.”

She softened then and looked softly at the direction of the door. “Oh.” Jon felt another stab in his chest at the fond look in Sansa’s eyes.

Jon squeezed her hands once, redirecting her attention back to him. “Sansa.”

She was starting to slip her mask on as she looked at him but he saw the brief twinge of pain in her eyes making him flinch a bit.

“What is it…Jon?”

With the way she struggled to say his name now he almost shattered into pieces but he held on. “Sansa…just ask,” he pleaded in a voice barely above a whisper.

Sansa considered him then, a war of emotions in his favorite blue while her mouth was set in a frown.

“Please,” he urged, squeezing her hands again.

She let out a breath then and looked away slightly before settling back to meet his gaze. “Are you alright, Jon?”

Jon’s brow furrowed at her question before he realized what she was actually asking but he didn’t want this to be about him. “Sansa…Are you alright?” he asked in answer.

She smiled slightly. “I’m…alive.” That should be enough isn’t it? Is what he knew she meant to say.

His chest constricted while his gut dropped still he pleaded once more for her to ask and because her being just alive and standing wasn’t enough for him after all.

Sansa sighed then and looked away. “You leave tomorrow.” What would be the point of this discussion? Would it change anything? He could practically fill in.

“Sansa, please look at me,” he stoked her palms with his thumbs.

Slowly, she turned her head and looked at him, her eyes tight with control as she searched his until finally she spoke. “Do you have everything you need?”

Jon clutched at her hands tighter, leaning closer and holding her gaze. “Not everything.”

Her lips parted slightly while her eyes widened a fraction as she continued to regard him, brows furrowing before smoothening in an instant, transitioning into a resigned look as she leant forward and gripped his hands. “You have my support. You know that,” she said with an edge of exasperation only those who knew her could tell.

He choked. “Sansa,”  he shook his head unable to form the words.

She looked at him sternly not getting what he meant. “You do. You do.”

“I know that,” he said through gritted teeth making her withdraw slightly in shock.

“Then what else do you want from me?” she looked at him with frustration and was that finally irritation? That Jon almost wept with relief to see some of her control fraying at the same time he felt his heart shattering more and more at her question. What else? What more can I give that I haven’t already given?

What else, Jon? He asked himself as well. He wanted so many things from her but none of them was his to ask. None of them he felt worthy of or was even allowed to have.

When he didn’t answer, Sansa let out a huff of frustration and looked away, shutting her eyes tight, before calmly looking back at him. “Jon.”

He looked up at her, making sure she had his full attention as he drank whatever she wanted to say.

She smiled sadly, extracting one hand tentatively reaching for the scar on his face, his eyes closing on instinct as she traced the line from his brow to his cheek and withdrawing and when Jon sensed that his eyes flew open and he grabbed at her hand, pressing it to his face and keeping it there.

“Sansa, please.”

Her eyes were troubled and for a moment he thought they misted until they settled on resolve as she sat up straight and kept her face serious but not cold or hard. Just contemplative. This was as good as it was going to get.

“Alright.”

Jon let out a breath then and nodded. Waiting for her to continue.

“Was it hard? This decision you made?” But he knew she meant, Did it feel difficult? Did it weigh heavy on your mind?

He nodded once. “Aye.”

She blinked and nodded back. “Was it premeditated? Not something instinctual?”

He loved her even more for how she was phrasing her questions. How it lead with assumptions of what she thought to expect from him rather than outright accusations that his eyes softened as he looked at her. “Aye. I’ve thought it over more than once before speaking them.”

She kept her calm, not giving herself away and once more he loved her even more because it was as if she expected no other answer - how she knew him more than he thought to credit her for.

But now a look crossed her features and her gaze drifted away slightly before coming back. “Were you thinking of the North when you decided?”

He wanted to yell of course he was but he knows she was leading to something. “Aye.”

Without missing a beat, she followed up with, “Were you thinking about father?”

That set him back a moment, wondering where this was going but he nodded fervently. “Aye.”

“Were you thinking about Robb?”

“Yes.”

“Rickon? Arya? Bran?”

Jon looked up at her desperately. “Yes, of course I was-

She looked away then cutting him off, shutting her eyes before slowly guiding them back to him and in a small voice, she asked,”…me?“

Jon reached up and cupped her face then forcing her to look at him. "Sansa, yes.”

Sansa looked at him unwaveringly then even if her mouth was still set in a line until she shut her eyes and wrapped her hands around Jon’s wrist as he cradled her face. You’re all I think about. He wanted to say.

Jon rested his forehead against hers then and closed his own eyes, keeping them in this moment.

It was her who broke it. “Was there…no other way?”

Jon withdrew then reluctantly but kept his hands were they were even as she released her own.

“This is the surest way,” he answered finally.

Sansa searched his eyes again before giving a resigned sigh. “Can this be undone? Your decision?”

Jon hated this game. Hated how he had to think this way. Hated how he can’t just simply answer what he desired even with just Sansa. He may no longer be the king, but he would not discredit Sansa’s loyalty to him by dishonoring the cause he chose that she had repeatedly told him she would support.

“Any decision can be undone but I mean to honor what I have already declared just so,” he finally answered carefully choosing his words.

Sansa leant away then and that was his cue to let her go and he did reluctantly but took hold of one of her hands anyway. She didn’t pull back.

“Then it must be so,” she declared simply yet spoke volumes.

Jon took a deep breath and sat beside her then. “Aye.”

“Then why-

He stood then and looked at her frustratingly, no longer able to keep his emotions in check. "Why are you being like this?”

She looked up at him confused. “Like what?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “This! Sansa, aren’t you -

She began chuckling bitterly that Jon had to stop and watch her carefully.

"You want me to be mad? Is that it? You want me to lecture you? You want me to point out every little mistake? Is that it?”

“Yes!”

Sansa scowled at him for a score before leaning back after a disgruntled breath. “What would it matter, Jon? It’s too late. What would be the sense in it? Nothing would change. We can spend all day looking at every angle, every option, every mistake and the result would be the same. And I’m tired, Jon. I don’t want to fight you,” she said the last part hushed.

Jon chastened then when he saw her melt in exhaustion against her chair, her shoulders heavy as if the world was pushing her down and she was barely pushing back.

“I’m so so-

Sansa looked up at him then cutting off his apology and beckoning him to sit down beside her again, offering her hand that he took at once. "I told you, Jon. It’s done. You have my support. You don’t need to explain. You are my king.” She clutched his hand and unleashed the full force of her stare at him. “Do you understand?”

Jon couldn’t help the strangled sob that escaped him then as he bowed his head over their clasped hands, shutting his eyes and gritting his teeth.

“Oh Jon,” she stroked his hair but he didn’t feel worthy of it so he pulled away and looked at her straight.

“What did I ever do,” he swallowed, “to ever deserve this…loyalty?” he choked.

Sansa’s brows were furrowed as she looked at him intently before she lifted a corner of her mouth. “Do you remember what you told me? When we were at the battlements? After I apologized for the Knights of the Vale?”

Jon looked at her confused. Why would she bring that up?

“Well, I do.” She said not waiting for his reply. “You told me we need to trust each other. That we can’t fight a war amongst ourselves.”

He stopped sobbing then.

“And do you remember, on the bridge what I told you? Before we received Cersei’s letter?”

Jon had to smile then. “You asked me if it would be so terrible to listen to you.”

She smiled slightly then and sighed. “I did say that but I said something more before that.”

Jon thought back. “You told me to be smarter than father - smarter than Robb.”

She smiled wider. “Yes, what else did I say? What else did I tell you Jon?” she gripped his hand and a wave of affection came over him when he finally understood what she meant.

“Yes ,Jon. I meant what I said then. I still do,” she said reverently, squeezing his hand once more.

You are good at this. Ruling. You are.

You are.

“You should’ve been Queen in the first place,” He squeezed back. “You’re better than me at it.”

She laughed once and shook her head. “It’s more than just being better at it.”

She searched his eyes again. “Lord Tyrion told me you made a spectacle of yourself at King’s Landing.”

Jon cringed trying to get the memory of it away.

“I just want you to know that just as you said that people should start honoring their words or words would mean nothing, I mean for the North to honor their vows to you when they forced the crown on you,” she said firmly and carefully.

Jon could only stare at her as he took in her words.

“If I wanted the crown, I could take it. But why should I take the fealty of men who would so easily change their minds and usurp me at the next mistake? They didn’t heed our initial call. And when we won, they chose you. When you decided to go South and hand me regency, you asked for their trust. They gave their trust. The North must remember as we’ve always done before. The South can have their games, but the North must hold their word,” she reached for his face again. “Just as their king does.”

He couldn’t help but bring her to him then, hold her, and bury his face in her neck and breathe her in. He held her tighter to him when he felt her wrap her arms around him as well.

“Only you would think this,” he whispered in her ear.

“Sometimes…all you need is one person to believe,” she whispered back. “Well, in this case, the right person to believe,” she said lightly.

Jon laughed then. “Aye, you’re the only right person who needs to believe. They adore you.”

She laughed as well and it was music to his ears. “Well, it took feeding my husband to his own dogs and executing a mockingbird, to erase all doubts in me, mind you.”

He shook his head, disagreeing. “It’s not that. You know it’s more than that.”

She sighed. “It doesn’t matter. The North is yours.”

“I’m not a king anymore.”

She sighed again but held him tighter. “When the war is over, we’ll figure it out. We’ll get it back. I trust you.”

He pulled back then to look at her. “Why do you believe in me so much?”

Her eyes misted then as she looked at him sadly. “Do you have to ask?” she answered brokenly.

He knelt before her then and rested his head against her lap.

“Jon, stand up. You shouldn’t-

He kept shaking his head and holding on despite her efforts at pushing him away.

"No, Sansa. You shouldn’t.”

“It’s too late for that.”

Jon looked at her then and he saw it clearly - as clear as day.

She loves him.

He stood up then and leveled with her. “Then you should also know why I’m doing all this.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and Jon wanted to laugh bitterly.

Now you know as well.

Sansa turned to walk towards the window then and watched passively, her expression shifting in a war to collect herself.

Jon chose to follow her with only his eyes, knowing she needed the space.

The window rattled from the snow storm that was building outside, the only sound that interrupted the silence.

Jon watched her place a hand against the glass before sighing. “The things we do for love.” She looked at him then with a small sad smile.

He wanted to cross the room and kiss her then but he remembered where Sansa heard this - from whom she heard this and was reminded why he couldn’t.

Why they couldn’t.

He shut his eyes briefly before nodding. “Aye.”

He walked slowly over to her anyway, keeping his distance but still being close enough to study her profile.

Reluctantly when he knew she won’t meet his eyes, he looked out the window and saw Daenerys with Missandei and Ser Jorah below.

“She’s really quite beautiful…”

Jon whipped his face to look at her and saw the sadness back in her eyes.

“Sansa-

She looked up at him then and smiled, shaking her head once, ending further discussion.

"I don’t love her,” he felt the need to blurt it out and be done with it. It was true. He learned to be fond of her, that’s true. But it wasn’t enough to fully love her.

Sansa was taken aback from the sudden declaration but still she looked away and back to watch outside the window and said nothing.

“I don’t.”

Still silent.

“I love-

She looked at him then and shook her head, looking at him sternly. You can’t. We can’t.

"But you do care for her, don’t you?” she asked him seriously.

He sighed long and heavy. “Aye.”

She smiled slightly then, satisfied though he saw her eyes flash in pain. “Sometimes…sometimes care is enough…”

And there he felt the worst of the blows he could ever receive in both of his lifetimes.

She was letting him go.

And care, she mentioned care and all he could think about was how Jaime looked after her with care and how she accepted it.

She was also asking him to let her go.

They looked at each other then, their eyes searching each other, their hands clenched, hers in front of her, his at his sides.

It was clear what was between them. Jon knew that now and he knew she knew it then too.

Jon wanted to say it, but her eyes pleaded no.

Sometimes care is enough.

He knew what other thing she meant.

Sometimes knowing is enough.

She offered a smile then and though he wanted to weep, he had to muster enough to return it.

I love you. Her eyes said.

I love you too, he hoped he conveyed as well.

Maybe this should be enough.

Maybe the world might think that he loved another but he only needed Sansa to know the truth.

When he proclaimed her regency, he was actually declaring his love for her.

The North is a part of me. It’s my home. I left both in capable hands - yours.

And I’m going to fight for her to keep it no matter the odds.

And now looking at her, at what she’s done for him.

By refusing the crown, by giving him her support out before the lords, despite her speech on honor earlier… she declared her love for him.

He wanted nothing more but to close the gap and kiss her anyway. Show her what words fail to say. And he could tell she struggled too but there was more hesitation on her part.

And then he knew why. She spent so many years in the clutches of lions, she knew what union might bring. She bore its marks just as Bran was crippled, just as Arya hardened, just as all the rest of them were dead. Even Tyrion suffered. The Kingslayer lost his swordhand. Innocents like Myrcella and Tommen, good children he met died. Why only Daenerys is what’s left of her line.

You can’t choose who you love. It’s true.

But you can choose duty over love.

He wanted to hold her one last time though. Surely they can have that much?

But before he could step closer, they were interrupted by the arrival of Ser Jaime.

“Jaime, what is it?” Sansa looked at him worriedly and Jon couldn’t deny that it was jealousy he truly felt this time.

“Apologies, my lady. My brother is asking for an audience with you. I think he means to hand you your annulment,” he said humorously.

Sansa smiled and shook her head chuckling. “Well, I’ll receive him in my solar in a moment to tell him his watch has ended.”

“Ah. An inside joke, I presume. Very well then,” he grinned at her and waited.

Sansa glanced at Jon then before looking at Jaime apologetically. “Can you give us a bit more time? I’ll meet you outside.”

Jaime looked between the two of them, looking at both of them warningly that Sansa nodded at him chastened while Jon only felt irritation.

Sansa placed a hand on his arm then and he relaxed, fighting the urge to smirk at the Kingslayer who simply huffed and nodded, taking Sansa’s hand and making sure he met Jon’s eyes as he kissed the back of it before leaving. “Try not to take too long. People are also looking for you Lord Stark. I take it that with how long the two of you spent here, you wouldn’t want people to speculate. I took the liberty of not telling them you were here with my lady,” he said and walked out without waiting for a reply.

Sansa tightened her grip on him then before releasing. “Well…duty calls.”

Jon scoffed then angrily wanting to thrash the library in outburst. “Aye. Duty,” he gritted his teeth.

“Jon.”

He ran his hands over his hair and sighed. “He cares about you,” he said so suddenly.

Sansa looked away and Jon felt ill when he saw her cheeks color.

“He’s only here to fulfill his oath to my mother,” she muttered.

Jon snorted. He knew about that oath as Brienne told him. It may have started that way but he knew with the way he was looking at her now that it was starting to be more than that.

She looked up at him then. “It’s true. He thinks I’m his last chance for honor.”

“Honor,” he scoffed remembering what he offered her that night. “Do you trust him?”

“Jon-

"Sansa.”

She sighed then and nodded. “I do.”

Jon surrendered then, remembering how much better she looked in the morning after what he saw. And try as he did to ignore it, she was…happier and more at ease when the Kingslayer was with her.

Sometimes care is enough.

“Jon, I don’t-

"Sansa, don’t-

She stopped then and suddenly Jon had the overwhelming need to know. "Is he…is he kind to you at least?”

She pursed her lips but nodded. “Jaime is very kind.”

He sighed and nodded at her then before drawing her to him, stroking her hair before kissing her forehead, lingering just a little longer than necessary before pulling away and smiling down at her. “I’m leaving the North in your hands again.”

She sighed as well and smiled a true smile finally. “Try harder not to lose it this time.”

Jon chuckled. “Aye.”

Sansa looked at him seriously then. “Jon. Come back okay?”

His gut dropped. “Sansa-”

“Please. Promise me,” she gripped his doublet then and her eyes shone with building tears.

“I’ll do my best to come back to you,” he cupped her face.

She closed her eyes tightly then and bit her lip, holding that expression for a moment, shattering him once more, before nodding.

Jon stroked her cheeks. “Sansa, should anything happen to me-

She kept shaking her head then, closing her eyes once more making him want to weep for the hundredth time but he had to be strong.

He held her face more firmly. "Listen to me. Sansa. Listen. Please.”

She opened her eyes then and tears flowed out as she looked at him stricken.

He mustered a smile no matter how hard and brushed his thumbs over her tears. “Should anything happen to me, take the crown. Lead the North. But should we fail, you run. Take Arya, Bran, Brienne, Ghost, and… your Jaime. Run. I’ll make arrangements for all of you to head East.”

She tried to shake her head again. “Jon.”

“Sansa, you said you trust me. I need you to trust me to keep you safe. Can you do this for me? Will you do this for me?”

She closed her eyes briefly again before holding back a sob. Then she was wrapping her arms around his neck and nestling her face on his shoulder. “Is this a command?”

Jon shut his eyes as he held her tighter to him. “Only if it comes down to it.”

He felt her take a deep breath then before she nodded against his shoulder.

“You’ll do it then?” he wanted to hear her promise.

“Only if I have to,” was her answer.

It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but it was as good as he was going to get.

They held each other for a moment longer until they both knew their time was up.

When they pulled away slowly, Sansa leant close, held his face in one hand and kissed his cheek, lingering as he did that he shut his eyes and reveled in it until she had to pull away.

Sansa smiled softly at him then and pressed something in his hand.

He looked down and saw that it was a white handkerchief with an embroidering of two wolves. A grey one and Ghost.

“A favor. For whatever luck it may bring,” she shrugged. “Will you accept it from your sister?”

Jon felt his chest catch once more as he looked at her though it hurt when she said sister but he managed a smile anyway.  "With this favor, then how can I think to lose? Of course I’ll accept it. Thank you my lady.“ He placed it over his heart.

With one final nod and grin, Jon watched her turn around and walk away.

It didn’t take long for him to catch up to her, telling her that he’ll just walk her to the door when she looked at him in warning. She sighed but snatched his hand anyway as they walked.

Once at the door, Jon watched as she took Jaime’s offered arm, both of them exchanging smiles before walking away while he looked on.

Jaime looked at him and Jon had to nod and that would be enough as Jaime nodded back in understanding.

Jon was about to turn around when Sansa looked back at him.

And just as before, Jon smiled at him and gave her a wave knowing full well that he’d have to do this all over again tomorrow.

Sansa didn’t wave back but smiled at him knowingly before turning around ready to continue her duty.

Jon stayed in the library and rested his head back at the wall.

Sansa would be safe with Arya, Bran, Brienne, Ghost… and Jaime.

This should be enough.

It must.

With one last sigh, he left the library to tend to his duties once more and seek out Bran later on.

#jonsa #jonsafic #actuallyjonsa #my fic #ladymdfic #jon snow x sansa stark #jaime in the middle #angst #hope

[ladywolfmd]

You can take my breath away

Summary: "You can take my breath away...or you know, give it back."Jon hated jet skiing or any water sport for that matter. But this year, the Targaryens chose to spend their long weekend at one of the resorts at the Trident. Forced to try the sport, he gets expectedly wiped out much to his horror but the next thing he sees is a flash of white and a blaze of red and sudden warm lips covering his own. Also on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11772489

This is a bad idea.

That's what Jon Targaryen thought before he was dragged into water skiing.

It was fine at first when it was him who was on the jetski, with his aunt Dany doing the skiing.

"I swear to the Seven if you don't drive me, I will shave all your curls off Jaeharys!"

Oh yes, he could still remember the shrieking and glaring Dany gave him when he flat out refused.

He still refused.

It was the guilt that got him to agree.

His father was in lunch meeting because this was a working vacation while his prick of an uncle Viserys couldn't be swayed because all he wanted to do was drink Mai Tais while Aegon was driving for Rhaenys using her cream colored jet ski, Viserion. So that really left him.

When Dany's fuming and death threats didn't work on Jon, she switched to another tactic. Emotional blackmail.

"Rhaenys is so lucky to have a supportive brother. Whereas I got stuck with two brothers who neglect me, one to his duty, one to his vanity," she pouted, her purple eyes misting. "I just wanted to try out my new jet ski. I was so excited to test Drogon. But I guess it's not meant to be."

Jon swiped his hand over his face then and offered before Dany cries and he'd never hear the end of it from everyone. She was the darling dragon - the highly favored, the breaker of wills.

"Fine, but when I'm driving I'm using Rhaegal," he grumbled. Making his way over to his green jetski.

Dany hugged him then and there they were.

It took some time but Jon figured out the  true reason Rhaenys and Dany insisted on doing the skiing, performing tricks and all.

It was the lifeguard.

A tall guy with broad shoulders and red curly hair.

The two of them kept winking at him, waving at him and all the mooning. But this guy, he could tell, took his job seriously. While he did manage to smile back at them from time to time, his eyes were glued to each and everyone on the water much to the girls' disappointment.

"Why don't you just go up to him when he's on break or when his shift is up? He's not going to return your mooning," Jon called behind Dany when they stopped for a break.

Dany just gave him a smirk. "Oh I know. I'm just making sure I'm on his radar."

"Maybe I should just fall and pretend to drown," Rhaenys sighed from behind Aegon when they glided beside them.

Thankfully, Aegon had had enough as well. "Alright, you girls had your fun. It's time Jon and I had our own race," his indigo eyes were flashing while his grin was challenging. "What do you say lil bro?"

"No."

His smile fell and even Rhaenys raised her brow at him. "No?"

Jon shook his head once. "No."

"Okay fine, no skiing. But how about a good ol jet ski race? I'll let you name your terms," he sing-songed.

Fuck.  That's interesting. Time for a little payback.

"If, and I do mean this, If, I agree and I win, will you let me use Balerion?"

Aegon's eyes narrowed at him. Jon never did have the best record with cars. And this one was Aegon's baby - a black and red Bugatti Chiron, that flies more than drives with its sweet W16 engine. Jon can't wait to crash it...by accident of course.

Aegon did, after all, nearly wrecked his silver Monza he called Ghost.

"Fine, but if I win, I get first dibs on asking out Val," he smirked and Jon scowled.

Aegon didn't even like the blonde doctor Jon's been trying to work up the courage to ask out. "Deal's off. I don't like using people as bets." He said more for his honor than jealousy.

His silver-haired brother rolled his eyes. "Fine, if you lose, Rhaegal is mine."

Ha! You can fucking have it. I hate water sports anyway. He was the one smirking this time. "Deal." They shook on it.

"Hurry up and get us back on land so we can flirt with the hot lifeguard," Rhaenys smacked her brother's back.

"You could bounce quarter's on that bum," Dany sighed.

"Forget bouncing quarters, I want to lick that six pack while I'm bounci-whoah!" Aegon laughed wildly as he cut of Rhaenys by speeding back to the banks.

"What a dick," Dany muttered. "Don't you dare do that to me, Jon."

Jon gave her a salute before going back.

After settling on a course, Jon and Aegon started back with Dany now on her black Drogon.

"Ready?"

Aegon winked at her while Jon just rolled his eyes.

"Okay, on your mark--ready--get set--go!"

Their dragons roared to life as they sped off the water so fast Jon wasn't sure they were actually touching the water.

"Take it easy on Rhaegal, little Jon, wouldn't want my new jet to get wrecked," Aegon shouted over to him.

Jon pushed until he was a hair ahead of Aegon. "Yeah? Well I can't wait to test Balerion in Dorne with all the sand and st--

"WATCH OUT!!!"

"TURN! YOU IDIOT, TURN!"

But it was too late.

Jon hit a rock, throwing him off and straight under the water.

The impact was so fast and great that he lost consciousness for a second before coming to again, struggling to come up but his foot was still stuck to the harness attached to Rhaegal - well, attached to the scrap of metal that was fast sinking both of them. Just how big was the rock?

He was losing oxygen fast, his vision becoming blurred with pin points of light while his limbs felt like lead.

He continued struggling for a while before he couldn't keep holding his breath anymore, exhaling one big bubble before his eyes started closing.

And then he saw it.

A flash of white and red from the surface coming towards him.

It might've been his mind playing tricks but he saw a pale hand stretching towards him.

Instinctively he reached out but he never found out if the hand was real or not once the darkness overwhelmed him.

Images.

Blurred images.

Flashes.

They came and went as he drifted in and out but they were all the same.

Red and white and the sensation of being pulled.

The next time he came to, the frantic voices of his family barely registered his still fogged up mind.

All he could see was red. So much red and touching.

He was about to choke out water when he felt wet warm lips covering his own, two fingers pinching his nose, while he also felt fingers tilting his chin up.

He tried to speak but it came out as a groan and immediately, the warmth left him and he was choking out water painfully, wheezing and hacking out as he felt the grassy bank beneath him. When he was done, his head hurt so much that he shut his eyes and groaned again.

"What's his name?"

He heard a pleasant feminine yet roughened voice ask.

"J-Jon," he heard Dany sobbed.

He felt a hand then on his shoulder.

"Jon? Hey Jon? Are you with us?"

He managed to squint an eye open and immediately his jaw dropped.

Leaning, practically hovering above him, one arm braced beside his right side, her right hand still on his left shoulder was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. Beautiful and wet, he noted, seeing the drops of water running down her face and body.

Her eyes were the bluest blue he's ever seen, he locked gaze with it. Her pink lips were parted as she was still steadying her breathing, his eyes darting lower to her heaving chest that he only needed to move a bit forward to graze with how close it was, his eyes quickly shot back up when he realized he was staring, noting instead her long fiery red hair that seemed to burn under the sun, wet and plastered against her forehead and her long white neck -

Her eyes shifted back to Dany or Rhaenys or he doesn't know, Meryn Trant or whoever he didn't care at the moment, willing her with his mind to look at him again while he panted below her.

She did and he saw her full lips move again. "Jon? How are you feeling?"

"My chest feels a little tight. Throat burning. Headache," he gritted.

"Do you know where you are? What day is it? Who you're with?"

He swallowed and it hurt but he can't not answer this woman who he didn't know why she was there. "Green Fork. Friday. My family," he looked over the relative nearest him and saw Rhaenys. "Rhaenys."

Rhaenys was crying and smiling but before anyone could get near him, the redhead shook her head at them. "I'm almost done."

She looked back at him. "What's the last thing you remember?"

He thought for a moment before answering. "I didn't see the rock. Fell under. Got stuck on the life cord then a flash of red...and a hand."

Her lips quirked up on one corner. "Ah. I see."

"C-can I sit up now?"

She nodded and leant back on her knees and that was when I saw that she was wearing the standard red bathing suit with the white cross on the chest and a silver whistle dangling on her neck.

Fuck.

"Y-you're, you're," he sputtered and on the background he could hear snickering.

She leant forward and helped him sit up by putting her arms around him, making him feel warm despite the cool water drying on his body. She giggled. "You gave your siblings a fright there."

She let go once Jon was sitting up on his own, assuming her previous position of half kneeling across from him. "My brother and I tried to warn you about the giant rock you hit." She pointed towards it and it was indeed a massive rock where below it bits and pieces of his green jet was floating about.

"Your jet got completely smashed and you were brought down by the life cord still attached. I had to cut you out," she gestured with her hand.

"You - it was you - the hand - you saved me," he said almost reverently.

Her cheeks colored as she pushed some of the wet strands on her forehead away.

"Oh you should've seen it Jon," Dany looked at him with a knowing grin. "She swam so fast then dove for you and she pulled you out. Did you know you stopped breathing from then?" She paled at that as a look of horror flashed her eyes before she shook her head. "She had to start giving you rescue breaths while pulling you towards her brother's life raft where she continued breathing for you once you were on it."

It was Jon's turn to blush as he tried picturing it then cringe that it actually happened.

What did they say about how funny the universe was? That the day you find the love of your life you'd be on your worst appearance?

Seven hells what a fool he must look like to this gorgeous woman who had to save his life when he was doing something stupid?

Why didn't he just die then?

He covered his face with his hands and groaned.

He jumped when he felt a hand on top of his then that his arms flew to his sides as two deft hands started examining his head.

"Are you okay? I didn't see if you hit your head but I didn't see any bleeding before? Where does it hurt?"

He could barely understand what she was asking. He was too busy analyzing their proximity.

She was so so close that he wanted nothing more but to lick away the droplets on her neck and lower.

More snickering in the background that he snapped out of it and was greeted by those blue eyes again, filled with concern that even if he didn't drown in the Trident, he just might in these blues.

He shook his head but the motion made him wince. "I-I'm fine. A little lightheaded."

She sat back down and nodded but her eyes still analyzed him.

Just then the lifeguard - the only lifeguard he saw before, the one the girls were ogling jogged up to her, gave him a one over before addressing his savior.

"Is he okay, sis? Do we need to take him to the hospital?" sis? Ah that explains the red hair and the blue eyes.

"I don't know. Oh you're shivering!" He watched as her brother opened his kit and handed her a blanket. "I don't think you need to go to the hospital," she said softly draping the towel over his shoulders. "But we do need to observe you back at the first aid tent for at least four hours. But we can still take you to the ER if you prefer to be observed there," she then handed him an oxygen mask attached to a small tank her brother gave out next. "I'll need you to breathe on this for every few moments."

He obeyed but he couldn't face her, feeling ashamed.

"Hey, this happens a lot you know."

His eyes shot up and Jon saw her give him an understanding smile.

He put the mask down and he swore he was melting under her gaze when he realized he hasn't even thanked her yet. But before he could even thank her, his family interrupted.

"Can we hug him now?" Dany asked.

She smiled and nodded at her. "But gently."

At once two sets of arms wrapped around him. "Oh my brother will kill me if you drowned!"

"Gee, thanks for the concern, Dany."

"Aegon! Get over here and apologize to Jon. It's your damn fault!" Rhaenys ordered his brother. "Jon, I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks now I know who gets the biggest christmas gift from me."

Aegon smiled at him sheepishly when he crouched beside him. "Sorry. I'm glad you're not dead. I jumped in the water right away but your gorgeous lifeguard was like a mermaid, she got to you first. Thank goodness we have such brave, strong, and not to mention, gorgeous rescuers like Miss Stark around," he grinned purposefully at her who blushed.

Her brother raised a brow then and stepped closer to her. "A blessing and a curse. You should see the ridiculous boys we had to ban for pulling fake drownings when it's her shift," he shook his head.

"Oh, I bet you have your share too handsome," Dany purred.

"Yeah, you were so very brave as well," Rhaenys batted her lashes at him. "What's your name again?"

"Robb," he coughed, his ears reddening. "Anyway, my shift is over." The two girls grinned eagerly but he walked over to Jon then. "I'll take you to the tent now if you're okay to move."

"I'll come with you," Rhaenys walked close.

"Me too."

Jon rolled his eyes. "No. I'm fine." He then looked at his savior who was eyeing him curiously. "Thank you Miss Stark."

She crouched in front of him and offered a hand. "Sansa. Just Sansa."

"Sansa," he tested. "That's a beautiful name." He almost cringed at how corny that sounded. Aegon agreed, cackling behind him.

Sansa blushed but brushed it off by offering her hand again. "Can you stand?"

"I'll try."

He took her hand then, marveling for a moment at the feel of her small hand in his larger one. His legs felt wobbly and before he knew it, he was leaning against her as her arm darted around his shoulders to support him. "Whoa, easy now."

Dany looked at him then and smirked just for him before plastering an innocent smile at Robb. "Maybe Sansa should take him there? Like a little break. She did just rescue someone."

At that moment Jon wanted to hug his aunt, he looked at Robb with hopeful eyes but was met with narrowed ones.

"Maybe I should. That way, We can endorse better and I'll come back right away to relieve you," Jon almost had his jaw drop when he saw Sansa give her brother the same innocent look Dany just gave him.

Robb rubbed a hand down his face and nodded. "Fine."

It was only a second but he swore he saw Dany and Sansa exchange smirks.

Sansa then walked towards him, her luscious hips swaying while water still kept running over her perfect body. Fuck, don't go there. It won't do to get turned on in trunks.

She wrapped an arm loosely around his waist and picked up the oxygen tank with her other hand. "Ready to go Mr. Targaryen?"

"Jon."

She grinned wider, "Jon. Will you follow me then?"

Where? To the seven heavens? To Old Valyria? To all seven hells? Yes! Anywhere!

They started walking and Jon was very aware where their bodies were touching.

"Sansa," he tested.

"Yes Jon," he felt tingles whenever she said his name.

"Really, thank you for, erm, saving me."

She giggled. "Just doing my job."

"Still, thanks," he insisted.

She stopped then and moved in front of him, eyeing him up and down that he almost whimpered at how hot and cold she was making him feel.

"I had to literally push Robb and order him to get the life raft just so I'd be the one to dive in after you," she said in a low voice, her hand tugging at one of his curls.

He didn't know how long he gaped at her thinking of her words. "R-really?"

She smirked sexily. "Someone's got to save that cute bum," she winked at him before reddening, turning away and biting her lip.

Her sudden shyness gave him a boost of confidence as he turned her around and pressed her to the nearest wall - which was actually a shed. "I'm feeling a little lightheaded, maybe I need more rescue breaths."

She balked at him before cracking into a smile. "Well then, I am bound by oath to del-

Jon didn't give her time to finish, leaning forward and kissing her despite the aching of his chest and head.

She broke off for air but he started kissing and licking away the droplets that were still on her neck and shoulder like he's been wanting to do since he saw them.

The blanket dropped and Jon shivered. "Wait - you're cold."

He pressed himself against her then and whispered in her ear. "Lucky for me, my savior is warm." He sucked on her lobe making her moan and that moan made him hard.

She felt it. "Wait - you won't be ready for that yet."

"I'm the peak of health thanks to you," he was panting from her and from pain but he didn't care.

She pushed. "No one's peaking unless you've rested your lungs."

He groaned and relented.

Sansa chuckled while she picked up the blanket, draped it back around him, and offered the mask again. "Come on, be a good boy."

He perked up at that. "If I be a good boy, will I get a reward?"

She pouted. "And here I was, saving your life and all and I have to reward you?"

He grinned at her then and pulled her flush to him again. "The second I get a green light, I will dedicate my life to serving my savior her every need and want."

She squeaked then and Jon grinned wider leaning down to kiss her again but she ducked quickly and smacked his ass - hard.

With a cocked brow she grinned at him. "Naughty boy now come on. The faster I get you there, the faster you get your green light."

"Yes ma'am!"

She wrapped her arm around him again while Jon kept trying to steal kisses from her. "That's it, mask on until we get there. Stop it. I need to go back to my post."

"I don't think your brother would mind staying for awhile," he whined.

Sansa giggled. "Your sister and...cousin? Are quite a pair."

"Aunt and sister actually."

"I see," she grinned before cringing. "I just hope they make sound decisions."

"Well they'll definitely make sounds," he couldn't help it. "Still, really, I owe you my life Sansa."

"Oh, stop. Really, it's nothing," she reddened.

"But you will, won't you?'

"Will what?"

He half-smiled hopefully. "Let me show my gratitude."

She looked away but he could see her blushing and smiling. "You really don't have to. It was my pleasure to save you. And when I took this job, I don't expect anything back. Seeing you're okay is enough for me. I'm happy I got to help, really."

Jon's eyes softened. How perfect was she?  

"I insist. Please. Help me get my manly dignity back."

She sighed then rolled her eyes before chuckling. "Fine. I might slip you my number. Emphasis on might."

"Or, I could drown again on your shift and you have no choice but to give me rescue breaths again."

She turned and narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would."

She sighed again. "Well, we're here. In you go."

He touched her arm. "Wait, really, please let me take you out sometime?"

She considered him before smirking. Saying nothing while pushing him inside where he was immediately ushered in by a nurse. "Sansa?" he looked over his shoulder while Sansa was mid-explaining to the doctor on duty.

She just winked at him before continuing her narration with the doctor.

While the nurse led him to sit on a gurney and instructed him to take it easy and keep puffing on the mask every few seconds, his eyes never left his sexy savior.

His heart was skipping when she started walking towards him.

"Well, I guess it's time for me to go."

"Sansa-"

She leant down and hugged him then but it was over before he even knew it was happening.

With a final kiss to his cheek that left him breathless, she smiled at him one final time before leaving with a wave.

Leaving him to groan and contemplate life.

Of course a goddess like her wouldn't be interested in someone like him.

If anything, she'd probably go for Aegon. Fucking Aegon.

But then the doctor interrupted his dark thoughts as he examined him, asked him questions, then instructed him to continue as before.

"Oh and because I know how it feels, I'm giving you this early if you promise to be a good patient for the next four hours," Dr. Patrek Mallister, his coat read.

"I will," he said immediately, dying of anticipation.

Dr. Mallister gave him a slip of paper with writings in green ink. His face broke into a huge grin when he saw that below her name in elegant script, was Sansa Stark's number.

"Must've been a hell of a rescue," Dr. Mallister whistled.

"I'm just lucky, I guess," he barely answered still staring at the note.

The doctor snorted and started muttering about 'nearly drowning' and 'luck' while he saw to another patient.

Life was truly funny.

It took taking his breath away to find a woman who both gave him his breath back but took it away later on anyway.

He's definitely going to call in for more rescue breaths from her.

Especially after he's shown her his deepest, sincerest, gratitude while on his knees before her.

He smirked while puffing on the mask.

Better stock up now before he goes...under...again.

And again.

And there he found a new kink.

Getting rescued and finding ways to earn it.

He leant back and imagined ways of getting her to rescue him again.

Maybe I'll need chest compressions next time.

Or what was that move before? Sometimes rescuers give a...wank to show responsiveness? Fuck that's hot.

I should get a t-shirt that says, "Sansa Stark saved my life."

...and wear it every time after she fucks me.

Yes. Definitely getting a t-shirt if she does.

#jonsa #jonsafic #fanfiction #JONSAFORLIFE #fuckboatbang #savingjonsnowandotherextremesports #ladymdfic

[ladywolfmd]

Brother

I just want to be clean," she said in a broken whisper.

And then I knew what to do.

               The Aftermath of the Battle of the Bastards. 

It's been a tiring three days since Sansa and I were declared co-regents. Fealties and oaths were taken, positions and seats filled, and the bloody rest.

Aye there were more to sort out. We were hardly skimming the surface. But winter is here and that took precedence.

No.

It was a high priority – paramount to everyone but me.

My priority came more in the form of a girl with hair kissed by fire.

A girl I haven't seen or spoken to all day. But if I'm being honest, we were too rushed into our roles that we hardly had time to speak at all these past few days.

I had just come back from the wildling encampment they have stationed temporarily along the Wolfswood, doing my rounds of our men while Sansa took it upon herself today to see to the household and the remaining guests.

Most of the lords and their men had already gone back to their keeps to regroup and prepare for the winter. Only the Knights of the Vale with Littlefinger and Ser Howland Reed and a few of his men were still here. I have yet to talk to either though I would have to start with Lord Baelish later. I didn't like the way he looked at Sansa. The faster I rid of him, the faster I can rest easy. If it were up to me, Longclaw would be giving me another head but Sansa would call me an idiot. As much as it irritates me to seven hells, having his head wasn't smart right now.

Ser Howland Reed however was insistent that I see him in private. I will but my gut was telling me to wait until I send off Littlefinger.

But first, I have to see Sansa.

As I reached the castle I saw Podrick who immediately went to me and bowed his head. "Your grace."

I grimaced. I would never get used to that. "Pod, have you seen my sister?"

He ducked his head and blinked. "By midday she asked to retire to her chambers, your grace. She was unwell."

Worry coursed through me and I wasted no time to head towards Lady Catelyn's former chamber, which she took for her own.

When I saw that there was no one stationed at her door, a shot of irritation went over me. She must've sent them away again, stubbornly. I would have to get angry with someone again later.

I knocked and there was no answer. Dread filled me when I tried the handle to see it give at once. No guard. No lock.

When I entered her room I was greeted at once by the warmth it was well known for but it did nothing to quell the icy fear itching its way up when I saw the room immaculate, untouched, and worst of all…empty.

Where was Sansa?

My heart was hammering away while I stood numb for a moment before I willed myself to move and move quickly.

Something was wrong.

I went out of her room quickly and grabbed the nearest person I saw in my path. "Where is your lady?"

I could see that I frightened the poor boy but I couldn't be bothered. "Y-your grace I-I-"

Then I saw a flash of white.

Ghost.

He blinked his red eyes at me, howled low then ran.

I left the lad and followed Ghost. He was running towards the east end I gathered while trying to match his pace.

And then it hit me.

I knew where he was taking me.

My heart dropped.

And I knew Sansa would be there.

"Seven hells!"

I could make out the light coming out of the single open door at the end of the corridor of the East wing.

It came from Ramsey Bolton's room.

I pushed faster and finally Ghost stopped outside the door and howled. And for the first time I saw him whimper and whine.

When I finally saw it, my heart dropped once more and took off until all I could hear was the sound of my pulse and I couldn't feel anything but that pulse.

I was prepared for many things but I was not prepared for this.

The room was thrashed and in disarray – broken pieces of wood and glass were everywhere, cloths and garments ripped and torn were on the floor – the biggest of which was a snowy white.

A single lantern on the floor illuminated little but highlighted enough evidence of the room's sacking.

But the sight of the mess was nothing compared to the smell.

It smelled of wet dog and a brothel.

Worse.

It smelled of blood.

That brought me back to my senses, that and the sound of splashing water and angry scrubbing from the adjoining chamber.

That and the pleading of Sansa's loyal lady guard mixing with Ghost's whining.

I rushed through the bath chamber and as if my heart wasn't shattered enough, it broke once more and pierced me all over.

"Your grace!" Brienne exclaimed, releasing her grip on her hilt. Her eyes were panicked and desperate but I paid her no heed and gawked instead past her.

I finally found Sansa.

For all the strength she's shone as Lady of Winterfell, as Queen in the North – she was neither right now.

For all our victory – her triumph, in this moment they felt empty.

Here she was on the wooden bath, bare and scrubbing vigorously on her skin, her eyes shut as tight as her clenched jaw, mouth open revealing her gritting teeth. And I knew what she was doing. And I knew the sacking of the room was her doing. I knew why she was doing this and why she was doing this here.

She needed destruction.

She needed reclaiming.

Without a second thought I was down on my knees and had my arms around her from her back to give her some modesty while I attempt to calm her. She struggled and fought as I tried as gently as possible to gather her arms and lock them against her chest with my own, my arms a cross with my hands ending on her shoulder, caging her before she scrubs her skin raw.

I held her tight to me and rocked her. "Shhh. Sansa. It's okay. I'm here. It's just me. Its just Jon. I'm here. I'm here. I'm here."

She still struggled then became lax. Surrendering.

Then I felt the hot tears on my arms.

"He's all over me Jon," she said in the smallest voice, her shame and defeat lacing them.

I held my breath.

"I can't get him off of me," she whimpered a little louder her tone both held anger and sadness.

What torture was this?

Before I went mad I had to muster everything I had to take control.

I looked over at Brienne who was still here and waiting, looking as helpless as I was. "Brienne, could you please get her a fresh set of clothes and a drying cloth? Just –

Before I could finish my request I felt Sansa tense up realizing that we weren't alone, and halted her crying – her face I imagine to be her icy mask.

I made her face me and looked into her frozen eyes that hid little than what I expected – showing her own desperation and defeat. I've never seen her look so much like a child right now.

I caressed her cheek and kissed her forehead. "I'll just talk to Brienne Sansa and I'll get back to you. Alright sweetheart?"

She closed her eyes and turned her face away before giving a nod.

Hesistantly, I walked over to Brienne. "Just leave the clothes outside this door. I will bring her to my chamber in a while. Have our supper brought to our solar. Tell the people we are retiring for the day and will see no one until morning. I don't care what reason you tell them. Just make sure this floor is empty. You may wish to stand guard by the stairs if you wish but you alone and maybe Podrick for tonight."

Brienne nodded at once. "Understood, your grace."

"Oh and Brienne…" I started but she shook her head and looked me straight in the eye as an affirmation, knowing what my next request was.

Tell no one.

I let out a breath. "Thank you."

She closed both doors as she left and I went back right away to bring back my arms around Sansa who started sobbing – really sobbing.

The way she cried right you knew she wasn't holding back anymore.

She wept.

And wept.

And I could only hold her and whisper reassurances to her while I held my own tears.

"I can't get him off of me Jon," she repeated. "He's still here." She started to attempt clawing at her own skin, fighting my grasp but I held her tighter to me.

"He's dead, Sansa. He can't hurt you anymore," I rocked her.

"No matter how hard I try, I can't scrub him off my skin. I'm tainted Jon. He ruined me," and another rack of sobbing and shaking took over her.

"He's right. I can't kill him. He's a part of me. He's dead but he's still here," she cried her tone frantic and horrified her hands clutching my arms over her chest.

I shook my head and crooned into her, my hands rubbing her shoulders

"No. He's dead. He's gone. Nothing remains of him. Not his body. Not his words. Not his name. We both saw to that. But you – you are alive. You survived. You fought. You won, Sansa," I answered almost pleaded to her. "He suffered."

"Was it enough?" she spat bitterly. Then her eyes widened and she looked truly horrified and ashamed.

"I'm a monster." She wailed.

"How am I different from him? When the hounds ripped him to pieces – I smiled," she was breathing shallow quick breaths now.

"How can you stand me?"

Why did I choose to go out today?

I should've been here for her earlier.

Why didn't I burn this room the moment we set foot in the castle?

Why didn't I ride south with her the day she left for King's Landing?

I kept on rocking her. "You are no monster. You are nothing short of perfect. He deserved worse than what you did. And you didn't do it alone. It's on me as well and I am not the least bit sorry. I want to resurrect him just so I can kill him again and again until I am sure he is at the deepest end of seven hells. It was justice, Sansa. Justice was served."

"I just want to be clean," she said in a broken whisper.

And then I knew what to do.

"Sansa?"

She stilled.

"Look at me sweetling,"

Slowly she turned her head to face me and I almost faltered in my resolve.

She was so broken and it was up to me to pick up her pieces.

"Do you trust me?"

After a few beats she nodded.

I kissed her forehead long and deep, noting the coolness of her skin. If I had to do this, I had to do this fast before she truly freezes from the unheated water she's been using.

I stood up and gently made her position herself at the tub with her knees pressed to her chest and her arms around it.

She never looked so young.

I clenched my fists.

Her eyes never looked so old.

I took the washcloth and some of her oils and set out to do my task.

I started with her neck, then her shoulder, then her back, taking great care over her healing wounds, my tears now flowing freely, the difference she surely felt from the cool bath water but neither of us talked. I continued washing her from behind, giving her as much modesty I could.

I washed her collar then her arms one by one, kissing the back of each hand as softly as I could. And she let me. Completely in surrender, she let me.

There was no tension.

There was no strain.

There was no malice.

Just trust.

I've never felt as helpless as I was today but this was something I could do. Something only I could give her right now.

And that was to be her big brother at this moment.

This was something Robb would do.

It is right that we were hardly siblings before despite some moments that were so rare as it were.

And we were barely siblings now – family yes, but a family thrust together by circumstance, clinging to any semblance of home.

But we were close to that.

And we had only each other.

I tried to remember the only time I felt we were truly siblings and that was when we were so much younger.

And just like before while the rest of the Stark brood were away, we found each other.

We were five and eight once more.

Yes.

Yes, I can be her brother right now.

I know I haven't been… entirely noble with my thoughts of late. I catch myself in…in confusion then I draw back and curse my shame the next.

It wasn't right.

But it was, seven help me, so easy.

It was so easy to love her.

I knew I've always had love for her from the moment she was first brought into this world and even when she was occasionally awful growing up, I still cared for her.

I don't know why I'm even feeling shame, needing to explain to myself why I love her.

She was my sister. Of course I love her.

But.

No. No buts. No more questions.

She is my sister.

I am her brother.

I love my sister.

I pushed all the confusion away and focused on my task.

And when I made to just wash over and under her breasts she stopped me and I wondered if I went too far but she just shook her head and placed the hand holding the washcloth over her breast and nodded at me.

"It's okay," she whispered. "I need you to."

So I did as I was asked. I washed every part of her, my find focused on the sole purpose of healing. I knew she needed this.

I swore to the old gods and the new that no one can touch her without her approval ever again. Not when that one rule has been breeched over and over from men I couldn't protect her from.

Now that she was free of them, she just wanted to be clean – stripped off their unwanted touch.

And my touch no matter how unworthy of her was welcome – at least in this moment. I also prayed that I was truly helping her with this, replacing some of the memories of those unwanted touches with the one she chose now. This was a touch allowed. I wanted to give her all the power of choice.

I know I've touched her skin before. I tended to her wounds after all. Showed affection in some small ways. But this was different.

I know that some scars would never heal.

But this was a start.

Cleansing was a slow process – stewing in your own filth, washing your imperfections.

I made her look at me then, my hands on her face, her own on my wrists.

Trust.

"Dearest, you are not tainted. You are not ruined."

I kissed her forehead. "You are strong."

Then I kissed each of her eyelids. "You are brave."

I kissed the tip of her nose. "You are glorious."

She opened her eyes and locked them with mine.

Trust.

I gripped the back of her neck. "Never let anyone tell you otherwise," I said firmly earning a tiny gasp from her.

Finally I softened my gaze and relaxed my hold. "Do you believe me?"

She took a deep breath and gave a small smile before nodding.

I grinned at her and embraced her, letting out a deep breath of my own before continuing with rinsing her. I was probably soaked through my clothes as well but it didn't matter.

When I was done I went out and saw the items I've requested from Brienne folded neatly in a stack on the floor and beside them I saw three buckets of water – warm.

I took one and bade her to close her eyes as I poured the warm water over her and a small smile appeared on my face as I saw her cold skin turn pink from it.

She was warm.

Crossing her arms over her chest she rose and I turned away slightly as I helped her out of the tub. I began to dry her skin as quickly as I could before helping her to her dressing robe then set out to dry her hair.

She insisted on dressing herself so I could change out of my wet clothes, our backs to each other.

And then she turned around and wrapped her arms around my bared middle.

"Thank you Jon," she said through my chest.

I ruffled her hair. "Let me just finish up here."

She didn't hear me. Her eyes were on my torso and I was suddenly aware of my own scarred body.

I was about to put on my tunic when she tentatively touched the scar above my heart. It was my turn to still.

She traced it lightly with her fingers, her blue eyes impossibly sad when she looked up at me.

"It doesn't bother me that much anymore," I said. A lie.

She didn't believe me but she said nothing, just raised a finger to another scar. "Can I?"

Trust.

I closed my eyes, swallowed and nodded, trying to relax as I awaited her study.

Her gentle fingers traced each scar softly like whispers against my skin but her touch was deeply felt and sunk through my bones.

My eyes flew open as she lightly dropped a kiss over the scar above my heart then the next and the next.

I could only stare at her, trying my level best to keep the tears from falling for the hundredth time today.

Just as I tried to wash away all traces of abusive memories from her skin, she was replacing each thrust of betrayal on mine with her innocent kisses.

"Sansa…" I breathed out.

She looked up at me and smiled before wrapping her arms around my back once more. Immediately I reciprocated, bringing her closer and stroking her back tenderly while we both let tears flow again.

This time not from sadness.

I dropped a kiss to her head. "Let's get you to bed."

At the mention of bed she stilled.

I nuzzled her cheek. "I won't leave you alone tonight."

She looked up at me then and beamed and it was like staring at the sun.

I did this. I grinned.

With a surprised gasp from her, I picked her up and started carrying her, her arms instinctively wrapping around my neck.

"Jon! I can walk," she exclaimed.

"I know but let me do this for you. Just let me take care of you sweetheart," I pleaded.

She searched my eyes and finally understood that as much as she needed to feel taken care of, I needed to make her feel that I wanted to be the one to take care of her.

She nodded and tucked her head under my chin and held my neck tighter. When we were at the threshold between the bath chamber and the bedroom, I could feel her stiffen.

I nudged her to bury her face on my chest and held her tighter. "Don't look."

I kissed her head once more. "I have you."

She nodded into my chest then relaxed a bit.

I forced myself to avoid looking at the trashed bedroom I swore to burn down first thing tomorrow and quickly walked away from its wretchedness.

Never again.

Never again will I allow her to be caged and used.

She will know choice.

She will know power.

And she will have them.

I swear it to the old gods and new.

With her safe and warm in my arms right now, I also want her to know another thing.

As I cast a glance at her half-asleep form, finally looking peaceful, the soft glow of torchlight making her lovely and delicate, I swore another oath.

I will probably never live up to her image of father or Robb but I swear I would die trying to be the knight from her songs.

I would probably never be the knight she deserved, that would always be Robb's place, or the prince she used to dream about, but I would be the protector she needs.

With everything I had, I would do my damnedest to make my sister believe in songs again.

AN: This is an excerpt/chapter 5 from my story “Where will we go?” I wrote last year. I’m reposting this chapter as it was the hardest one I wrote for it and I needed to revisit why I love their relationship so much and I believe it didn’t just happen right away, but was built slowly and naturally starting with them being what they weren’t before, siblings. I just put it up again because I need something to keep my ship a float for me. 

But if you want to, you can read the rest here:  http://archiveofourown.org/works/7554304/chapters/17181232

#jon snow x sansa stark #jon snow #Sansa Stark #jonsa fic #jonsa #fanfiction #angst #hurt #comfort #season 6 #ladymdfic

[ladywolfmd]

Ars Longa Vita Brevis

Summary: "The Art is long. Life is Short." - Hippocrates Jon is a fresh board certified Trauma Surgeon, attending conventions and workshops in between looking for a hospitals and moonlighting to start on a real practice. On one convention hosted by The Emergency Medicine Department of Casterly Rock Metropolitan Hospital, he chances upon seeing Dr. Sansa Stark, a fifth year Neurosurgery Resident. The last time Jon saw Sansa, she was a first year med student while he was a third year and were both attending a summer suturing workshop in Highgarden.

(You can read this in AO3 too: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11545893

"Attention passengers, this is your captain speaking. We are just about to touch down at Lannisport Airport in about 10 minutes, and we are on time. The weather around Lannisport is clear and sunny and will remain throughout this summer solstice. Thank you for flying with us today."

Jon had just woken up with a start, the weight of sleepless nights after taking on extra shifts from two hospitals he was moonlighting in at Storm's End, still weighed heavy on his lids. Ever since he passed the oral boards - the final frontier before he could officially call himself a licensed Trauma Surgeon - five months ago, he's been busy scouting hospitals that would take him on so he could start his practice. So in between applications and waiting, and of course, after a well-deserved, long overdue vacation he took, (He went sandboarding in Dorne, with his co-residents, Ed and Ned. Namely, Edric Storm, and Edric Dayne), he was moonlighting in different ERs, joining medical missions, and of course, attending many conventions and workshops to keep sharp.

And this time, he would be going to a postgraduate course in Casterly Rock.

While waiting for the plane to land, he lazily looked out his window and marveled when he saw the outline of the famous Rock come to view even from still high up. The massive stone hill was the second tallest structure in Westeros, second only to the Hightower Castle in Oldtown, while The Wall rounded up the three as the third highest.

The unmistakeable rock indeed looked like a lion staring up the sun, and much as I wasn't a fan of the Lannisters in general (because frankly who is?), the Rock was indeed looking beautiful the closer we approach. Jon thought. Especially the ostentatious castle, which looked like a golden beacon on top of the hill - like an offering to the gods.

As the plane descended, Jon watched as even the waters of the Sunset Sea gleamed ochre, proving its namessake with the sun setting over it while red sails with golden lions dotting over the bay, signaling that they were now approaching the famous docks of Lannisport.

As more of the walled city showed itself, more reds, golds and lions as adorned by the uniforms of the men of the City Watch were everywhere,  making Jon fight the urge to roll his eyes.

At least you had to hand it to the Lannisters. Spare no expense indeed and this will only get more grand and obnoxious in  an in-your-face-you-are-in-Lannister-territory obnoxious, the closer we enter the lion's den.

Jon suddenly thought of his uncle Viserys and aunt Dany - and this time he didn't hold back from rolling his eyes.

Dragonstone wasn't better. He shook his head and chuckled, the view of the runway coming closer and closer as they approached.

Dragons and Lions and too bold colors. He shook his head again.

I prefer Direwolves.

This time he smiled more genuinely.

Once they landed in LanX, Jon was impressed with the service, for indeed, it was truly one of the world's best, never mind that Jon has never seen as many blondes in his life and he was just at the airport.

It only took Jon barely ten minutes through luggage and the checks when he was already on a shuttle to his hotel in Casterly.

The twenty minute ride went without issue. Jon was thanking the old gods that his cabbie wasn't chatty so he was able to enjoy the view of the Sunset Sea as it stretched out from up the skyway.

He took a moment to pull out the brochure and program souvenir they mailed him after he registered.

"The Emergency Medicine Department of Casterly Rock Metropolitan Hospital, welcomes you to its 78th Annual Postgraduate Course with this year's topic: "Breaking Brains and Bones" An Update on Head Traumas and Fractures, Approaches in the E.R."

Venue: The Lann Regency Hotel

July 12-13, 2012

The course was open to all specialties and even general practitioners and all allied health professionals but most of those who were going were, of course, Emergency Medicine specialists, General Surgeons, Trauma Surgeons - like me -  Internists, and of course, with the topic, Neurologists, Neurosurgeons, and Orthopedic Surgeons.

Neurology was always a waterloo of Jon since medschool and since he won't be able to avoid head and spine traumas in the E.R., he quickly grabbed the opportunity to attend when Rhaenys, his older sister by his father, showed the ad for it when she visited him in Storm's End while she was attending an Obstetrics convention held there.

"Try and explore The Rock while you're there. For all the pride the Lannisters have, it's well founded there. It's honestly beautiful once you get past the sea of blondes," Rhaenys chuckled. "Anyway, you'll see Dr. Tyrion there and maybe Sarella."

Jon smiled. Dr. Tyrion Lannister was one of his favorite professors at Dragonstone University where he studied. He was a Neurophysiologist but was more famous for being a Bioethicists. He was also scheduled to do a lecture for the course and he'd be sure to attend.

Sarella Martell, however, was his sibling's cousins from their mother.  She was an Anesthesiologist who specialized in Orthopedic cases as well as a Toxicologist like her father, Dr. Oberyn Maryell.

His thoughts were broken his phone rang. Dany. Daenerys Targaryen, Jon's aunt.

"Hello?"

"Jon! Are you in Casterly already?" came his aunt's cheerful voice.

"Almost. Still in the cab. How'd you know?"

"Drogo saw your name on the listings. He's asking if you're also staying at the Regency."

Drogo was Aunt Dany's husband. They met when she was assigned as a diplomat in Pentos. Drogo, in turn, was an Ortho jock there and it was no surprise that he would also be attending. Why didn't I think of this earlier?

"I'm staying at the Regency. Give me his number, I'll call and maybe we'll get drinks later," Jon always liked Drogo. Sure he could easily murder an army with his bare hands, but he was actually a decent guy - and putty in Dany's tiny hands. He smirked.

"Great! I'll send it. We've actually been there before so he could show you around. Tomorrow's the start of your thing, right?"

"Aye,"

"Perfect. I"ll tell him. Enjoy your time there - but not too much! Remember, dragons are better than puny lions," she giggled. "And you are still a dragon no matter what."

He snorted. "Okay." I changed my name, okay! Move on.

"The next responsible thing to do is to tell you to go meet a girl while you're there but I don't think I could stomach you bringing a Lannister to join our bloodline," she gagged. "Soooo... the compromise is to say, have fun and don't forget to use protection!"

Jon hung up, embarrassed, before he could hear her cackling on the other line.

Trust Dany to take a jab at my on-again, off-again relationship with Ygritte Ryder, an EMT I met in Skagos where she lived. Sure we weren't labeled or constant, but long-distance would do that to you. She's still my first love or infatuation or whatever worked and we talked and met up as we could, but we both knew that we were just each others 'in-betweens' until 'the one' comes along. I was nothing but fond of her and we did try more seriously but we both knew there was something that was amiss.

Before Jon could think further, the cabbie alerted him.

"We're here sir."

Jon stepped out the cab, grabbed his bags, and paid the driver before turning around and facing the entrance of the hotel.

The entrace of the Lann Regency was just as lavish as most everything was at Casterly. It was fronted by a giant fountain with the bottom filled with golden coins as part of the decoration, while the red tinted double glass doors were framed with a pair of pouncing lion statues made of gold of course.

Cars and shuttles and even limousines with flags came and went, with people, some in business suits, some in more casual travel ones, mostly went up looking to check in. Like Jon, most of the doctors opted to fly in a day or night earlier.

With one last look behind him, Jon started walking up.

"Here we go."

Day 1

After two of three sessions in the morning, they were given a fifteen minute coffee break. And breaks like these usually meant making the rounds on the different booths of the sponsors, set outside the plenary halls which included, for the majority, the different pharmaceutical and medical equipment companies, promoting and selling old and new products.

Jon was looking at one booth that sold surgical instruments from the brand he favored. While he was comparing the different pocket minor sets, Drogo came up behind him holding two black coffees.

Jon accepted one and thanked the hulking doctor with the long pony tail to match his long beard. "Thanks."

Drogo nodded. "Minor sets?" He looked at the table Jon was examining.

"Aye. Can't have enough of them," Jon half-smiled.

Drogo answered with a nod again, moving towards the drills and rods. Like Jon, he wasn't  much of a talker - well, a sober Drogo anyway. Jon almost smirked at the memory of Drogo slurring along last night and drunk calling Dany. Almost because he also remembered his wake up call this morning with Dany telling him off for not keeping Drogo in check.

He looked him over and was impressed that there was not a trace of drinking on him. "So, Dany woke me up this morning."

Drogo leaned back as he laughed boomingly, his ponytail almost knocking out a guy behind him. He slapped Jon's back a little too hard then that if it weren't for all those long hours in basic army training he had, he'd have flown across the room.

Jon glared at him but Drogo just shrugged at him sheepishly. "The moon of my life is a woman of many words."

Just then we heard a girly voice. "Jon! Drogo!"

The two of them turned around and saw a short young woman with olive skin, dark curly hair and equally dark eyes. Sarella. She grinned when she finally reached them. "Hi."

"Hi Sarella."

Drogo, again, just nodded but at least he was smiling.

"Rhaenys told me you two would be here. I was just talking to Tyrion when his bitchy aunt Genna cut me off and shooed me away," she grumbled.

Dr. Genna Lannister was another famous Lannister, and like all Lannisters who were doctors, her field was neurologic as well. She was a Pediatric Neurologist and like most Pedia Neuros, she was a cutthroat bitch.

"Where are they now?"

Sarella's eyes brightened then. "Oh! I saw them going to the Research presentations from the Neurosurgery residents in Hall B." She eyed me then. "You should come, Jon. I saw your cousin's poster presentation, and she's one of the presenters - also the highly favored to win at that."

Cousin?

She noticed my confusion and exchanged a glance at Drogo who just shrugged at her. "Your cousin, Jon? Sansa Stark?"

Sansa - Sansa Stark...

She sighed impatiently. "You know. Tall. Very Pretty. Blue eyes. Red hair."

Oh.

"Seven hells, right, right. Of course. She's on her," Jon paused and did a mental math, "Fifth year?" How could I forget?

Sarella threw her hands up. "Finally! Yes. Honestly Jon, and to think that Rhaenys told me you were more Stark than Targaryen. You forgot your own cousin."

Jon felt a little guilty then. But among his Stark cousins, he wasn't particularly close to Sansa even though she was the only one who joined the medical field among them. He knew her as the pretty one or the doctor one. Between her attending boarding school at Highgarden and training at Oldtown, they really didn't get to meet each other often enough. Just a couple of times and mostly never went beyond polite greetings. Frankly, Jon didn't know how to talk to her.

"Come on, lets show our support!" Sarella all but linked one arm each with Jon and Drogo.

Drogo looked amused as Sarella, petite as she was, was leading two broody men to the hall.

Sansa.

Jon tried to remember the last time he saw her. And then he felt even more guilty when he remembered it was roughly nine years ago. But to his credit, he practically lived in the hospital ever since he started his residency and he was sure it was the same for Sansa. Residency meant missing family occasions, social gatherings - everything that entailed you have a life, basically.

He knew that, he swore he did. He knew she was on a neurosurgery residency at the Citadel Hospital. If there was one thing he remembered at the top of his head, it was this one because her entering the program drew attention. First because everyone assumed that she was going to Plastics with her delicate almost invisible stitching skills or maybe even Dermatologic Surgery for her natural beauty and genius-level IQ. But no. She wanted Neurosurgery. The "top of the totem pole" in the surgical elite - Jon rolled his eyes muttering 'god complexes' - but also the specialty that was sexist, continuing to be the most male-dominated field. Robb, her brother though, cleared that up after he told Jon that she was doing it for their brother Bran who was crippled at an early age after a freak accident near The Wall.

Nine years though.

July 2003

Jon was practicing his knot tying when he heard a frustrated huff from the table next to his on his right.

He looked to his side and saw a girl with red hair tied in one long braid, who was also practicing her knot tying - her brows were drawn together in concentration as she started undoing the knot she made - a clear indication that she did it wrong because a good knot was one that held but could easily be undone with one strategic pull or cut.

He looked around and he wasn't surprised that there were no other people who are practicing. After the morning session, most were still out for lunch. They were in a two-day basic suturing workshop at Ashford.

After another sigh, Jon worked up the courage to walk up to the girl who, from the looks of it, was definitely younger than him, but somehow was oddly familiar though he couldn't place her. He was lucky that he already mastered knot tying last year when he was still a second year medical student. But that took many frustrating moments such as what she was experiencing now. He was only able to master it because he looked for someone to teach him better and figured maybe that's what she needed too.

"Um, excuse me," he tried to smile through his nerves.

She looked up at him then and Jon saw the bluest eyes he's ever seen, rendering him mute for a moment.

Seven hells, a pretty girl. What am I doing?

But the girl blinked and looked at him as if she was trying to place him too but she didn't say anything and that was when he remembered that she was probably waiting for him to proceed.

Jon rubbed the back of his neck nervously and tried to smile. "Hi. I'm sorry. I - I, uh, doyouneedhelp?"

Her cheeks colored as she looked down, biting her lip, muttering an embarrassed and slightly defiant, "I'm good. Thanks."

Jon was tempted to go back to his seat but something pushed at him to keep talking to her. Struggling for words, he looked down instead to her knot tying kit and guessed where she was having trouble. On the dummy was one perfect square knot. His guess would be she was having problems with tying the second knot.

"One hand or two?" Jon tried again.

She reddened some more and sighed before looking up at him and admitting in a small voice. "Both actually."

Jon smiled kindly then. "The second knot is always the hardest. Especially if you have two left hands," he tried to joke. Cursing himself right after for how corny it was but her reaction encouraged him to continue.

A corner of her lips turned up and her eyes were warmer, never mind that there was a raised brow at that. "You know how to do it then?"

Jon nodded. "I know how to do it...I can teach you, if you want."

She smiled at him more genuinely then and motioned for the seat beside her.

Jon took his own set and placed it beside hers. "Okay, I'll show you how to do it first and then we'll do it together, sounds good?"

She nodded. "Sounds good."

"We'll start with one hand," he said as he started on tying the first knot. "Now for the second," he made the mistake of looking at her to see if she was watching and saw that indeed she was. She was watching alright, and watching very very closely, he could feel her breath on him.

Her eyes met his then and she frowned. "Why'd you stop? Go on."

Jon's neck turned pink and he swallowed before showing her how to do the second knot. "See? The trick is to know the position of the thumb. Wanna try it now?"

She nodded and quickly went to her own kit, while waiting for Jon to undo the knots. Step by step, Jon taught her while she mirrored perfectly on her own and after a couple of doing it on her own she beamed up at Jon.

"See? It wasn't that hard," Jon laughed nervously but felt some pride that he made her smile happily. She was a quick study, this student of his. He was right in thinking she just needed better instructions and to be honest - the instructions for this workshop was too complicated.

"Thank you," She grinned at him.

He blushed. "You're welcome. It's Jon by the way."

Her smile fell a little and Jon panicked.

She eyed him curiously before breaking into a smirk. "You don't remember me at all, do you? I mean, we met just once before but still."

Jon's eyes bulged and he wracked his brain but came up blank. He was sure he'd remember someone as beautiful as her.

She giggled then and arched a brow. "I'll give you a clue since you were kind enough to help me. My name is Sansa. Sansa...Stark." She grinned and Jon cursed.

"Fuck. Of course! Seven hells, you're one of Robb's little sisters." Red hair. Blue eyes. She could pass as Robb's twin and she looked like Aunt Catelyn. Was this really the prissy little girl in pigtails?

She giggled again. "Took you long enough. But to be fair to you, we never really 'met' met, did we?"

He smiled sheepishly. "I guess not, but still, I should've known. I'm sorry."

She chuckled. "It's okay. Between boarding school and starting right away at Citadel, I wasn't home much, more so with my parent's functions." She shrugged. "We're not allowed to have lives, remember?" She winked conspiratorially.

He laughed back and nodded. "We don't have lives so we can save yours, and all."

She blinked at him then and grinned. "I want that tattooed on my body!"

"Sorry, but I already got you beat on that," he winked.

She pouted.

"I'm kidding," Jon grinned.

"Then we'll get a matching set when we both pass the MLE. Do you promise?" She held up her pinky.

"That means I'd have to wait - When do you start med anyway?"

"I'll be a freshman come September,"  she said proudly.

His forehead crinkled. "Aren't you in college still?"

"I skipped two grades and I went for the straight program, just like you," she said smugly.

"Oh! So you're the Know-it-all-Stark!"

She smacked him then. "That's Bran but I'm pretty smart too."

He rubbed his arm. "Right. Sorry. First year huh? Isn't it too early to learn suturing?"

She raised a brow again and her smile fell. "Too early?"

Great, I insulted her. "I didn't mean it that way, I meant, I - they teach you that on your second year."

That seemed to placate her. "You're studying in Storm's End, right? So you're...a third year?"

"Incoming," I nodded.

"Any sage advice then?" she leaned closer.

Jon thought for a moment before answering with a smile. "Take as many vacations as you can. Better yet, don't waste anymore of this summer. After tomorrow, fly off somewhere - anywhere. Start medschool when you start medschool. Either way, no matter how hard you prepare, at the beginning, you know nothing."

Her forehead puckered. "Really?"

Jon regarded her, and remembered being as excited as she was when he was finally going to medschool but quickly got a dose of cold water over how very unglamorous it was. It was a sleep when you're dead situation every day. "Well...not to ruin your excitement and all but... I mean, I love it despite how hard it is but... I just - I would've appreciated it if someone told me how hard it really is, you know? Not put it up in a pedestal and such. Everywhere there is a hierarchy even in the smallest way. Fuck - I'm sorry. Don't listen to me, I'm just rambling," he tried to backpedal when he saw the light in her eyes dimming.

He stopped when he felt a hand on his arm. He looked up and Sansa was smiling at him warmly. "It's okay...Jon. I kind of get what you're saying. I mean, I had an idea it's going to be tough but I had no idea it's like that. I mean, I was only worried about lack of sleep and missing out on family occasions but that's not all I'm in for, is it?"

He examined her. "You want the whole truth?"

She looked at him pleadingly and felt a squeeze on his arm - a reminder that she hadn't taken off her hand from him then. "Please. I...I'm not exactly from a family of doctors. Well...you're my only hope as my only medical relative, it falls to you then."

Shit. Right. Both of us would be the first Stark to be doctors. Well, more her than me anyway. "Okay. Why don't we get lunch first?"

She started beaming at him then. "Sounds great - so you know all these stuff already?"

Jon nodded uneasily. "Uh, somewhat. I want to be a surgeon."

"Yay! That means you are the best teacher! I want to be a surgeon too. Teach me when I get stuck again?" She asked looking up at him hopefully.

"I'll do my best," Jon agreed. As if anyone can say no to that look. Was this what Robb was telling me about? Bambi eyes? Or was that his youngest brother?

Once she was comfortable enough, Sansa talked Jon's ear off halfway through their lunch at a nearby diner they went to and he did his best to keep up and true to his promise, gave her all the tips he could think of to help Sansa adjust once she starts formal medschool while Sansa soaked it all up and asked many questions and hung on to his every word.

Jon thought her smart and witty, a fast learner, and of course, stubborn like the rest of the Starks, but she was also very passionate.

As he watched her wave goodbye at him before driving off the following day, Jon thought that Sansa would be fine.

As long as she holds on to that passion, she'll be a great doctor.

Jon blinked back at the memory of that one summer he got to know Sansa a little bit and wondered why that was the last they saw each other in person. Well, last that they actually interacted face to face anyway.

Sure he got the occasional messages - mostly her asking him about some subjects and topics and yes, he'd check in on her - he was, after all, her only relative in the field and he took that role seriously, well at first.

At first because, their medical lives really did get in the way. He couldn't check on her as much as he could - he could barely even take care of himself!

And he really believed that she was doing more than well and would only need him on her first year tops and barely even. At most, they'd message each other on holidays and occasions, asking if one was as stuck as the other - wishing each other a happy hospital/school holiday. But that stopped too by Sansa's third year - Jon's internship year. And from then on, nothing from both ends.

Robb always talked about her proudly, especially Uncle Ned. I only heard good things about her, surely she was doing fine - more than fine. I heard she graduated from Citadel at the top of her class and she did get into their Neurosurgery program - one of the toughest to get into.

Surely, she'd still be the bright-eyed go-getter girl she met that summer right?

Jon couldn't be any more wrong.

The Sansa that he saw was no longer the slow to warm, shy at first girl with her long red braids, curious blue eyes, and always with a ready smile girl he met that summer - filled with dreams and brimming with excitement for starting those dreams.

The first thing that he noticed was the hair.

Her long wavy hair that curled at the ends and shone with the prettiest shade of red he's ever seen (yes even better than Ygritte's and gods knew how much he liked hers too) was now cut so short, the back looked cropped - shaved even and though the tips still curled, they barely went past her ears.

Jon couldn't understand why but seeing Sansa's hair like that really took him back. But he shook that off and tried to see - hoped to see if that was the only thing that she'd have to change. But it wasn't.

Her hair only made her features sharper, her high cheek bones were more pronounced, and higher - her eyes - her eyes that were so warm and honest before, looked impassive, cold and firm just like the rest of her.

She was sitting with all the poise of a queen with ankles tucked into each other at the side instead of legs crossed, and her hands were primly set on top of her lap while she kept her chin slightly lifted as she watched the current presenter silently.

The only sign of hope for the girl he met was that underneath her long white coat - a requirement for some residents to wear to presentations like these so they could show their hospital logos - she was wearing a dress the same color as her eyes.

"Wow, Jon. Your cousin is gorgeous!" Sarella elbowed me. "But... oh her hair! She had such beautiful long hair then but she can pull this  pixie cut too."

Jon nodded dumbly, unable to tear his eyes off of her. She was still beautiful. Even more to be honest. She'd be bald and still be beautiful. And Sarella noticed the change because she was three years Sansa's senior in Citadel U where she went too before going back to Dorne for her residency, he briefly remembered.

"Tough. She looks like she's ready to fight," Drogo added. "Fierce eyes."

I couldn't agree more. Jon nodded again. There was a toughness in her that screamed intimidation despite the cool and calm exterior.

And when she stood to take her turn at the stage, Jon started to understand quickly how the change came about.

A hush went over the crowd as she was introduced and remained while she walked towards the podium. She walked - no - almost floated so gracefully yet there was a confidence in her Jon hadn't seen before.

It was there that he heard the voices - all from guys while the moderator continued listing off Sansa's credentials.

"Oh she's up."

"Yes. The Ice Princess is next."

"More like frigid snob."

Jon's brow ticked and he was about to turn around and beat up whoever the voices belonged to when he felt a hand gripping his arm and saw Sarella shaking her head then giving the same look to Drogo whose jaw was clenched so tightly.

"I don't care how smart she is. I still don't think she's a good fit for the program," continued the airy voice. "There's only so far book-smart can get you. I mean, sure, she has skills yes, but if one has to work double time - give that much effort to do the job then maybe that extra effort would be better off in a...less critical field."

"He's only saying that because she was praised and he was scolded on one of Dr. Jaime Lannister's ORs they were both assisting in," the other voice pointed out.

A snort, probably from the arrogant one. "Please. Everyone knows he's only being sweet on her to get access to that ass."

Jon's jaw clenched while Sarella held back a disgusted sniff and Drogo was starting to get scarily silent more than usual.

"And now, he's just saying that because he tried and failed in tapping that ass too."

The assholes chuckled.

"I'm just saying that a woman is not cut out to belong in Neurosurgery."

"Shhhhhh!" Jon craned his neck at the direction of the angry shushing and saw a tall bearded guy with long red hair glaring at them. "Will you cunts shut up? We all came to listen to her not to you pricks gossiping like hens with cocks." A Northern accent. Jon smiled. Northern loyalty right there. He then glanced Jon's way and noted their tight expressions and glared back at the rude men. "Shut up, listen, and clap for your co-resident or get the fook out. Fooking cunts."

Who are you and can we shake your hand or give you a medal? Wait. Co-residents?

Jon looked behind then and saw that the seats two rows behind them were occupied by residents - Citadel Hospital Neurosurgery embroidered with the lighthouse logo on their coats. That only served to tick him off more.

Sansa was presenting for them! I mean, I knew neurosurgery was competitive as fuck but with each other and at home base at least! Not in fucking contests like these. Jon bristled.

Thanks to the redhead, they finally shut up and remained that way like good residents did when reprimanded by an attending and great timing too because Sansa was just about to start on her presentation. Still Jon couldn't get over it.

"Stop it," Sarella hissed. "It's just the jealousy talking - that and being threatened by a woman nonetheless," Sarella hissed in his ear. "Sexist pigs."

"Fine." Jon focused instead on the girl he thought to have a crush on that two-day summer they had and saw the woman she'd become the more he watched her speak.

"Good morning doctors. I'm here to present to you my research entitled: Invasive versus Non-invasive approach to treating CPSP or Central Post-stroke Pain, a Meta-analytic review..."

Jon couldn't believe the transformation. Sansa exuded a quiet confidence that was the right amount of pride and grace. Her presentation was clear, to the point, and though there were many technical stuff she discussed that he wasn't familiar with, she was able to present it in a way that anyone, no matter what specialty, could get unlike the first who didn't care about the audience as he kept dropping flashy jargons simply said to impress. Sansa didn't need any embellishments. Her topic alone was attention worthy. Neuropathic pain or nerve pain was the hardest pain to treat.

And this was also where Jon saw some of the old Sansa he met. When he realized that Sansa didn't just present a case to win, she was presenting a topic that she resonated with and something she wants to both educate and call more attention from for its importance and impact not just for her colleagues, but across the different specialties. It was the sincerity in her voice and the thorough research she put in that would win this for her and true enough, at the end of this event, she did.

As she received her certificate and the ten thousand dragon check for her department's choice of charity foundation, all three of them stood up and applauded her first before everyone else joined in.

Her eyes found Jon then and she grinned briefly before settling into a simpler and humbler close lipped smile.

She was still in there. Jon grinned in relief. They haven't transformed her truly yet.

He looked back to gloat at her less than supportive co-residents who were clapping either half-heartedly or just simply politely. Well, at least, half of them. Some were clapping more enthusiastically with actual pride in their eyes. There was hope for them too.

"She won. As if there was anyone else," Sarella said loudly while she nudged at me.

Jon puffed out his chest and agreed loudly too. "It was hardly a competition."

Drogo grinned wickedly directly at the residents.

"Now you see, you fooking greenboys. That's how it's done," came the redhead.

Drogo called him over and they grabbed each other's hands and pulled themselves together for the manliest hug Jon's ever seen. Somehow I'm not that surprised that they know each other.

"Drogo, you shite, how've you been? Heard you got yourself whipped by a woman," the redhead bellowed before taking note of Sarella. "So are you the woman who finally whipped the Khal's giant horse arse?"

Sarella only laughed and shook her head. "That's my aunt you're talking about and she does hold the whip for this one," she poked Drogo who didn't look one bit ashamed as he shrugged. Sarella offered her hand then. "Sarella Martell, by the way. Anes and Tox for Dorne." He shook her hand and introduced himself. "Tormund Giantsbane - don't ask. Trauma surg in Eastwatch Veterans." He leaned down then and whispered loudly while looking at Drogo. "And I'll only believe he's whipped when I see it," he winked, making her laugh and Drogo roll his eyes.

He then looked at Jon and offered his hand to him too. Jon took it and gave Tormund a firm shake. "Jon Snow. Trauma too, no affiliations yet."

"Ah. Fresh off the boards? Wanna consider taking it up North?"

Jon was about to say that he was in fact, looking to work in the Northern peninsula where he could be far away from being the political son in King's Landing - also, the same reasoning for changing his last name, when Sarella interrupted.

"He's also the cousin of the presenter you defended," she piped up.

Tormund grumbled then. "Couldn't let them get away with that. Where I'm from, women and men don't matter. As long as you can do the job, then by all  means, do it. Besides, Northerners stick together and I wasn't about to let them badmouth a fellow redhead." He then punched Drogo and Jon. "Just as we bearded men need to stick together."

Jon  winced a bit as Tormund belly laughed while Drogo raised his brows and crossed his arms before he looked at me. "Shouldn't you go to her?"

He reddened. "I - yes. Of course."

Sarella flashed a knowing smile at Jon that Tormund caught. "Why don't you go on ahead?" she suggested.

"Yeah, go try and steal her away from the horde," he grinned wickedly for someone Jon just met. "Little miss here needs to show me a picture of the woman whose got Drogo's balls in her hand."

Sarella's eyes lit up. "Ooh wait!"

Drogo gave Jon a knowing smirk before he whipped out his phone and showed Tormund pictures of Rhaego, his and Dany's two-year old son. "This is the Stallion that will mount the world," he said proudly.

"Good pecker on that one. Nice job, for Khal Drogo," Tormund looked up at Drogo impressed.

Shit, I didn't even ask about Rhaego and he's a cousin too. Wait - cousin. Right.

Jon scanned the hall and found her talking to his great-uncle Aemon who was a Neuropsychiatrist.

He gathered his courage and started walking over to them. It was his uncle who saw him first. "Ah, Sansa, have you met with my great-nephew, and if memory serves me correctly, your cousin?"

She turned around then and gave Jon a bright but shy smile. She's even prettier up close. "Jon," she said, his name a soft whisper on her lips.

Jon chuckled nervously. "Sansa, hey." Should I go for a hug? Wait, we haven't done that before, have we?

Sansa stepped closer but hesitated like Jon did before she finally went in for a brief hug. She smells great. Jon's first thought before remembering to hug her back. They pulled away quickly, looking at each other awkwardly with Sansa tucking her hair behind her ear twice and Jon rubbing at his neck.

Man up, Jon. "Congratulations, Sansa. You were great up there."

She smiled shyly. "Thank you Jon."

He cleared his throat. "You look great. I mean, how are you?" He cursed inwardly.

Sansa's corner lip quirked but she didn't call him out. "Thanks and oh you know. Alive and surviving," she lifted a shoulder yet Jon caught something briefly in her eyes but before he could say anything, she shifted the topic to him. "I however am unforgivably late with my congratulations. I saw you in the top ten for your specialty boards. Congratulations, Jon." She reached up and gave Jon a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling away and giving an apologetic smile.  "Forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive," he immediately answered.

She pouted. "Well, forgive me for not keeping contact since - it's been too long and I've been rude."

He shook his head. "It's okay, for that I'm equally to blame. But how are you - really? You're almost at the finish line."

She blinked then and tried to give a too bright smile. "It won't be long now, yes."

We heard a cough behind us and to Jon's horror he forgot his great-uncle was still there and Sansa looked equally ashamed too. "So I take it you've met then."

"Of course. Jon helped me adjust for my first year in med school and he taught me how to stitch my first suture," she recovered quickly while Jon shifted uneasy with praise.

"I hardly helped. She would've done great with or without me," he shrugged.

Sansa was about to protest when we saw her co-residents approaching. Immediately, Sansa's demeanor shifted.

Her back stiffened and her face smoothened into her neutral mask.

There were five of them, all with closely cropped or completely shaven heads that was the signature of most neurosurgery residents across most programs - a sign of solidarity for their patients that they'd have to shave as part of the OR preparations as they say, but really it was just one more form of soft hazing. It didn't apply to female residents but Jon guessed Sansa parted with her long locks to prove a point. One of them was always flanked, moving ahead of their assembly like geese in the air - another show of hierarchy.

That one, had unfeeling violet eyes he trained at Sansa. "Congratulations, Dr. Stark," he managed but Jon couldn't see the sincerity and he also recognized that voice as being the arrogant one. Finally a face for the voice.

Sansa gave a nod and a small smile. "Thank you Dr. Dayne." Finally a name for the face.

She then turned to Jon and Dr. Aemon and introduced them. "Dr. Aemon, Jon, these are my seniors. This is Dr. Gerold Dayne, our chief resident," she motioned to the leader. "And this is Dr. Humfrey Hightower the deputy chief, Dr. Lyman Darry, and Dr. Horas Redwyne. Doctors, of course, you know Dr. Aemon. And this is Dr. Jon T-Jon Snow, Trauma Surgeon and my cousin." She almost slipped on Jon's name but it touched him all the same that even without communication, she was updated making him feel doubly guilty.

They of course, greeted Dr. Aemon readily and only politely regarded Jon who didn't really mind. Dr. Aemon excused himself and that was when Dr. Dayne started on Sansa.

"I hope I wasn't interrupting anything important, but I have need of you Dr. Stark," he raised a brow at her and Jon once again felt his brow twitching.

"Of course, Dr. Dayne," she nodded at him and shot me the subtlest apologetic look. "I - " she started.

Jon cut her off and smiled kindly. "Go. I'll see you around later or tomorrow. Sarella and Drogo said to say congratulations too but they're busy over there."

She looked where I pointed and for a moment Jon could see the look of longing in her eyes but was quickly gone when her seniors started leaving. With a final wave and a quick smile, she went and followed them. "Tell them thanks and I hope to see them too."  

"I will." There wasn't much Jon could do. It was an unfair world but Sansa had to follow an order from her senior.

Groveling, kissing ass, humiliation, unfair hours, and underpaid work - that was residency.

There were stages and there were steps in medical hierarchy. It gets better eventually on the way up but the way up is often dark and full of terrors.

There was nothing to do but just stick it out because like all ladders, eventually you get to the top.

Jon found Sansa later that night at the rooftop.

The rooftop of the Regency as converted to a VIP rooftop bar which was open for the delegates these two nights though they closed the bar at exactly midnight. By quarter, the staff would lead the guests down the VIP lounge instead where it was open all day and night citing that it was unseemly to catch guests falling asleep or getting drunk at the rooftop - safety reasons as well as snobbish pursuits. But guests may still stay as long as they are not inebriated and remain awake.

Drogo, Tormund, and Sarella went ahead while Jon chose to stay and enjoyed the quiet.

It was half past one and he was leaning on a rail, puffing on a cigarette while he watched the view of the still lit docks of Lannisport they could still see from this high up the Rock.

He thought he was alone when he saw a flash of red from the shadows.

He snuffed out his stick and threw it before walking over to investigate and almost jumped when he saw it was Sansa.

She had her back to him while she sat on top of her coat on the floor, still in her dress with her legs pressed together and tucked to the side, typing away on her laptop while she leaned against the wall.

"Sansa?"

She jumped - almost dropping her laptop but she failed in catching the glasses she was wearing when she surged forward. She recovered quickly while I crouched down, picked up her glasses that I've never seen her wear before, and handed it to her.

"Jon!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm as surprised as you are," offering her glasses once more.

Even in the dark Jon could tell she was blushing. She took the glasses from him and wore it back but she didn't look up at him muttering an embarrassed thanks.

Jon thought she looked cute with her silver frames. He bet it made her eyes looked bigger, if only she'd look at him.

"Working late, I see," Jon said before sitting down next to her.

"Yes - but, oh Jon, you don't have to sit down. You'll get your pants dirty!" she frowned.

Jon chuckled. "Says the girl sitting on her white coat."

She pressed her palms to her forehead, dislodging her glasses a bit. "I know. It's gross but can I get a pass tonight?" she tried to say cheerfully but Jon could tell she was exhausted.

"Anytime. Why aren't you in your room?"

She frowned again. "My bosses are on the same floor and I need the peace and quiet or I'll never finish," she sighed.

"What floor is that?"

"45th."

"Mine is at the 50th. You're welcome to stay there."

Sansa gave him a wry smile. "At least buy me dinner first."

It was Jon's turn to flush not realizing how he sounded. "I didn't mean - I

Sansa waved him off and chuckled. "A joke, Jon. I am still capable of it."

Jon ran a hand down his face and shook his head. "You're mean and here I was doing a -

Sansa cut him off with a kiss to his cheek. "Sorry. Thanks for the offer Jon, but I'm good here. I'm actually just polishing the report I have to hand over bright and early today," she rolled her eyes.

"Sorry," Jon could only offer.

She shrugged. "S'not you're fault. It's whoever invented hierarchy," she shivered and that was when Jon noticed that she was just in a short sleeved dress that only came down to just a little below her knees. It was a little longer than what he usually saw women wear but it only made Sansa look even more lady-like which suited her just as well in Jon's opinion.  

He didn't ask just took off his coat and handed it to her wordlessly.

When she tried to protest, he raised his brow in challenge while she shivered again, causing her to bite her lip and accept it graciously.

While she shrugged it on, he walked over to the bar area and took a table cloth - the cleanest one and when he went back, he draped it over her legs before settling back beside her.

Sansa looked at him gratefully then. "Thanks Jon." She reached out and gave his arm a squeeze - like she did years ago. He smiled at her fondly then.

She dropped her smile. "You should head back and sleep."

"So should you."

She sighed. "I want to but I really need to finish this."

"Anything I can help with?"

"Do you know anything about deep nerve electrostimulation for sheep versus monkeys?"

"Uh..."

Sansa quirked her lip. "Thought so. Go on, seriously, I'll be okay. I promise I won't tell Robb you left me alone if that's what you're concerned with."

"Didn't think about him. Though that is a good reason to keep staying with you, threat of your brother and the whole Northern army," he grinned.

She sighed. "Fine, suit yourself. I might take another hour."

"Go ahead, take your time. I don't mind. it's nice up here. 60th floor and all."

"I won't be chatty until I finish," she warned.

"Shutting up now," Jon made a show of zipping his lips causing Sansa to laugh once before shaking her head and retrieving her laptop.

Jon tried not to watch her as she worked, briefly contemplating if he should get her something warm to drink since she was going to be stubborn about this.

Eventually after ten minutes, he excused himself to do just that, only earning a half-committed nod.

He came back up after fifteen minutes with two styrofoam cups filled with hot water and a takeaway bag filled with tea packets, condiments, and lemon bars (they were the only ones good to go) he bought from the lounge.

Sansa looked up at him surprised and adorable looking in his too-large coat and those damn glasses.

Jon sat beside her and pushed the bag of lemon bars at her while he took out the tea stuff. "Are you an Earl Grey or a Chamomile person?"

Sansa still looked at him stunned and possibly close to tears that Jon almost panicked. He didn't know a thing about comforting a woman in tears. He coughed and repeated his question.

Sansa looked down and played with the lid of the bag she was still holding, blushing. "E-earl Grey."

"Ear Grey it is," He started making her tea and was about to ask if she took it with sugar or honey when he saw her looking inside the bag with tears silently pouring down her face.

"S-Sansa what - "

Sansa quickly wiped her face but failed to stop the tears. She tried to smile wanly. "Sorry Jon...I don't know what came over me - it's just... it's lemon bars. I love lemon bars."

She started wiping at her face more furiously then looking annoyed at herself. "Ugh. Sorry. I'm okay, I promise. I just - I'm fine - this is stupid."

Jon understood what she's going through. She was tired, she was overworked and likely faced one form of humiliation today despite her win and now someone was being nice to her. He's been there too. Any kindness, no matter how small felt like water in a desert.

So he stopped what he was doing and crouched in front of her, gently taking her glasses off, setting them safely, then he took her hands in his before bringing her to his chest slowly, wordlessly just holding her still. Experience taught him that rubbing the back or stroking the hair only brought more hysterical tears - more less words.

Sansa stiffened at first until finally she relaxed and crumpled into his chest, just the touch of her cheek to his collar and nothing else.

This kind of crying, he knew well. It was the frustrated and tired one. It didn't need the sobbing or the hiccupping - that'll only tire you out more.

Sometimes, you just needed a good cry - just the right amount of silent tears to release some of the tension. Just enough to calm down.

After a solid five minutes, Sansa raised her head, wiped her eyes one last time and took a deep breath.

Jon released her slowly and gently but kept close in case she needed another minute. "Better?" he risked.

She smiled at him then and nodded. "Yes," she laughed nervously. "Thanks Jon. I needed that. Sorry I ruined your shirt."

Jon just shrugged. "A small sacrifice you can make up to me once you become rich and famous. My small contribution to your future success."

She laughed again, for real this time. "I'll add that to the list."

"You do that," Jon smiled. "So, ready to get back to work?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Good," he reached out and placed her glasses on her. "So. Sugar? honey?"

Sansa blushed and Jon almost did too at her reaction but he managed a smirk. "For your tea."

"Oh. Just h-honey," he heard her utter a tiny fuck that he'll let slip now.

"Honey, it is," he teased while he added it to her tea.

"You're mean."

"Sorry. Tea for apology?" He handed her the cup.

"Thanks. Apology accepted. How'd you know about the lemon bars?"

"Honestly, they were the only ones I could get fast. A lucky move then," Jon admitted sheepishly.

"Well, according to the Alchemist, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you achieve it. It must be my lucky break," she grinned while taking a bite.

Or mine. Jon thought and was quickly embarrassed for even thinking it.

What followed was companionable silence as Sansa worked. Before Jon knew it, he had dozed off.

He woke an hour and a half after with a light shake from Sansa. For a moment he forgot where he was but then he quickly adjusted when he felt his back.

"Hey, sorry to wake you but I'm actually done," she was whispering and cradling her laptop, her coat was draped in one arm, while a hand stayed on hid shoulder and from this angle he was able to take her all in better.  

Jon just blinked, too caught up in her eyes that looked midnight blue in the dark.

She bit her lip and looked apologetic. "Sorry to wake you from what I saw was a peaceful sleep but you'd probably be more comfortable in your bed than here."

Jon snapped out of it and rubbed his eyes while he stood up. "You're right. Are you really done?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yup. All done and I even cleaned up too."

Jon frowned as he took in everything. "You didn't have to do that."

She rolled her eyes. "Too late. Come on, let's get back."

They started walking back when Sansa stopped for a moment.

"What is it?"

She blinked and smiled again. "Nothing. You go back ahead. I think...I want to look at the port for a little while. I'll follow and sleep, I promise."

Jon eyed her then before holding out his hand.

Sansa looked at it and then his eyes confused.

He changed and offered his arm instead. "Come on. Let's look at the view for a moment."

Likely knowing Jon won't give up, she just smiled wider and held on to his offered arm and followed when he lead her to the view he was looking at earlier.

After watching the water break against the rocks below Sansa wrapped her arms around Jon. "Thanks for tonight, Jon. It's been a while since I've been treated like a human being."

Jon returned her hug. "Sure. Though you won't be thanking me for the many times I wanted to punch your chief today."

She looked up at him then and frowned. "You heard him and the others say nasty things about me."

"Sexist pigs," he spat Sarella's earlier comment.

Sansa chuckled then. "They're just threatened by me."

"The seven hells they should. You're brilliant and tough. Drogo thinks so too."

She grinned. "Yeah?"

"Fierce eyes, I quote."

She grinned.

"It's tough and unfair, but I have faith in you," Jon tucked a strand of her short hair, feeling mad again that she had to cut it just to prove a point.

Sansa noticed but let it slip, closing her eyes instead at the feel of Jon's fingers. "I know. I'm pretty tough too."

Jon chuckled. "I know. I was almost afraid that they've transformed you for good."

She tilted her head then. "Almost?"

"For one, you're still wearing the most lady-like dress ever, and another was your passion resonating with your research presentation," he ended with a shrug.

Sansa shook her head. "The passion, yes. I do love it - every little thing about this even the times I want to kill myself or murder them instead because why should I die when they should instead moments."

"You would've covered that up easy."

"But the dress? Really Jon?"

"Uh, I figured that was another way to prove a point. That they may take away your hair and call you mean things just because you're a woman in their sick man's world they've built up, but you showed them that you can do their jobs better in a skirt and heels too," he said proudly. "That and the fact that you're two years their junior to boot."

"Wow."

"Well, wow to you first. And I'm really glad you didn't transform into a heartless gunner," he said lightly but his eyes were sincere.

"Well the summer before freshman year of med, an incoming junior taught me more than just sewing sutures and tying knots. He told me that entering the medical world was going to be tough and unfair that I must be tougher but fairer and it stuck to me all these years," she eyed Jon impishly.

Jon couldn't hide an embarrassed grin. "Wise friend."

"Mhm," Sansa nodded. "But really, the true lesson was that, he showed me what truly made a difference between a good doctor from the rest."

"And what's that?"

Sansa took his hand and and squeezed. "Kindness," she said so softly.

Jon just looked at her with his mouth open, clearly not expecting that.

Sansa started tugging at his hand. "I'm beat. Come on."

Jon shook his head, and followed, with his heart impossibly full, and a smile he couldn't wipe off from the compliment.

Kindness.

He does know some things after all.

Day 2

When Jon woke up he decided to take a risk and ask her out when the opportunity comes within the day.

He felt that something that summer years ago but thought it was more on her adoring her excitement and zest for medicine. He figured this time, he won't wait nine years to realize it and give it a go.

But unfortunately for him, the opportunity never came.

Jon didn't see her all day and he finally found out where she was from Sarella when he met up with her in the afternoon sessions.

"Sorry Jon. I saw her earlier and she told me that she had to fly back to Oldtown right away according to the shithead boss of hers. No wonder the Daynes all but cut him off the family. Her boyfriend picked her up though and they rode his family's private jet. But before she left, she asked to give this to you," she pushed a small box at Jon's hands before he could process what she was saying.

He broke it down.

One, Sansa was on a flight back to Oldtown.

Two, she was flying with her boyfriend on her boyfriend's family's jet. How did he miss that?

And lastly, there was something in his hand.

"I don't - boyfriend?"

Sarella's eyes narrowed before widening with realization. "Oh shit."

Jon looked to her for answers.

She took his arm and sat him down. "Okay, calm down. Relax."

He didn't.

She rolled her eyes and gave up. "Apparently, it's still new. He works at Citadel Hospital too. He's Dr. Willas Tyrell, one of the Radiologists. I called my dad after I recognized him when Sansa introduced us quickly." Oberyn Martell was also an Anesthesiologist as well as an Acupuncturist among other things and he was friends with Garlan Tyrell, Willas's older brother. Jon tried to absorb as Sarella explained. "Dad said that Garlan was happy that his younger brother was finally dating."

Jon's heart dropped. "Is he...is he decent?" He didn't bother to ask about looks because he knew the Tyrells were generally good looking.

Sarella smiled sadly. "He's smart, charming, handsome, well-mannered, and kind."

Kind.

Jon felt crushed.

"But it's all still new like it's only been a month and they hardly go out with her schedule. They're probably still getting to know each other - "

But all Jon heard was kind. If he was truly kind, then it won't take long at all.

I was nine years too late.

Jon stood up then and sighed, before mustering up a smile and thanking Sarella.

"Wait! Before you go broody, she did leave you something," she pointed to the box I was still clutching.

Jon opened it then and inside was a note and something wrapped in a golden tissue-like paper.

He read the note first.

Jon,

I can't thank you enough for more than tonight. I won't forget it just as I never forgot the kind guy who took pity on me when I couldn't tie my knots. You taught me more than that though, if you recall. You told me that the sign of a good knot was for

1) how it held firmly and

2) how it could be undone by just one strategic pull only the surgeon who made it knows as well as the teacher who taught it

I didn't tell you but I kept the tie I used and stole yours when you weren't looking ;)

Now I'm giving it back attached to something that would always remind me of your knot pulling last night. (I used two handed knot tying!)

Good luck with your next step Jon! Sorry I had to go again.

Until the next time we meet then (Under better circumstances I hope)

Sansa

Jon unwrapped the other gift and held it up.

He smiled when he saw a golden replica keychain of the hotel with the blue practice tie, knotted in a perfect surgical knot twice on the chain.

"See? There's hope still. They're not married yet," Sarella grinned.

Jon rolled his eyes and shushed her when Dr. Tyrion Lannister started talking.

"Okay. Last session for this course, I hope you are still awake and alive. I shall try to make this as short and as entertaining as I can. In short, all my visual aids will be anatomically perfect for everyone and I've spiked the next batch of coffee," he grinned. "Alright, I have your attention now? Well if not at least even before I speak my topic I already have your money in my pocket so we're all good here."

Laughter.

"Let me start with a favorite anecdote especially since I see a lot of residents from all over here with eyebags darker than the balls of an elephant and I could pick out the fresh board passers from the crowd easy as pie. Okay, are you ready?"

Ars longa,

vita brevis,

occasio praceps,

experimentum periculosum,

lucidum difficile

"Hippocrates, our father of Medicine said, 'The art is long, life is short, opportunity fleeting, experiment dangerous, and judgment difficult.'" He paused. "It's a tough challenge, we chose to pursue for a living. And it never ends for we keep on learning. It's hard, and more often than not, as much as we want to save lives, we want to kill our fellow doctors just as much too," he paused again but this time from the laughter that erupted from the crowd.

He raised his hand for silence before he continued. "But in the end, it's still the life we chose and thus we have no choice but to keep on living it for as long as we can. We have failures, we have triumphs, but most of all we keep on trying. But also remember, not to forget the third line. 'Occasio praceps.'

"Some opportunities come once in a lifetime. In the occasion that you miss it once, and it presents itself again, don't be a dumbass and grab it by the balls, tie it up, and never let go."

Jon swallowed and clutched the keychain in his pocket.

"Now then, I can begin."

As Dr. Tyrion went on his lecture, Jon was only half-listening.

As much as he wants Sansa happy and he truly does even if it's with someone else, he'll still hold on and hope.

They were still young.

They still had time.

"Art is long, after all," he muttered as he glanced down at the knot Sansa gave him.

#jonsa #fanfiction #jon snow #Sansa Stark #jon snow x sansa stark #fanfic #doctors AU #modern westeros #ladymdfic

[ladywolfmd]

Saving Jon Snow & Other Extreme Sports

As part of my self-therapy for Season Seven Hells and the under appreciation of Sansa Stark, I started a series of one-shot modern AUs where Sansa rescues Jon Snow’s arse over several different scenarios. Writing Badass Sansa/Damsel Jon is more cathartic than anything, truly! If you want to join my fun, I’ve taken prompts after the second one. So far I wrote three:

“You can take my breath away” - After Jon’s jet-ski hits a rock, Lifeguard Sansa dives in and rescues him. 

“What if I fall? (I won’t let you fall)” - Jon is an Alpine Climber, gets trapped in a mountain and gets rescued by Direwolves Search & Rescue Captain Sansa

“We’ve got a thing that’s called radar love” - Jon is a professional race car driver/Prime Minister Son who almost gets kidnapped but is saved by his PA Sansa who is secretly his bodyguard. 

From the prompts, so far some have requested Firefighter Sansa, CIA Sansa, Paramedic/EMT Sansa, Surgeon Sansa. But I’m still willing to take on more ideas just that it must of course, have Sansa saving Jon and include an extreme sport or something close to it. I really didn’t expect the reception in Ao3 and the first one is actually crack-ish but it’s serving my mental health and am happy to share the joy with others who like it. :) 

#saving jon snow and other extreme sports #bad ass Sansa #damsel Jon #jon snow x sansa stark #jonsa #fanfic #jonsa fanfiction #jon snow #sansa stark #fanfiction #ladymdfic

[ladywolfmd]

What if I fall? (I won’t let you fall)

So I just watched Eastwatch and I can't concentrate on my WIPs because I felt the need to write another Sansa Stark saves Jon Snow's ass. So here we are. Thanks for those who liked Lifeguard Sansa! Here's another one for you. I hope you like it! Say it with me fam, "They can have the boat, we've got the ship."

The title is from Keith Urban's song "The Fighter"

Summary: Jon has been an Alpine climber for years, and together with his climbing partner, Tormund, they set out to hike the Northern Mountains. All was well until an accident causes his harness to snap and both of them gets stuck in a narrow ridge. But all is well when Direwolves Search & Rescue swoops in to save the day.

You can read it in AO3 too: 

"Snow?! You a'right? Snow? Wake up you bastard!"

Jon groaned and tried to blink away the fog in his vision, his head throbbing like crazy.

He could make out his friend's red hair and beard and saw that his mouth was moving but his words barely registered from above the ringing in his ears.

When he could finally see Tormund clearly, he focused his eyes to meet his frantic gaze and fought to give him a reassuring smile that he was sure came out more like a grimace.

Tormund heaved a sigh of relief before glaring down at him. "You fucking cunt! Tryna' be a hero--You're old man will fucking have me head if you fucking fall of this piss mountain. Why did you cut your lifeline? You idiot fuck!"

"A thank you would suffice," Jon tried to joke through gritted teeth.

Tormund looked about ready to cry or punch him. "What hurts most?"

Jon tried to move as little as possible and as slow as he could and found that while everything ached, the moment he moved his left shoulder and left leg he felt sharp pains that made him cry out. "Left," he grunted. "Shoulder feels broken but maybe my leg's just bruised? It hurts like the seven hells but I think I can move it."

"Well, enough moving. We don't know about your back for sure."

Jon kept his head straight though he didn't feel pain on his neck while he heard Tormund dump things beside him.

"Here, don't move Snow," Jon felt Tormund place a rolled blanket and maybe a folded shirt or garment on either side of his head to steady him before he prodded Jon's shoulder carefully. When he pressed, Jon gave a strangled cry.

"Broken," was all he heard before Jon felt snow being packed on his shoulder that helped somewhat while his companion checked the rest of him.

"You lucky fuck. Your shoulder is banged up but the rest of you I'd say would just be red and purple and hurt like shit for days but you'll live. I'll try the radio but don't sleep or I'll bloody wank your small pecker to wake you up so help me Jon Snow," without waiting for his reply, he heard Tormund walk away.

Jon kept his eyes from closing too much knowing that he really did have to try and keep awake in case he has a concussion or he dies of frostbite. They were all bundled up of course and this wasn't the first time they scaled the Northern Mountains but it was a first time they had an accident. He however knew enough that with his condition, slipping away in to the cold was easy.

While he waited for Tormund as he tried over and over to contact someone using their emergency two-way, flashbacks of what happened came back to him.

One minute they were nearing the checkpoint, the next they were plummeting down when Tormund's anchor gave out and his expert friend was barely able to stab his axe to keep both of them up.

Jon had to cut off and drop his bags and equipment to lessen the weight. But when he saw that they were still too heavy and there was no other way, with one last look, he cut off his tether with a prayer despite the screaming of his friend.

He knew he had almost zero chance of survival but he felt it anyway, how his shoulder cracked when he landed on it and the pain was too much that it left him unconscious.

"Mayday. Mayday. Mayday." he heard Tormund followed by static.

It took several tries but finally their signal was picked up.

"Copy. This is Summer from rescue. what's your emergency? Do you read me? Over."

"Affirmative. I copy. Me and my mate's anchor failed and we slipped. My mate, took the fall, landed on his side. Banged up shoulder and possible swollen sides. Might've hit his head too. I was able to scale down after him. Over."

"Copy that. What's your 20? Over."

"We were nearing the Wull's eight checkpoint when we dropped. Narrow ridge between 2nd and fifth. Got a red flag up. Do you read? Over."

"Copy. Stand-by for our dispatch. Names and how long ago was it? Over."

"Fifteen minutes. Tormund Giantsbane and Jon Snow. Over."

"Copy that. Tormund, did you give first aid? Over."

"Affirmative. We'll stand-by. Over."

"Roger that. Keep Jon awake and stabilized. Help is on the way. Light a flare once you hear a chopper. This is Summer again from Direwolf Rescue. Look for the Wolf. Keep us posted. Over."

"Roger. Thanks Summer. Tormund, over and out."

Jon saw Tormund lean down on him as he struggled to blink himself awake. "Help is on the way, Snow. Hold on."

"Did I hear right? Look for the wolf?" he gritted out.

"Har! You know here in the North and them wolves. It makes bloody sense they'd name their rescue after 'em. How's your head?"

Jon heaved a breath. His head was faintly throbbing but otherwise, he didn't feel nauseated or anything serious. He was just in too much pain that he wanted nothing but to give in and pass out. "Pain's too great in my shoulder."

He felt more cold being packed around his shoulder then and handed him a lozenge. "Here, open your mouth and I'll put this under your tongue. But don't sleep on me."

Jon obeyed and let the analgesic melt under his tongue and after a few seconds his pain was dulling a bit. He waited until Tormund looked at him to give a smirk. "First time for everything?"

But Tormund just glared at him. "You don't know how much I want to kick your arse, Snow."

Jon chuckled and winced at the pain on his side. "You need to go back, Giantsbane. Or Brienne will murder me."

Tormund broke out a smile. "That woman or my daughters."

"See?"

Tormund sighed. "Thanks mate. I owe you me life."

"Does that mean you'll call your next born after me now?"

"If it's a daughter, you bet your arse," Tormund guffawed while Jon couldn't help but laugh as much as he could.

After ten minutes they heard the sound of helicopter blades approaching.

Jon wanted to turn his head and see but he kept still while he heard Tormund get up and shot the flare gun.

Jon heard the chopper getting closer and felt the wind whipping from its blades over him and after a few seconds, he heard someone drop down beside them.

"Hello. Summer sent us. Are you Tormund?"

A girl.

"Aye. This one's Jon."

While Tormund explained what happened, the girl from Direwolf Rescue leaned over him and despite her shielded helmet, he could make out blue eyes.

"Hey. I'm Sansa. Can you tell me your name?" her voice sounded pleasant.

"Jon," he gritted out."

"Okay, Jon? Do you know where you are? What day it is?"

Jon answered completely knowing this was part of protocol for possible head injuries. He went on to say that while his head did throb it was more from the searing pain of his side and shoulder.

Once Sansa was satisfied that he wasn't in any immediate danger after examining and questioning him some more, he heard static from the radio attached to her helmet. "Lady to Meria, do you read? Over."

"This is Meria. I copy. Situation? Over."

"One is good to go, the other we'll need to lift. One of you can get 'Vee-one' while I stand-by with 'Vee-two' over."

"Roger that. Bull's coming down. Over."

"Tormund, after my friend and I secure Jon, you'll be strapped in and my team will pull you up first. Unfortunately, we won't all fit in the chopper because what we had was the only one available for dispatch. My brother will fly you over first and then come back for me and your friend," Jon heard Sansa say.

"Why don't you take him first?"

"It's getting dark and the winds are picking up and before you know it, winter is here. It'll be faster if we get you out first while I secure your friend."

"Okay. Best get to it then."

He heard another voice and footsteps approaching. "I'm Gendry. I'll be strapping you in a bit. Sans, l'm here."

Jon saw Sansa lean over him again.

"Okay, you're doing so well, Jon. I'm just going to secure your neck and check everything else after. You might feel pain or discomfort but I'll need you to keep still. Can you do that for me, Jon?" she asked so soothingly that Jon said yes right away.

He heard her zipping open her bag and getting things out of it. He wasn't prepared for what he saw next.

Sansa took off her helmet and he could see the full brightness of her blue eyes that were fixed and concentrated with her task. Her face was breathtaking and she had the brightest red hair that looked silkily long despite being up in a ponytail with some strands loose and wisping about her face from the wind but before he could admire her more, a big bulky guy with the same helmet but he could see had blue eyes too, loomed over him.

"Jon this is Gendry. He'll help you too."

Jon managed a grunt in response.

"Gendry, I'll need you to keep his head steady this while I slip it on, okay?" He saw her address Gendry before turning back to him. "Jon? I'm going to put a C-collar on your neck now, okay?"

He grunted again and tried to keep his heart calm when she gave him a little smile before she reached down beside her and he felt two large hands on either side of his head.

Jon's heart started skipping when the next thing he could see was the direwolf logo on her chest, stitched to her royal blue and grey jacket uniform as she leaned over him.

He tried not to stare at the visible swell despite the insulation padding but the straps and belts of her harness cinched above and below her chest enough to preview the slender shape she probably had underneath so he closed his eyes instead.

He focused instead on keeping still while he felt the collar gently sliding underneath his neck but his eyes flew open when he felt a strong and firm hold above his throat and the gorgeous redhead loomed over him again, her hands crossing while she started securing the straps.

She must've noticed him staring as her blue eyes met his again and she gave another smile. "All done for that part. We're going to move you to a stretcher now. You just need to keep still for me a little more, Jon. You're doing very good," she reassured. "We'll give you something for the pain in a bit. Hold on."

Before he could thank her, Sansa called Tormund over. "Tormund, d'you mind helping us transfer Jon?"

"I'll help."

Jon meanwhile, couldn't help but be transfixed with Sansa's polite but level tone as she directed Tormund and Gendry. Tormund was going to secure his head while Gendry would pull Jon towards him as Sansa would roll in the spine board beneath him.

"Okay, on three. One. Two. Three."

Jon grunted again as he was hauled quickly and gently towards the burly man and placed back just so on the board at once where he couldn't help but let out a gasp.

"I'll take it from here. Go get Tormund out and hurry back."

"Are you sure? I can stay with him instead."

Jon felt the sudden urge to pray that Sansa would say no.

"Go. Arya will need you to help her haul us up."

"Okay."

Jon almost smiled and to his luck Tormund caught that and arched a brow at him.

"Well, best leave these two alone. She'll make pretty company for him anyway," he threw out with a laugh that Jon reddened and glared at him.

He heard the static of the radio once more.

"Lady to Meria. Bull's coming up with Vee-one. Vee-two secured. Do you read? Over."

"This is Grey and I copy. Meria is dropping the line. Flying closer now, over." came a new voice that was clearly male.

"Roger. Will be on stand-by with Vee-two. Lady, over and out."

He saw Tormund again. "Well Snow. The lad said it might take half an hour to pick you two up. Best make the most of 'em, ey?"

"Fuck off Tormund."

He laughed. "See you later, Snow."

He heard the whirr of the chopper blades and the roar of the motors getting louder along with the rustling of probably Tormund and the Gendry fellow. And after a few minutes, the sounds grew fainter until it disappeared.

"It's just you and me now," Sansa came beside him and grinned and that was all it took to make his heart stop again.

"So...I don't think you guys look like inexperienced climbers," she started and Jon had to look away from her pretty eyes. "Oh sorry, wait. Try not to talk too much. I'm just going to continue strapping you in. You can just answer yes or no so let me rephrase. You guys climbed before?"

"Yes." He closed his eyes and tried to relax as she worked over him, securing head first before immobilizing his shoulder and then strapping him more securely on the board, trying hard not to be affected by her proximity and the fact that they were isolated on a frozen ridge in the middle of a mountain.

Or that he was being...strapped in here and there by the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

Beautiful and brave.

She was fastening the straps below his knees and the sudden contact of her hand on the cap caused him to jerk it up.

"Whoah, no bending! Sorry. Should've warned you. But if that's any indication, I am now eighty-five percent sure you do not have spinal injury," she smiled cheerfully when she went back up to meet his eyes.

"Then I can speak more freely?"

She cracked a smile and chuckled. "I'm pretty sure you can. But I won't remove the straps, you know that right?"

"I don't have much of a choice, anyway," he tried to smile but ended up groaning from his shoulder again.

"Your friend gave you a sublingual but I guess it's wearing off now. Tell you what. If it gets to be too much after fifteen minutes, I'll give you another one. But in the meantime..."

Jon gasped when he felt her hand in his left one where she squeezed lightly. His eyes shot to hers and saw that she was smiling kindly and blinked once before widening her smile. "You can keep squeezing my hand whenever you feel the throb. It's fine. I'm not going anywhere."

He felt like melting then. "Thank you for saving me-us."

Her lips twitched and he could feel his ears warming. Thank the gods they're covered now.

"All in a day's work." She frowned then and Jon wanted to demand right away why but she trained an apologetic look at him, biting her lip before speaking. "Sorry. We would've sent a bigger party but there's been a major accident at The Wall. My small team was all that's available."

"What happened there?"

Her brows shot up as she shook her head in disbelief. "Madness. Fire broke out on the woods where a music festival of sorts was happening. You'd think people would know about proper use of fire in an open field but no, the celebrity wanted pyrotechnics. Saying there was snow everywhere anyway. People some times," she shrugged.

Jon tried to think if he heard about any music festival happening but he came out blank. "Anyway, thanks for coming to our rescue still."

She looked at him again and half-smiled. "Oh of course. My team's main priority is search and rescue. We're the Alpha team in charge for that for Direwolves Rescue. My younger brother Bran was the one who picked up your transmission though you know him by his handle as Summer. He's in charge of Tower duty we call Wolf Den One."

"Oh. That's nice. Working with family," he tried not to smile bitterly. He had half-siblings but he and them mixed more like oil and water when it comes to work and hobbies.

Surprisingly, Sansa playfully rolled her eyes and shrugged. "It's okay sometimes. Though there are moments we want to kill each other. It surprises our parents most of the time how our team could get along when it matters with all of us squabbling about."

Jon blinked and looked at her curiously. "Team? You mean most of you are related?"

She grinned then and nodded. "We're all siblings, yes. Well, Gendry's my brother-in-law but yeah, same."

Jon thought back. "How many are you? I think I overheard at least...two more voices aside from Bran and Gendry."

"Team's composed of five. My older brother Robb is the pilot. He's Greywind in code. Bran's code is Summer and he's also our tech expert. Meria or Nymeria you heard is my younger sister Arya and her husband Gendry Baratheon is Bull and both of them complete the team. Well, actually, our huskies complete the team. We have a younger brother whose still in high school that's dying to join the team too when he's older," she went on and he can't help but smile as her eyes warmed and brightened as she went on about her family composed of rescuers.

"So, you're...Lady?" Jon tried to recall hoping he heard right.

She blushed at the same time some more of her hair started escaping her tie. "Yeah," she scratched the tip of her nose. "It's a silly name, I know but our codenames we actually took from the names of our dogs."

He smiled wider. "You named your dog, Lady?"

She nodded happily. "Yes. My Lady is the sweetest and most well-mannered among the litter as well as the most beautiful. Of course, I'd name her appropriately."

"Sounds a lot like her owner - erm, I mean," Wow. Snow. Way to go.

She was as red as her hair then and looked away. "Um."

"Fuck, sorry. I didn't mean to make things awkward - ugh!" he forgot he was strapped on and tried to lean up, groaning in pain once as he fell back, squeezing both his hands.

"Ah! Ow! Take it easy, Jon."

Jon looked at her horrified, letting go of her hand that he was crushing at once. "Sorr-

She grabbed his hand back and shook her head, rubbing her thumb soothingly over the back of his hand and pressing on his other shoulder gently to steady him. "It's fine."

She was looking away as Jon continued to curse at himself and his life.

He wanted her to keep looking at him, keep talking, so he tried to apologize again. "Sansa, I'm sorry."

She looked back at him and he breathed out a little sigh when she smiled down at him. "There's nothing to forgive."

He managed a smile. "You must get that a lot though."

"What?"

"Be told your beautiful," his heart thudded when he decided to say it. He figured there was nothing to lose. He was already at her mercy literally anyhow, and he could always blame the pain and the meds after even if this was all him.

A beautiful flush crept over her face again and he wanted nothing but to tuck her hair behind her ear and lean up close. "I wouldn't say a lot," she shrugged.

Jon snorted, wincing when he did.

"Hey."

"You're gorgeous. You must know that. Everyone you rescue must've said that," he insisted.

And this time Sansa brought her knees up and leant against them. "Yeah. It's pretty surprising that a rescuer has a pretty face." Jon could see the sarcasm through her strained smile.

Oh no. Damn it Jon, she took it the wrong way. Fuck. Say something. "I didn't mean-

She shook her head and sighed. "It's fine. No big deal."

He felt like an asshole then because now by her tone, he knew that this she heard a lot.

"Sansa," he tried. "Let me explain."

"Fine." Then she looked down at him expectantly. "Explain."

"Uh, I meant - that is, er," Jon fumbled.

Sansa arched a brow when he reddened in embarrassment before breaking into a smile and laughing. "Listen, you're in a lot of pain and you've been compliant all throughout, so I'll give you a pass. That and because I think you're very cute,"  she winked and Jon thought he died just then.

"You think I-I'm, uh."

She laughed some more and Jon's eyes closed instinctively when he felt her hands brush some of his hair back. A feat from all the straps and supports. "Yes. I think you're very cute. Why do you think I insisted I stay behind with you?"

He sucked in a breath and winced once more. He then asked through a squinted eye. "But the thing with Gendry and the muscle needed?"

She smirked at him and leaned down so close that their noses were almost touching. "Partly true. But we have a mechanical lever in case the pilot's the only one left up there."

She bit her lip then and shook her head, frowning. "I'm not supposed to flirt with my rescuees. Or encourage them. "

"You don't see me complaining," he grinned up at her.

She arched another brow at him. "Yeah?"

"Well, it's true that it's not everyday that someone saves your life - and that someone is the most beautiful woman in the world at it - wait, don't frown, please. I'm shit at words even more with flirting but you make me want to be brave and your beauty yes, it's what started it, but it's more about your good heart," he said sincerely and hopefully.

She softened then smirked a little. "Good heart?"

"Yes. Out of all professions, you chose something that would entail risking your life to save people. And the way you speak about your family is sweet and shows you care about them. And throughout this rescue, you showed you're not just doing it for the sake of doing it. You made sure to reassure me and keep me feeling warm and safe."

"Despite the numerous straps and ties holding you at my complete mercy?" She grinned wickedly and Jon felt a tingle below, the groan that came out wasn't from pain anymore.

"Y-yes. I trust you. And I'm pretty certain, you had me at huskies," he tried to grin.

"You're a dog lover too?" Her eyes sparkled and Jon was convinced that his luck was truly turning around.

He wanted to say he loved...cats too but he didn't want to be rude so he nodded. "All white husky named Ghost."

She leant close then and trailed a finger down his chest. "I don't give out my number to passes like this but I might make an exception if you could convince me."

When she leant back Jon made a whimpering noise and blurted out. "I don't have to be injured for you to strap me in anything else with anything else."

Her eyes widened and she smiled even more wickedly. "That is interesting. Because I am an expert with knots and cords."

Jon groaned again, squeezing at her hand and pulling because that was all he could do. "I bet you are. And I also bet you're the team leader."

"Hmm? What made you think that?" she purred as she played with a lock of his hair.

"It seemed like you were in charge the whole time. Barking out orders," he smirked.

She sniffed. "I did not bark out orders."

"No. No you didn't. The fact that once you open your mouth and direct so nicely with them doing your bidding right away shows your...power." That and it's now making me feel hot. "So, am I right?"

She examined him before giving a nod. "Yes. I am. My father, the over-all chief of Direwolf Rescue, put me in charge of Alpha Team Search & Rescue," she said proudly.

"How'd your older brother take it?"

She chuckled. "Oh, he doesn't mind much. He just came back a year ago from the army. He was actually groomed to be the ace flyer for the North but he asked to be dismissed and serve as a rescuer instead. He'd rather save people this way rather than through combat."

"I bet you're just being modest and using your brother's sudden return as an excuse," he pressed.

She sighed and shook her head. "You're quite a gambler. Aren't you?"

"I climb hard terrain mountains for fun. I think I can be called for some challenges against some odds," he countered.

"Lady, this is Greywind. Do you read? Over."

Sansa picked up her helmet and Jon frowned when she put it back on, obscuring her face while she started tapping on the mouthpiece.

"This is Lady. I copy. Vee-one secured? Over."

"Affirmative on that. Vee-one secure at base. We're close. Ready for evac? Over."

"Affirmative. We'll stand-by. Over."

She looked down at him again as they both heard the helicopter coming close.

"You'll be air-lifted but don't worry, I'll be with you all the way," she squeezed his hand before he started feeling the panic. Jon didn't fancy floating about helplessly. He was strapped too tight he'd probably die strapped in if he fell or die trying to get himself out of the restraints.

"I won't let you fall, I promise," she gave him another mega-watt smile that made his insides melt once more.

"Okay, I trust you," he said willing her to believe him with his look.

"Good," she squeezed his hand again. "Because I'm giving you a morphine patch now."

"I'm fine."

"Now. But we're picking up a little wind so you'll feel the jostle. Just be a good boy and take it," he heard her ripping a packet beside her and he was hyper aware again.

"Wait-wait!" he shouted before she stuck the patch on him.

She blinked at him expectantly. "You won't be loopy at all. I promise."

"Sill I don't want to be under influence when I ask you out," he said stubbornly.

She smirked. "Is that so?"

"I have to reward my hero somehow, right?" he tried to smile but he was already feeling the sublingual lose its effect.

"Well, Robb likes steak. So does Gendry. Arya likes pie...and Bran likes ice cream," she said casually, checking on his restraints again.

"Yes, yes, but you're the one who lead the rescue and even if you were the leader, you were the one that came down and stayed with me," he said reverently. "I'll reward them yes, but you get to thank you more."

She blushed again and Jon felt like that was a win. "Let's get this on you. You don't have allergies do you? I'd hate to kill you after going through so much effort to save you."

"None," he grinned up at her. "I can't die without rewarding you."

She rolled her eyes and sighed while she stuck it on him.

They heard and felt the chopper hover above them and the sound of something dropping.

"Our ride's here," she grinned at him before tapping her mouthpiece then disappearing from his side.

"Lady to Alpha-Juliett. I've got the harness. Securing Vee-Two now. Over."

"Copy Cap-er-Lady. This is Bull. We'll stand-by. Over."

He heard Sansa chuckle before replying. "Copy, Bull. Wait for my signal. Over."

"Roger. Bull, over and out."

Sansa was smiling at him again holding on to the line with many hooks and straps. "Ready for more straps?"

"Do me a favor. In the event that you do go out with me and I end up in straps again...will you bring your headset?"

Sansa was about to laugh at him when the static broke through again.

"This is Greywind to Lady-" They both heard scratches and snickering in the background. "Do you read? Over."

"Yes, this is your captain speaking. And I copy. Mind your own damn business. Do you read? Over."

"Roger. I'll try not to drop you both. Over."

"Negative on that. Your captain does not authorize such orders. Acknowledge. Over."

They heard the scratch and a sigh. "Affirmative on that Captain. Greywind, over and out."

She was grinning madly when she leant over to start hooking and securing him on the harness.

Jon was starting to feel a little giddy and lightheaded, and maybe a little scared so he tried to flirt again to distract him for whatever it was worth. "You seem to like ordering them around."

Her smile fell a little but her eyes were still bright and playful when they flicked to him briefly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'd let you order me around."

She paused enough to gape at him before smirking and shaking her head as she pulled at one of the straps. "It's not about...ordering them around. Sorry, it's a long story of payback of sorts."

"A story best said over dinner or coffee?" Or on the couch? Floor? Bed? After of course. Fuck I am so hot.

She arched a brow at him after pulling on his strap by his waist. "You're serious, aren't you?"

His brow furrowed. "Yeah. I really want to go on a date with you. Who wouldn't? I mean, I have to try right? Or I'll spend the rest of my life wondering. Besides, Tormund, won't let me live it down if I don't try."

She let out a laugh. "You're one big sap, aren't you?"

"Come on. I almost died today and being saved by a goddess is making me feel invincible. Sue me for trying."

"Okay, Greywind to Vee-two. You're a freaking sap. Do you read?"

"Wolf Den One to Alpha team, this is Summer. Vee-two you are a sap but ask Lady one more time. Vee-one recommends it and confirms Vee-two is a sap. Over."

Sansa looked down at him amused, not even apologetic that the communication lines were open all along.

"You gotta lean down for me to answer," Jon smirked at her after the sudden boost of confidence despite the flush he felt.

Sansa copied his expression and leaned down enough, holding the mic button for Jon.

"This is the sap. Copy that. Permission to ask your Chief out? Over."

"This is Alpha Wolf to Vee-two sap. Negative on that. Head back to base first. Acknowledge," came a new voice that belonged to an older authoritative man.

Sansa burst out laughing then and they both heard laughter on the other lines. "Well, that was my father in case you wanted to know."

Jon wanted to cringe but he was loopy enough not to care so he just answered back. "Copy. Will stand-by. Over."

Sansa waved her hand and turned the com off. "Enough with the chit-chat. I need to get you back on base," she looked at him pointedly but her eyes were still smiling. "Let's go?"

"You're not going to answer now?"

She shook her head. "You heard Alpha Wolf. That's not the priority concern for now."

"I'll take that and put it in my pocket for now," Jon grinned.

"Okay, we're going up. Hold on." She checked the straps one last time before slipping a shield over his eyes. "And you can't reach your pockets anyways."

Jon watched as Sansa looked up and made hand signals before slipping one hand over his while while still looking up and then slowly, he felt the lift. "Here we go."

He almost panicked from the sudden weightlessness and the swaying as he was being lifted off the ground but Sansa's blue eyes held his for most of the ride just as she held his hand that was probably squeezing back too tightly.

The wind roared in his ears and he saw Sansa mouth at him what he thinks as "I won't let you fall." While giving him thumbs up every once in a while.

It felt like an eternity when it was actually just fifteen minutes more or less. And he let out a breath of relief when he felt the ground beneath him which was immediately replaced with sadness and longing that pretty soon, Sansa was going to leave him.

"We're here," Sansa shouted over the noise and he saw two more people over him as they started removing the harnesses.

He heard the chopper land and the soft whirr of the blades as they gradually stopped.

Sansa never let his hand go even as he was transferred up in a stretcher and he held on tightly back.

He saw Gendry above him, and two more faces joining Sansa all wearing the same grey and blue jackets and jumpsuits with the direwolf patches. One was a short girl with grey eyes and short brown hair who was smirking at him while the other one who was frowning was a tall guy who looked like Sansa with his matching hair and eyes and he realized this was her team - her siblings looking down at him.

He managed a sheepish grin. "Uh, thank you for saving my life?"

"Well, he's not blonde if that's a good sign," the girl, Arya if he recalled correctly as he nudged at her brother - Robb who was still grimacing at him.

"We shall see. Anyway, nice to meet you Jon. Your friend Tormund was a delight," Robb grinned knowingly.

If Jon's hand was free he'd have scrubbed his face. "What did the oaf tell you?"

"A lot," Gendry smirked at him.

"Shoo. Everyone scatter. Jon needs to go to the infirmary," Sansa glared at all of them.

Gendry raised his hands in surrender and backed away at once, laughing, pulling Arya with him who glared at him before shooting Sansa a wicked look. "Why? So you can play his private nursemaid, Captain?"

Sansa sighed in frustration and rolled her eyes. "Go. I'll join you shortly."

"I'm coming with you," Robb readjusted his hold on his helmet against his side.

"No. You're not."

"I'm not speaking as a subordinate. I am speaking as an older brother," he insisted.

Sansa lifted her chin. "By what? Four minutes?"

"Yes!"

"Wait, you're twins?" And he immediately regretted his words when he was met with matching narrowed looks.

"Come on Robb. Or else I'll tell everyone about--

"Okay, okay. But I'm still watching you," he pointed two fingers at his eyes then pointed it back at Jon.

Sansa's face softened as he felt he was finally being wheeled away with her still walking beside his stretcher and holding his hand. "Sorry about that. Robb tends to be overprotective. Ask Gendry."

"Does that mean--"

She reddened when she realized and that stirred hope in him. "We'll see."

Jon was wheeled into Radiology right away to confirm any breaks. He was sad to part with Sansa but was happy at least that he only broke his shoulder and not anything else so they could remove his neck brace.

When he was in the infirmary he was allowed to sit up after they braced his shoulder against his chest. Throughout his examination and interview, he was beet red from embarrassment because his doctor was no other than Dr. Catelyn Stark, Sansa's mother.

Sansa resembled her mother but had lighter hair. Dr. Stark was quiet and critical as she worked but she had a look about her that made him feel like if he ever hurt Sansa, she'd be the first to kill him.

With how efficient she worked, she'd kill him fast or excruciatingly slow. He gulped.

But when he saw Sansa's father, Ned Stark. Commander of the Rescue, he could see that while Sansa favored Dr. Stark's appearance, Sansa had her father's stare and he couldn't explain it, but they both shared the look and voice of quiet authority. He also, though more accommodating, looked like he had a shotgun and knew how to use it.

Commander Stark with someone named Vayon Poole took his statements where he was rejoined with Tormund who looked at him knowingly.

Jon kept waiting for Ned Stark to chastise him about his inappropriateness earlier but other than the knowing smile he gave in the end before he left, he didn't say anything.

Alpha Team came back but to Jon's obvious disappointment, they all came without Sansa.

They had shed their jumpsuits and thick jackets, being dressed instead in matching grey pants and white round neck shirts with a stripe of royal blue down their sleeves and the same grey direwolf head patch on their left breast with their names embroidered below it. At the back was Direwolf Rescue printed in grey.

It was Arya Baratheon and Robb Stark who reviewed with both him and Tormund about what could've gone wrong and how they could prevent it in the future until Tormund fell asleep, snoring loudly at one point.

All in all the Starks and the honorary Stark were nice people. He even met with Bran who came down from the Tower at the end of his shift and Jon was surprised to see him look so much more than Sansa than Robb though it was probably him being beard-less. He was grinning at him from his sleek modern wheelchair while a giant brown and white husky trailed after him. "Sansa is just giving a briefing outside with father."

He blushed and everyone started snickering and whistling.

"You know, she's single," Bran added.

"Yeah, but I don't know if you can handle someone like her," Arya smirked at him. "You've seen how bossy she could be."

Jon wrinkled his forehead. "I don't think she's been that bossy at all." And he was being honest. She was sweet and reassuring...calm, incredibly calm even after the teasing.

That only made them laugh harder.

"I don't think I need to threaten you anymore," Robb shook his head. "Just give you a warning." He winked.

"It is true. She wasn't as...commanding," Gendry chided.

"Ooh. That must mean you're special then," Arya cackled. She then nudged Robb again and looked up at him. "Remember the Hardhome rescue?"

Robb covered his ears. "It's all coming back screaming at me."

"What are you all giggling about?"

"Ooh, speak of the devil-" Arya smirked at Jon.

Jon's heart started thudding the moment he heard her voice.

And there she was, still in her complete uniform and holding up her helmet in one hand while loosening her hair with her other as she approached like one of the returning heroes in the movies after a daring rescue.

Jon couldn't help but stare at her as her hair flowed down like silk as it was released from her tie and his jaw almost dropped as she started unfastening her harnesses, then stripping down from her jacket and jumpsuit. She was turned sideways from him so he knew she didn't see him gawk at her and try to commit the memory but in slow motion later.

It was like he and Sansa were in their own world where he gaped as she stripped her clothes one by one starting with the thick fleece-lined and padded jacket.

He watched as she unzipped her jumpsuit all the way from her neck down her crotch, pushing it down from her shoulders then stepping out of them until she was left in the same shirt and pants as her family.

He could barely register what everyone was saying around him, too focused on confirming how sexy he knew she was underneath all those layers as she bent down to pick up her discarded clothes and harnesses.

"Jon? Hello? Westeros to Jon? Hello!"

He knew someone was waving a hand in his face but he only snapped out of it when Sansa's eyes shot to his as one blurted out "Sansa, you better say something because I think Jon's in shock."

Jon looked at the owner of the voice and saw it was Bran who beckoned him to lean down at him. "Better pick up your jaw, Jon Snow," he whispered. "We don't really appreciate it when you check out our sister's bum."

He reddened deeper.

Sansa walked over to him and everyone fake saluted her for effect. She rolled her eyes but humored them. "At ease," she said with a chuckle while placing her things on the empty bed next to his. When she was done she walked over to him with her hands behind her back.

"Hi Jon. How are you feeling?" she smiled at him and Jon forgot to breath for a moment.

"Better now that you're here I'm sure," Tormund's raspy voice came from the bed on his other side followed by snorts and more laughing.

Jon looked mortified but Sansa just turned to the others and raised her brows, shaking her head and they mock saluted them again while Arya mouthed "Told you so" behind her followed by a wink.

"Does anything hurt? Mother told me you were lucky with just your bad shoulder from that nasty fall you took," she leaned over and examined his shoulder.

"Say something, you bloody fool," Tormund hissed at him loudly while he turned in his bed.

Jon glared at his back before plastering a smile. "Aside from the shoulder, I'm fine. So, um, I met your family."

She looked at him apologetically. "I hope none of them gave you a hard time," she eyed them briefly. They grinned at her innocently then made weird faces when her back was turned on them. "Though you haven't met one more. Where's Rickon?"she asked Bran.

"He's with the pack. Someone has to hold the dogs before they charge at Jon here," It was Robb who answered.

Jon gulped.

"That's it. Out, all of you. Arya, go brief Bravo team for the next shift. Gendry, go with her. Robb, dad needs you in the yard to dismiss the trainees. Bran, mother needs you to update the infirmary system."

After sighs and groans, they, for the last time, gave her another mock salute before leaving.

But not before Arya shouted over her shoulder. "Don't be fooled Jon. She may be a Lady in the streets, but a--mmph!" They both turned to see Gendry clamping his hand over her mouth and half-dragging, half-carrying her out with a sheepish smile.

Robb just gave Jon another warning look before heading out while Bran just smiled and waved at them before he left.

And then there were two.

Well, Tormund was here too but he was full on snoring.

"Mother said he was very worried. She threatened to induce him if he didn't settle down. Hmm. Maybe she did but your friend's pretty tough."

Jon frowned. "I hope he didn't give Dr. Stark that hard a time. He can be a handful and he cusses like there's no tomorrow and no need to whisper. He can sleep through the apocalypse."

She chuckled. "I see." Then her eyes were on his again.

"I know my family can seem very...rowdy but we're nice people. They just like to tease me a lot because I get to order them at work." she grinned and he couldn't help but reciprocate.

"You don't have to convince me about you Starks being nice. Although, your mother scares me a little," he admitted.

She giggled. "Yes but once she warms to you, she'll be your biggest supporter."

"That means, I get to have the opportunity for that?" he asked hopefully.

"Hmm. Sure it's not the meds talking?" she tilted her head.

"Pretty sure it's just regular Jon Snow talking," he shrugged then winced.

"Hey, easy. So I see you've been reduced to three straps. And good to talk to you without leaning down. My neck was starting to strain there," she rubbed at her neck for emphasis and Jon almost sighed again.

"Three straps for a month or two. Glad it's not my dominant side though," his mouth twitched up.

"Just bloody ask her out loud and clear," Tormund murmured and when they looked at him he was grinning wickedly. "Lady, he's good with head. I'll give you his references. Let him reward you. I promise you he's a good lad. You can even call my wife. He's our thank you present for your brave rescue. Do with him as you will."

Jon wanted to throttle him and get swallowed by the ground at the same time.

He looked horrifically at Sansa who was blinking passively at Tormund but there was a slight flush in her face.

"Will you just shut up you idiot!" Jon threw a pillow at him never mind the pain, it was worth it to see it fly true straight to his face.

Tormund just laughed and hugged the pillow against him. "Piss on that. You were getting nowhere with your tittering." He then focused on Sansa. "Lady Captain, do you accept my thank you gift?"

She looked at Jon and eyed him up and down before smirking back at Tormund. "I don't know. I only accept...gifts freely given."

Jon felt like perishing in flames.

"Oh, believe me, Lady. He gives freely."

She looked at Jon again. "I don't know. I usually accept gifts wrapped in bows." She grinned in the end.

"You can wrap me in anything you want," Jon blurted out while Tormund laughed loudly.

Sansa flushed then but gained her composure quickly, walking close to him and Jon scooted so she could sit down next to him. Fuck, she's even prettier up close.

"Well, in the songs, when a princess is rescued by a gallant knight or a prince, she rewards her savior with a kiss," she whispered while following the finger she was trailing up his arm that left goosebumps in its trail.

"Are you saying I'm your lady?" he tried to joke but shut up quickly when she raised her eyes. "I'm saying, is that you should kiss me, Jon Snow."

Jon didn't need telling twice as he reached up to cup her cheek and leant down to kiss her and both moaned in surprise. Jon held her closer, cursing that he only had that one arm that was free and he wanted nothing more but to haul her to his lap, contemplating that maybe the pain would be worth it but she instead was more mindful of his injuries. Kneeling on the bed to reach him, placing one hand on his good shoulder to keep remind him while her other was carding his hair.

They kissed for what seemed like eternity and the opposite at the same time, grinning at each other while catching their breaths.

"Wow," was all he could say.

She chuckled then gave him a saucy look. "While that was wow too, that's not the kiss I meant," she batted her lashes at him and if he wasn't flushed before, he was completely red and hotter now as he sucked in a breath. She leaned close. "Do you want to know a secret?" He nodded dumbly. She leaned up and whispered in his ear while one hand covered. "I like being tied up too," then she kissed below his ear.

But before he could react she was off the bed and at the foot of his bed as he continued following her with his stare.

"It's too late to head out tonight. I'll see you in the morning Jon," She winked at

"Roger that Captain Stark," He barely called out.

She blew him a kiss and he followed her with his eyes until he couldn't anymore. Dropping on the bed with a ridiculous grin.

"If you don't marry that girl, I'm ending our friendship. And you're welcome, by the way."

Jon just laughed and sighed as he started thinking on the logistics of moving from Bear Island to Winterfell where their base was located.

He liked the Starks. They were modern day heroes and they seem like a big and happy family.

The last thought he had, well, the last innocent thought he had because really, he's halfway to fantasy land with all of Sansa Stark's words, was that, who better to ask on how to join the Stark family than their first honorary member.

It was time to befriend Gendry Baratheon.

"I can hear you thinking Snow. Just do me a favor will ya? Please make sure to perform well and not waste my glowing recommendation or I'll hack your pecker off myself. I owe you my life, but I owe the Starks now too. I'll tie you up myself and deliver you to her doorstep if she asks without blinking, so help me."

Ribbons. Ties. Harness. My own tongue. Jon would let him if Sansa ordered it.

Choosing to save Tormund's ass was starting to look like his best decision ever.

He closed his eyes then and surrendered to his fantasies involving Sansa Stark and harnesses.

#jonsa #jonsaforlife #jon snow x sansa stark #jon snow #Sansa Stark #fanfic #fanfiction #ladymdfic

[ladywolfmd]

Serva me, serbabo te

Summary: "save me, save you"Jon is a Trauma Surgeon while Sansa is a Neurosurgeon who both work together in Eastwatch Veterans Memorial Medical Center where they eventually get together. It's their 9th month and even though they haven't reached a year yet, Dr. Snow believes that they were actually two decades in the making. He reflects on their past and notes that they've only had three significant encounters before Eastwatch starting with the time Jon taught Sansa how to tie her first successful surgeon's knot using a two-handed throw. This 9th month would also be their reunion after six months of being separated due to Sansa's overseas fellowship and Jon means to make it the last by giving Sansa one last lesson in knot tying. That is, if things would just go the damn way he planned.

You can read this in AO3 too: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11655798 (The formatting is better there and there are also images) 

 During surgery, knot construction involves two distinct steps. The purpose of the first step is to secure precise approximation of the wound edges by advancing either a one-throw or a two-throw knot to the wound surface.

October 18, 2017

7:49pm

Rooftop/Helipad, Eastwatch-by-the-Sea

Jon checked his watch for the hundredth time and he straightened his tie for the thousandth time.

And lastly, he patted the inside of his coat, took out the small black box, and opened it for good measure for the millionth time.

He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw the ring.

It was...a simple white gold band with a princess cut sapphire. But what made it special was the design Jon insisted on.

He had it designed in a way that the band held the sapphire in a perfect surgeon's knot with the double throws. He even had to demonstrate how it was done many times - much to his sister Rhaenys' amusement when she went with him to look for the right jeweler. Jon cringed at the memory of flying off to see her in King's Landing in a panic because though he knew he wanted the knot design, he couldn't answer when he was asked what cut he wanted, what shade of sapphire or if he wanted to look at other blue gems. In his mind he just needed something that would match Sansa's eyes. After telling him to relax and calm himself, she made a call to her friend, Dr. Brienne Tarth, an Orthopedic surgeon she worked with whose family owned a sapphire mine and an artisan jewelers. They flew to the Sapphire Isle then and it was there that Rhaenys pointed out the star sapphire from the collection, joking that it would remind him of his Northern bride-to-be.

"What?" he remembered staring at her dumbly before looking at what she pointed out. Rhaenys looked at him weirdly before arching a brow. "You know? What do they say in the North... 'Look for the Ice Dragon and chase the blue star in the rider's eye' and you'll find yourself North."

At the look of shock on his face he remembered Rhaenys smirking at him as she placed the stone in front of him. "What do you know, my brother is a true dragon after all."

Then he looked at it and saw the exact shade of Sansa's eyes with the winking asterism in the middle.That coupled with the Ice Dragon constellation whose blue eye always pointed North he did know about, was too much. There in the middle of the jewelry store he started to cry. Rhaenys took the reins then and dealt with the jeweler as Jon collected himself, only looking up when she asked him a question about engraving but he could take his time in thinking of that one if he wanted it.

He did. His hand traced the engraving he had done on the inside after a week of searching. It was another latin phrase but when he read it he knew the words were what he wanted.

He thought, that was it, just as he thought, she was it. The ring was finalized and ready just as he was too. A soft smile found its way to a corner of his mouth while a free hand made it's way to the back of his head.  

serva me, serbabo te

A latin quote from Petronius Arbiter that meant, "Save me, save you."

Jon chose it because he thought it was an accurate description of their relationship with how many times they saved each other in more ways than one.

Sure they were just on their ninth month of being official, but if they looked back, they were actually almost two decades in the making - at least that was what Jon believed.

Two decades with only three significant encounters. Jon couldn't help but laugh at that, shaking his head in disbelief.

Three.

A summer workshop at Highgarden as med students.

A rooftop confession on Casterly Rock as a resident and a fellow on a medical convention.

And a whirlwind night in King's Landing as junior consultants off duty.

Only three major encounters - South, West, East.

All by chance and that only made those meetings more meaningful despite a tinge, bittersweet. Three chances. Three beautiful cities but all it took to have a meeting that lasted more than a night was to meet at the edge of the North.

So truly, it's fitting that I seal the deal and we stay in the North - he almost cried again, blinking away the tears and swallowing the sudden lump in his throat.

But it was no use to resist because every time he closed his eyes, he'd see it. The large black and white house that had a blue door with its wide porch, a large yard where Ghost and Lady could play, a balcony that on one side, overlooked the White Knife, while on one side, you could see the harbor still as it opened to the Bite...a garden that was still empty save for a lemon tree that he planted himself. It was all there so clear. In his mind, he opened the blue doors and imagined the living room with the fire place, the huge ass kitchen that had all the works so she could bake and he could cook, a study that was also a library and an office, four bedrooms - a master, three spares, one that could easily be converted into a nursery... everything they needed to start a new life together.

That is, if Jon wasn't too late...again.

His eyes snapped open and he couldn't help the anxiety that was building up once more as he thought about what this day meant first and above all - a reunion.

It's been six months since he last saw Sansa. She was on a Spinal Surgery fellowship in Volantis. One he practically pushed her to do. Well, one of the things he made her do.

Because barely a month after she agreed to move in with him, his father, Prime Minister Rhaegar Targaryen, along with Sansa's mother, Senator Catelyn Tully-Stark (who almost unleashed her wrath on her daughter's poor treatment at the hospital she loved so much), arranged for Sansa to just be a visiting consultant in Eastwatch Veterans Memorial Medical Center, transferring her to New Castle Presbyterian Hospital in White Harbor on his insistence and Sansa's ire.

It took a lot of fights - too many tears and yelling that almost ended them for good but in the end, it was one, the promise that she'd still be in Eastwatch twice a week, still as the department chair with Dr. Leo Tyrell in Last Hearth, and Dr. Domeric Bolton in Dreadfort to cover for all the hospitals for the Eastern North for Neurologic and Neurosurgical cases; two, the accreditation to offer neurosurgery residency in NCP with all three of them and the chief Dr. Theomore Lannister as their attendings. Residents meant more doctors for the specialty after all, solving the service scarcity in the North.

He was happy for her. He really was.

But he missed her.

Terribly.

After a month of coming home to her, or her coming home to him, or them going home together - seeing her everyday, with most days she's the first thing he sees in the morning, and the last he sees before he sleeps, the temporary separation - logistically, only logistically, he always had to add -  was painful and there was always the fear that she might still leave him for good even if she told him she missed him everyday too. He can't forget how she didn't want to go in the first place. Well she did a little though she wanted to stay more. But he would damn himself before he stopped her from advancing her career just as he knew she would never keep him from doing the same.

She's done so much for other people, she needed to do this for herself. In the end whatever she gained there she'd use in her practice so it's really win-win.

"What is this?" She came home that day, seeing her luggage packed, a crumpled letter containing an invitation for a Spinal Surgery fellowship in Essos Jon found a week prior, and plane ticket in his hand, her eyes looked at him with so much accusation.

He wordlessly grabbed her hand then placed the letter and the ticket there. Sansa looked at it, her eyes widened as she realized, misting in a mix of hurt and anger as she looked at him and waited for an explanation.

He had to steel himself that day - had to keep from backing out and apologizing profusely. So he started going over the details. "Here's your passport and your other documents. Your flight leaves in two hours, which is enough time to drive you to the airport. I already forwarded your acceptance. I've printed out their reply and other details. It's all there. And this is the loft where you'll be staying. The building is owned by your sister-in-law's family and Talisa already talked to her younger brother and her parents to assist you in any way. My aunt Dany can visit you too or you could go to her. You've met Drogo, her husband right, at Casterly? Dr. Tyrell and Dr. Bolton have you covered here and would update you. I can take care of Lady, no problem, though Arya promised to take her too in case I need help. New Castle Pres is aware of this too and will be waiting for your return. What else am I missing?"

All throughout his rambling, Sansa was silent. And he just knew that if he looked at her face he'd lose it so he kept avoiding that for as long as he could. She would say no and get mad at him. Or worse. She'd walk out. He hadn't felt so terrified as that moment but he knew how much she denied that she wanted to go - if not for her but for Bran, her crippled brother, and who he represented.

Finally, he couldn't stall forever. He needed to be firm. And he needed to say it to her face.

And there it was - those painful silent tears that streamed on her heartbreaking face.

He stepped closer to her then and grabbed both hands in his. "Sweetheart, I don't want to be apart from you - not even for a second, but I can't keep you from this too. I know you feel you need to be here more if not for yourself, but for Bran, or even for me, but you have to, my love." He framed her face. "I love that you want to stay here more - truly, I love you even more for that, but I don't want you thinking of what-if? It's not about fearing that you would resent me in the future if you miss this. It's just, opportunities like this don't just happen. But what I can assure you is that no matter where you go, you can always, always come back to something - to me - to our home. I've waited for years, I can wait a few more months. I won't go anywhere. Just try. Try and then come back anytime. As long as you would have me, baby, I'm a constant until you say otherwise. But this opportunity - is not. Everything will be fine. Just do what you have to do."

"But we just - I can't just - I haven't even," she struggled for words, her breath catching with each pause. "I had just agreed to White Harbor. Why?"

He pressed his forehead against hers. "I know. And now I'm pressing this too. And everything you agreed to will still happen when you return. Getting this fellowship  now is more important."

"Why are you pushing me away again?"

"I'm not. I'm pushing you towards your dream. Isn't Spinal surgery your dream?"

"I can't do this right now."

"If not now, when? I talked to them. They won't have another slot like this in the next two years."

"This is six months, Jon. Six months. We've only been together for four. It's too soon."

He felt like crying then too but forced a smile and kissed her once. "Four amazing months. But...What's six months to sixteen years, Sansa?" He brushed his thumbs across her cheeks.

"Take it."

She did but not before giving Jon a parting gift.

"I love you Jon."

It was the first time she said it out loud and she did so with tears in her eyes but a loving smile on her face and this time, Jon couldn't hold back his own.

They had each other desperately then and much too quick - making it all the more harder to part as they clung to each other all the way until it was time for her to go.

There would be no flying back in between or visits from Jon as they both agreed, though they promised to call each other as much as they could.

While she was in Volantis, Jon made sure to make good use of those six months to prepare for their future.

He smiled while looking at the ring again.

Jon jumped and stood up straight, the ring shoved back inside his coat pocket, as the door to the rooftop opened and much to his disappointment, that flash of red hair didn't belong to the blue eyed, leggy, wonder woman love of his life.

Instead, it was Tormund.

He sat back down immediately, frowning while his fellow Trauma Surgeon, Dr. Giantsbane laughed loudly as he approached.

"Well, don't look too disappointed, Snow."

Jon sighed and offered a weak smile. "Sorry, d'you need anything?"

Tormund shook his head. "Nah. Just wanted to check up on you."

"Thanks," Jon replied, checking his watch again.

7:15pm

His brow knotted. Sansa was due at seven and she's never late.

"Maybe her flight got delayed?"

Jon shook his head, his hand running across his hair as he checked his phone with his other hand. "She texted me as soon as her plane landed in Winterfell and then again when she said she's driving."

"Well, she probably stopped for gas or something," Tormund tried to reassure him but the worry had already started to take root and Jon began to pace at the beat of his accelerating heart.

Something was wrong.

He wanted to call her or text her but she was driving - anything could happen.

Tormund's reassurances was heard as if he was underwater and all he could focus on was his worry over Sansa.

Did I say I love you before she left?

When she called?

Oh Gods.

He was starting to panic as worse case upon worse case scenarios kept playing in his mind.

It was only when Tormund pushed him to put his head between his knees that he realized he was hyperventilating.

Why did he wait until now to -

I should've asked her the moment she said she loves me back.

Why did I make her go to Volantis?

"Breathe. Breathe, Jon. Come on."

He did.

"It's going to be okay," Tormund said unbelievably gentle as he kept his large warm hand clamped firm on his shoulder. "Just nerves," Tormund tried to ease him into it.

Just as Jon was on the verge of relaxing, Tormund's pager sounded. He felt him tense and that made him hold his breath and tense too.

Raising his head at him, he looked at Tormund who was already striding quickly towards the door.

"What is it?"

Tormund avoided his eyes and simply answered over his shoulder. "Code Orange."

Code Orange meant mass casualty or disaster, alerting the hospital for an onslaught.

And just like that Jon felt the world crashing over him as he sees his worst nightmare take place before him.

Before Jon could nag him, Tormund's phone rang. "What?"

And then Jon knew. It was only a split second but Jon saw Tormund instinctively glance at him.

Jon couldn't take it anymore so he grabbed him by his arms. "Tell me."

Tormund considered him before nodding and beckoning him to follow.

"Before that, I know you're not one of ours anym-"

He shook his head. "I'll help. But first I have to know. Please."

As they rode the elevator Tormund sighed then quickly told him.

"There's been a mass collision at the King's Road. The driver of a ten-wheeler had a stroke, swerved, and totalled a Prius. There was considerate traffic, eight vehicles directly involved. Five dead onsite, seven gravely injured, fifteen minor injuries. One of the cars was a red Hybrid."

"That's Sansa's car!" All the colors drained from his face and he bolted towards the emergency room as soon as the doors opened, one hand pressed call.

Sansa, love, please be okay please answer, please Oh Gods please not her.

It rang and rang then went to voicemail.

Hi. This is Dr. Stark. Sorry, I'm not available right now please leave-

He shoved his phone back his pocket but before he could enter the backdoor to ER, Dr. Karsi Rayder - his former teammate, apprehended him.

"Jon-Jon she's okay, she's okay! Sansa's okay!"

His chest loosened somewhat. "Where is she?"

"On the way. She stayed behind the site to do damage control earlier."

"How'd you know?"

"EMTs and she just called. It's bedlam there but we sent Val and Domeric there to relieve her. She's bringing in a multiple trauma herself."

Just then the double doors opened and there with her hand pressing on the torso of a patient and had improvised trache in his neck - one nurse hooked bagging there, was Sansa - Sansa with her red vivid hair straightened half up and mussed, wearing the green dress he loved on her was here.

He didn't think, just ran to her.

Closer as she yelled out orders while trying to apply pressure on the patient's abdominal wound, Jon looked her over immediately.

Her hair was mussed a little, there was a rip on her dress, and blood was splattered everywhere, on her hands, her arms, her dress, some on her face. He prayed to all the Gods that none was from hers, selfishly.

That moment, he wasn't thinking like a doctor.

It was Sansa. Only Sansa he was concerned about.

"Sansa," he managed.

Her blue eyes saw him then and she briefly took in his appearance before giving a sort of smile, her eyes softening for just a moment.

Six months, mussed hair and bloodied, she was still the most beautiful thing he would ever see.

"Jon," she breathed out before her hand was replaced by a nurse's and instruments were being handed to her after pumping disinfectant on her hand and slipping on sterile gloves as she started working on stopping the bleeding.

Another nurse was tying a mask around her face and Jon realized that despite the tender yet too brief greeting she gave him, she was going to be a doctor first. He slid his jacket off then, rolled his sleeves, and took over nurse's task of slipping an apron on her.

While he tied it around her back, he inspected her for any sign of damage. It was when he was pulling her hair up and tucking it inside a cap when he saw that she was bleeding too from a two gashes on her temple secured by surgi-tapes.

"Sansa, you're hurt!"

"I'm fine. The bleeding will stop eventually - I put in a tape. I don't have a concussion, I promise," she said in a clipping tone Jon doesn't usually hear her doing.

"That will still need stitching," he insisted.

Sansa looked at him squarely then. "Later. Right now I'm way below the triage. Go stitch up someone else." She turned her back to him without another word and Jon stared at her as she declared that the patient had to have an exploratory laparotomy here and now. Nurse Satin Flowers told her that either she do it or the patient waits because currently, all the surgeons on deck were occupied this unexpected night shift.

She didn't say anything, just nodded while Satin left to get her everything she needed while she helped with getting a second central line in because Nurse Gilly Tarley was the one applying pressure on the wound. It was only when Dr. Larence Hornwood, the anesthesiologist came in did he regain himself. Sansa was by then, replacing the improvised trache with the standard tube.

"I got here as fast as I could. Here, I'll hook him up the respirator. You're going to do the lap Dr. Stark?"

"I'm going to have to."

"I'll do it."

They both looked at Jon. "I'll do it," he repeated. "There might be someone who needs you more. I've got this."

Sansa nodded then and started walking over to the triage officer but before she passed Jon completely, she touched his arm and squeezed and then was off.

"Are you back, Dr. Snow?" Larence prompted him.

Jon took a deep breath and gave a firm nod. "Let's go."

He had to take his cue from Dr. Sansa Stark - who, by the grace of all the gods, was alive and here.

So now, he had to be Dr. Jon Snow.  

The second step in knot construction is the addition of a sufficient number of throws to the knot so that it does not fail by slippage.

Supply room

11:48pm

Jon grabbed alcohol swabs, gloves, several 4-0 Nylons, a Mayo-Hegar needle holder, scissors, and a pack of sterile gauze, then placed them on a tray. The crisis at the E.R. was finally resolved with the doctors on duty shooing those who weren't away.

Despite only having a skeletal force of six surgeons, three surgical interns, they were able to sort out the fifteen people who came in, in record time. Most of that was due in thanks for Sansa, Val, and Domeric doing as much as they could onsite.

Jon had to do three ExLaps at the E.R., several minor wound surgeries, and some bone resetting. But it was when the patient swung an arm at him as he reset his dislocated shoulder did he get the gash down his collar when he stepped back and slipped, falling on the tray with the wound repair set. Thank the Gods they weren't used.

He needed stitches himself but copied Sansa by packing it with a thick gauze and tape first then worry about repairing it later.

It was finally later.

And Seven hells did he feel the throb of the contracting wound now, blood still seeping through the gauze.

He could've asked anyone there to help him but he didn't want to bother them anymore so he slunk towards the storage where he intended to do it himself.

Just as he was untying the disposable surgical gown they threw haphazardly at him before, the door to the storage opened and to his surprise and delight, it was Sansa.

His heart started skipping then as he looked at the same surprised expression she was wearing, her mouth slightly opened and partly covered with her pushed down mask.

"Jon?"

He couldn't help but grin then, walked - almost ran towards her, his arms wrapped around her at once - he released a breath he didn't know he was holding til then.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck and he felt her warm, soft, body sinking into him as she returned his embrace and sighed deeply.

They were drenched in sweat, in blood, and other fluids as they were still wearing the gowns and now tears joined the mix.

His shoulders were shaking as he held on to her tight. "Sansa... oh Sansa..." he kept repeating her name and alternated squeezing and stroking her as if he still couldn't believe she was there.

Sansa only tightened her hold on him, her hands gripping his shirt and gown tightly.

"I thought I -

Sansa shook her head against his chest. "I did too but I'm not. I'm here."

Jon pulled back, slid her mask down, and kissed her then, his hands flying up to her hair as he kissed her desperately. Sansa held on to his arms and kissed back just as fiercely.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jon pulled back and cradled her face as he bent down and narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't you ever scare me like that again."

Sansa let out a laugh amidst the tears. "I told you I'd come back. Have I ever broken a promise before?"

Jon couldn't help the deep sigh . "I'm so happy you're finally here." He brushed his thumbs against her cheek after he leant his forehead against hers. "I don't know what I'd do - Gods."

"Come on Jon. Not you too. Don't get too sappy on me, my phone hasn't stopped blasting from the pack. I'm fine. I'm here. For good," she tilted her head at him.

Jon let out a deep breath and rolled his head back. "Thank the Gods! These six months were torture - pure torture."

She smirked then. "Hey, this was your idea, might I remind you." She poked at his chest causing him to wince and her eyes to widen in shock.

Jon tried to play it off but it did hurt. "I'm fine."

"Jon! You're bleeding," she didn't wait and started yanking down Jon's gown as well as the grey button down he wore. When she saw the wound she tsked at Jon then after seeing the tray he set down on a bench, she grabbed it, tucked it in between her arm and chest, then pulled at his hand, dragging him towards the on-call room.

Jon just shook his head and laughed as he let her drag him away.

Once they were inside the on call room which was, as expected this busy shift, empty, they removed their disposable gowns and threw them in the hazard bin.

Sansa made him sit down on the floor. Once he was settled, she set the tray on the bed then sat across from him. It was only when Sansa was unbuttoning his shirt that he realized they were still wearing their more formal date clothes underneath their disposables.

He watched as Sansa slipped on her gloves, clamped an alcohol swab and started disinfecting the wound. He noted that before the incident, she was on her way dressed up just for him. With her long red hair down the way he loved it, and the damn green dress that was his undoing time and time again the rare times she wore it.

Now her hair was still hidden and tucked in her cap but there were a few wisps that escaped and curled around her exquisite face that was poised in fiery concentration, blazing behind those blues he missed so much, that often drove him mad with want. Her mouth was pursed as they were whenever she was focused. Her lipstick had faded and her lips had little indents where she must've been biting it as she did when she was worried. There was blood drying on her arms and dress. He tried not to frown when he noted that there were tears at the hem of that dress. This would be the last time she'd wear it.

"I'm going to give you some Lidocaine now- what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Their eyes met then and Jon couldn't keep from reaching over and pulling her cap off, watching as all that red came tumbling down her face, her neck, and her back. He looked back at her face and saw she was blushing and giving him a knowing look. He brushed the strands away from her shoulder then cupped her neck.

"You are so beautiful."

Sansa's eyes softened and she ducked her reddened face, picking up the syringe she filled with the local anesthetic before looking back at me. "I'm going to give you the lido now."

Wanting to tease her, he leant forward and kissed her lips again before leaving it to kiss a trail down her neck. Gods did I miss this - miss her.

"Jon -"

"Go on. Stitch me up. I don't need the lido. This is better than any anesthetic." He started rubbing at her sides, switching to kissing her ear, his hands urging her closer.

He felt her push him then and he sat back grumbling.

Sansa smirked and shook her head. "No. It's distracting."

Jon mirrored her smirk. "Yeah?"

She rolled her eyes. "Come on. The sooner I'm done -

Jon leant forward again, excited. "Yeah? You'll what?"

But before she could say anything, Jon saw her head wound again and frowned. "Wait. Maybe I'll do you first."

Sansa grinned devilishly. "Oh, don't worry, Dr. Snow. You can certainly...do me later. But not before I do you first."

Jon couldn't help himself then and grabbed her and kissed her again. Sansa let him for a solid three seconds before she shoved him away, shaking her head but grinning. "No open wounds while doing strenuous activity."

Jon sat straight then and kept his arms behind him. "Then by all means, stitch me up quickly."

She laughed before injecting the lidocaine anyway. Then she grabbed the Mayo, clamped the 4-0 curved needle, and held the toothed forceps with her left hand. "Ready?"

Jon smiled at her, trying to push down the desire that was burning him up. He's seen Sansa operate many times and knew how delicate she held each tool and how precise and with finesse she handled each stitch and cut - having learned to handle the most sensitive organ of the body - the brain. She was so skilled and now even if it was terribly simple for her level, he can't wait for her to use her talented hands on him.

She was about to kneel when he stopped her. "Wait." He grabbed a pillow and placed it on the floor in front of him. Sansa kissed his nose then. "Thanks."

Jon's breath hitched when she pushed the pillow closer to him and positioned herself kneeling in between his legs.

"Hold still," she murmured.

Believe me, I'm trying.

"Relax, I'll just do six stitches."

"One for each month you were away," he didn't mean to blurt out but that earned him a laugh.

He watched her then as she sew the first suture - a simple interrupted stitch. It was almost hypnotic as he watched her loop the nylon around the the needle holder, then grasped at the other end, pulling it inside the loop, closing the stitch then cutting. It was all he could do, watch her stitch and cut, trying to ignore the way he felt her warm breath on his naked chest and the smell of her hair, the touch of her hands...

When she got to the last stitch, before she closed it, she dropped the instruments back on the tray then with a small smile, tied the final knot using the two-handed technique Jon taught her.

"All done," she whispered, her nose almost touching Jon's.

Jon was about to lean in when he froze.

"What? What is it?"

Knots!

He stood up then and began patting his pants pockets.

Fuck, it's in my coat pocket! Seven hells where is my coat?

"Jon, what's wrong?"

Jon looked at her then, still kneeling down and looking at him anxiously too, scratching at her gash unsuspectingly.

He swallowed then and pushed it all aside for now, kneeling down in front of her and cradling her head. "It's nothing." It's just a ring. He kissed her forehead and smiled as he pulled away. She's here and she's alive. That's all that matters right now.

He gently touched the side of her head that was starting to bruise. She probably hit her head on the wheel as she swerved to the side to avoid the collision. She winced a little and he cursed.

"Are you sure you don't need to get a CT at least?"

She shook her head. "Just a flesh wound," she grinned.

Jon rolled his eyes at her reference. "Well, Black Knight, it's your turn to be stitched up."

"Mm, by any chance can't you get your uncle to do it?" she teased.

Jon snorted. "I stitch better than that ass no matter how famous he is in the Plastics world."

She giggled. "I was only kidding. Stitch me up, Dr. Snow." She purred.

How she switches from being adorably innocent to a seductive siren in a snap I'll never know.

Jon removed the gauze and the tapes and assessed it. "Well, you're right. It's shallow enough that you might not scar that much. And lucky for you, I only see three stitches."

Sansa started snickering then, trying to cover it with her mouth. "Now you'll tell me three stitches mean something cheesy like 'i love you.'"

Ha! If only you knew what 'three' really meant for me. He kissed her head again. "Something like that, now hold still."

He felt her hand on his waist then. She bit her lip as she looked up at him with wide eyes. "Sorry, I need to hold on to something I can squeeze later."

Jon bit back a groan as his mind started to give him filthy ideas. "S'alright."

She nodded then.

He brushed her hair away as he tilted her head up then started working.

He worked as quickly and as gently as he could, feeling her squeeze just that once in the beginning. After cutting the last stitch, he covered it with a gauze and a kiss.

"You have an incredibly light touch for someone with large hands," she beamed at him.

Jon traced her cheek then with the back of his finger. "Probably just for you."

She shook her head slowly, pressed his retreating hand back to her face, closed her eyes, and leaned in. "Mm. If you say so...Jon?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you miss me?" her voice was small and it shook while she kept her eyes shut. Why was she suddenly unsure?

"Sansa - sweetheart, will you look at me please?"

Her eyes fluttered open then and Jon sighed as he caressed her cheek. "Even now, at this second, I miss you."

Her mouth opened and there was that wrinkle between her brows again. "But I'm already here," she whispered.

Jon's mouth twitched. "I know. I can't describe it." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's just. I always want you closer. Even in our most...intimate, I still want you closer. All. the. time. I don't make sense, do I?" he chuckled.

But she didn't laugh with him as he expected.

The intensity of her stare was almost too much that he could do nothing but stare back.

This time, it was Sansa who leaned in. She wrapped her small hands to cup below his ears, her mouth a whisper above his own while her eyes were half-shut. "It makes perfect sense to me." Then she kissed him.

Hard.

Sansa didn't usually initiate kisses - and he could recall each one she did. But it was never like this - like she was filled with the same painful longing as he was. "Jon," she breathed when she broke away for air, Jon didn't stop kissing her, his lips attaching themselves back to her ear, her neck, and lower. "Please don't send me away again."

Jon looked at her then.

"I love you," her lip trembled as she said them, tears spilled from her eyes. "I love you so much Jon. I'm sorry I never - I don't." She swallowed. "I'm sorry I don't say it that -

Jon silenced her with a kiss but he was crying too. "I know. It's okay. I know. I love you so much too."

She shook her head stubbornly. "No. It's not. You say it all the time. I should too."

"Sweetheart, it's not a contest. And you say it all the time too. You don't always need words to say things."

She kissed him again and he was just as willing to oblige and return.

"Jon," she started giving him tiny pecks across his face and down his neck then collar, her hands stroking his bare chest. "Jon, make love to me."

Without a moment's hesitation, he took her in his arms and brought them both on the bed, his hands sliding her long skirt up her waist, skimming her hose covered legs. Without breaking their kiss, Sansa lifted her hips and helped him roll of her stockings followed by the slip, slide off her silk blush and damp underwear.

Jon groaned against her lips just as she answered with a moan when he felt her moist heat beneath his fingers.

"Jon, now."  She panted roughly, tugging at his belt. He helped her then and only ended up with his pants and boxers low enough to release him then entered her immediately, both of them moaning loudly.

Jon kissed her deeply then, one arm braced above her head to steady him while his other hand explored her over and under her dress as he thrusted.

It's been too long and it felt too good that Jon knew he wouldn't last long yet he tried to go as slow as he could, pulling back almost completely before pushing back all the way in.

Sansa wrapped a leg around his waist and scratched at his back so hard that if it weren't for the shirt that was still hanging open on him, she'd leave bloody marks, not that he would care.

This isn't what he planned for their reunion love making. He planned on taking her slow. Kissing every inch of her and bringing her to completion many times with just his mouth and fingers first until she could take no more and only then would he take her.

Sansa must've sensed this as she clutched him tighter. "It needn't always be gentle. I want you to fuck me Jon."

Jon gaped at her. Sansa wasn't that very vocal in bed - always struggling to keep from making too much noise and she rarely cussed.

"Say it again," he demanded, wanting to know if he didn't imagine it.

"Fuck me Jon," she practically whined, spurring him on.

"Fuck," he grunted as he hitched a leg higher and held on to it with his hand as he plunged into her faster and harder, Sansa meeting him with her hips as she pushed up at him.

He was so close so he started sucking at her neck while reaching down and rubbing at her as their hips were starting to snap at each other erratically.

"Come for me, Sansa. Come for me again sweet girl."

"Jon."

"That's it. Fuck. You feel so good, love. It's so good. It's been too long."

"J-Jon."

He felt her walls fluttering around him then as she gave out a loud cry coaxing him for his own release.

He came and spilled inside her with a roar. Both of them collapsing and panting after.

Jon rolled off her but pulled her against him so he could drop kisses on her head in between breaths.

When they were calmer, they smiled at each other languidly.

"Wow."

Sansa giggled as she traced patterns on his chest. "Happy 9th Jon," she kissed his chest."

"Happy 9th Sansa," he grinned and stroked her hair.

She looked up at him then. "Now will you tell me why you panicked earlier?"

Jon sighed. Of course Sansa wouldn't let things like this just pass. But this wasn't just things. It was the ring, the keys, and the moment he lost. Though honestly, all those felt inconsequential when he almost lost her.

"It doesn't matter."  He stroked her hair and almost laughed when she pursed her lips.

"Tell me."

He sighed again and wanted to laugh at the old gods and the new. So this is how it's going to happen, eh? Fine.

He sat up slowly then bent down to kiss her cheek, pulling on a blanket and covered her beautifully debauched body. "Wait here."

He grabbed the left over nylon thread and went under the blanket with her.

Sansa sat up with him then and eyed him curiously.

Some of the nerves came back but one look at Sansa's soft smile - the one he knew was only for him and knowing that he almost lost this forever, his resolve won over.

He took her left hand in his, making Sansa's eyes wide and shiny, her mouth parting slightly as it was dawning on her what he meant to do this night.

"Sansa, I wanted to do this differently - make it special and unforgettable but obviously, the gods kept messing with me today."

Then he slid off the bed and dropped on one knee before her, earning a gasp.

Jon looked her over, her hair was a beautiful mess, her lips were red and swollen, her skin was flushed and her green dress was barely hanging on to her, one strap already down exposing more of her creamy flesh. Now. No more waiting. He had to do it now.

"I was panicking earlier because I realized I lost the ring among other things. But that's just a ring. I'll buy you ten more - I'll buy you the whole jewelry store if that's what you want but for now...I can't wait anymore."

He paused and showed her the suture thread and she knew what he was going to do, her blue eyes already brimming with happy tears that made Jon's heart race.

"Dr. Sansa Stark, will you marry me?"

Sansa was sobbing and laughing as she kept nodding yes at him. "Yes!"

Jon grinned and leaned up to kiss her then.

They kissed for a while, their foreheads pressing together when they broke away.

Jon leant back and took her left hand again, placing it on top of her knee.

He kissed that hand before taking the thread again and positioned it around her ring finger, making her sigh happily. "One last lesson Dr. Jon Snow?"

He attempted to wink at her. "You bet."

"First of all, the initial position is crucial just as the first throw must be anchored just so," he did the first knot. "Is it too tight?"

Sansa shook her head and bit her lip as she fought from laughing.

"Good. But more importantly, you have to make sure you throw in just enough throws above it so you're sure it would hold."

"Ah. Jon, that's too much my love," she stopped him just as he made it to three knots.

Jon smiled at her sheepishly. "Can't blame a guy for wanting to tie you up snugly to him."

They both looked at the knot he tied on her finger then.

Jon thought the black thread looked so plain on her pretty finger and the image of the ring he had made kept poking at him.

"I know it's not -

It was her turn to silence him with a kiss. "I love it. And I can't believe you thought of doing a surgeon's knot on me."

Jon blushed and rubbed at his neck. "Well...Casterly." Was his only explanation, followed by showing her the keychain with the tied knot she hasn't seen since she gave it to him almost six years ago.

She looked at him in shock. "You still kept this? It's been six years!"

"Well, in all honestly, you kept it first for nearly a decade."

"Gods, we're so stupid aren't we?"

Jon laughed all out then and grabbed her hand. "I'm just happy we're here now."

"So all this. Asking me to wear something nice and meet you on the rooftop, you really meant to propose?"

"Didn't you expect it even a little bit?"

"You know I'm bad with expectations. But I knew you wanted to do a special and over the top dinner  - but not this - but now I'm starting to think maybe I should've. I mean dinner at the place where we first kissed? Where we finally got together?"

"Sansa."

"What?"

"Shut up."

A grin spread slowly on both their faces as they started reaching for each other again.

This time, they were completely bare and under the scratchy blanket, writhing against each other on top of the creaky cot inside their stuffy on call room.

But before they could go further a booming knock interrupted them and Jon cursed knowing they didn't bother to lock the door.

"Are you guys done yet?"

Val.

Jon groaned while Sansa looked horrified.

"Maybe they'll go away if we ignore them," Jon reached for her again but Sansa swatted him and started pulling her clothes back on.

"Come on, wrap it up so we can have it clean again. Some of us do use this more than just to fuck." Tormund.

Jon reluctantly sat up and slowly started dressing. Let them wait. I've had to put up with theirs. But the next voice made him bolt upright.

"I'm going in."

Jon and Sansa dressed at record speed then when they heard Rhaenys' voice.

And then there she was.

"My, my, my. Baby brother and my Baby girl making babies already. I'd hug you both but you both reek of sex and surgery," Jon's gorgeous older sister was standing in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips, looking at them like a mother busting her children. She looked at her former younger colleague in Visenya Hill Medical. "So should I set you up with an appointment with me, Sunshine? Sometime in the next two weeks? Did you do the position I told you about to make sure babies?"

"Rhaenys!" Sansa turned beet red and Rhaenys noticed her finger.

She turned on Jon then and raised a brow. "Baby brother. I'd congratulate you both but this can't be. You do this right. I told you to treat Sansa like a queen."

"Rhaenys, it's okay. It doesn't matter," Sansa meant to argue some more but Rhaenys simply raised her brows at her, then turned to Jon again.

"I lost the ring," Jon finally admitted, hanging his head.

Rhaenys grinned then and called for Tormund to come inside and once he did, Jon saw that his coat was draped on his arm. "The box is inside too where you left it," he barked as he handed it back to Jon.

"Now here's what's going to happen.I know Sansa already said yes to your silly but yes romantic knot tying, but now that all the shit has already happened tonight, you two heroes deserve the night you were meant to have. So now, Jon, go and follow Tormund while I make Sansa even more drop dead gorgeous."

She walked over to Jon and poked his arm. "You do this right or I swear I'll shave your hair off."

Jon cringed then couldn't do anything but agree.

"Meet you on the roof?" he threw over his shoulder.

"You know I'll be there." Sansa said sweetly.

"Okay, break it up. More of that later."

Sansa blew him a kiss then while Jon grinned at her before he was shoved off the room where Sansa could hear he was greeted with hoots and whistles.

She looked back and Rhaenys was already pulling out a dress from the carrier she had. Sansa's heart picked up when she saw it was white.

"Okay, my Cinderella. Let your fairy good-sister work her magic on you but I hope you don't mind if my reinforcements are not mice or a duck."

"Eww, this room stinks of sex.'

"Arya."

Sansa turned around then and saw her mother and her sister bickering.

"Mom! Arya - what are you-

Catelyn pulled her into a hug that Sansa reddened some more knowing she smelled of Jon but her mother didn't think any of it as she hugged her tight. "We saw the news, darling girl. Everyone is here," Catelyn explained. "We almost lost you - he almost lost you. It's time darling."

"W-what?" She looked at the white gown Rhaenys was holding up.

"Oh no, not this yet," she said, her eyes twinkling when she caught Sansa looking at the dress.

Arya chuckled as she smirked at her, giving her a half hug and a nose wrinkle. "You're gonna have a record breaking shortest engagement ever, Sans."

"Need an extra pair of hands?"

"Dr. Targaryen!"

"Please, it's Elia, or if you would prefer, you can call me mother too. And here's your dress."

"What is happening?" Sansa threw her hands in the air, her skin looking perpetually flushed from both embarrassment and from Jon and then she saw that they were all wearing gowns too - even Arya.

The women all laughed in answer, pushing her out the room and towards the female locker room.

"Everything, my sweet," Dr. Elia Martell-Targaryen crooned before shutting the door behind them.

If the trauma surgeon fails to construct secure knots at the beginning or the end of the laceration, knot slippage will occur, resulting in wound dehiscence.

Shock was the understatement of the night but this night has been a series of 'not-this-way-Jon' enough for him to question anything. And now he was in one of the doctor's lounge with the Prime Minister, the Northern Governor, the Major General of the Northern Army, and the Lieutenant General of the Airforce.

Or rather, Jon's father, Sansa's father Ned, her older brother Robb, and Jon's older brother Aegon.

Bran and Rickon were here too and somehow Jon felt all kinds of anxiety.

Thank the Gods that it was Aegon he saw first who pushed him into taking a shower then handed him a new suit - black this time and surprisingly, a white button-down and not red.

When he was dressed and groomed, Aegon tossed the ring box at him and smirked. "Didn't know you had it in you, little brother. Sansa Stark is too good for you," he teased.

Jon grumbled. "Don't I know it."

"Hey, just kidding. You know I tried asking her out more than once. She turned me down each time."

Jon raised his brows at him.

Aegon shook his head while laughing, his long silver hair swishing as he did. Jon couldn't believe it. Girls usually fell for his older brother, often using him to get to Aegon. And now he can't stop the smug look that was building at the thought that she chose him over his pretty brother.

Aegon rolled his eyes at him. "Don't look too smug."

"Can't you just give me a few more seconds to gloat?"

He snorted. "No. You don't have time. Everyone's here," he grinned impishly at Jon.

Jon stopped smiling. "Everyone?"

"Yes. Including the wolf pack. Ready to join your new leader? Oh and you're welcome by the way. Ned and Rhaegar wanted to come get you from the on-call room. Good thing Val warned me."

"Shit." Aegon laughed. "Why?"

Aegon didn't answer and just said "Good luck, bro," before shoving him inside the lounge.

Jon couldn't contain his shock when he saw all of them with matching smiles on their faces. And there he knew at once that Rhaenys Targaryen and Ned Stark could not keep a secret.

He had ask Ned months ago for his blessing and then he remembered telling his father that he was going to marry Sansa one day but didn't say when. Wait, maybe Ned did keep his word and it was Rhaenys who told the rest.

But why were they here - all here and now.

Rhaegar strode over then and clapped his back. "I hear congratulations are in order."

"How did you - Rhaenys?"

He chuckled.

"Still doesn't explain why you are all here. This is my night to propose. It was meant to be private."

"Well, considering we almost lost the two of you today - oh come on, we know what you would be if anything happens to her. Anyway, son. We've all waited long enough."

"But - I was just planning..." Jon's eyes grew wide when he saw everyone looking at him with matching knowing grins - all of them were in either suits or in full decorated mess dress uniforms.

Tormund went inside then, still in his scrubs as he eyed him then broke into a laugh. "Finally caught on?"

Aegon snickered and elbowed their father. "I think he gets it now."

Jon still couldn't believe it. "But...you don't think it's too soon? I mean, I barely got her to move in with me. I was planning on giving her a long engagement," he started rambling in panic. It was true. He just planned to propose knowing he wouldn't rush her to the altar even if he wanted to. He'd give her all the time she needed. He just wants her to know how serious he was with her and get her to accept that. And now they were all here and telling him that it was time.

What if she says no?

She already said yes.

Robb and Ned exchanged looks before Robb moved forward, his medals clinking as he walked. "I'm sorry Jon. Were we misinformed? Didn't you already ask her...earlier?" He said with a hint of a teasing frown when he said earlier and Jon wanted the ground to swallow him up.

Yes, he and Sansa had unprofessionally used the on-call room to... consummate their reunion. But in his defense, it was the start of the Night shift and how was he to know that his family and hers would be here to see the most awkward - and not to mention, dangerous walk of shame in the history of the world (Aside from Ned and Robb,  Arya was in special ops. But most of all Senator Catelyn Tully-Stark was here and she could cut you with just a look. Seven hells, they could still call the Blackfish who was the Admiral.)

Not even his father or brother could save him from the wolves - never mind that he was half. Though Rhaenys might've had a chance, but she probably loved Sansa more than she did him.

You do this right. I told you to treat Sansa like a queen.

Having a quickie in the on call room was not royal treatment especially since she was injured. Fuck.

Robb laughed again though his nose wrinkled too. "We're not too keen on how we...found you two, but since my baby sister is alive and happy we all decided that we want her to stay alive and happy and while we are completely convinced she is capable of the former, we all know she can only get the latter if she's with you. And from what we heard, she agreed to spending the rest of her life with you."

"But -

Robb sighed then. "Come on Jon. You two are already living together. And if I know Sansa, she's not like the rest of us. Not a reckless bone in her body. Plenty stubborn but she doesn't just dive unless it's a sure thing."

Hearing that made Jon feel warm and light. He knew that of course, but it certainly helped to hear somebody else say it. But there was just one more thing that's stopping him. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at each of them.

"I know. I want to but I also want to give her the wedding she wants - a wedding she deserves," he said slowly. "Even if the planning takes months - years."

Some of the men groaned, some sighed, some laughed but Rhaegar frowned at Jon and frankly looked insulted.

"I don't know where I'm most insulted. That you think you'll get married here or that none of us - especially me could pull together something less than ostentatious? No. We're just here giving you time to get the proposal you planned out of the way before we fly the two of you to White Harbor."

Jon gaped and his handsome father smirked, indigo eyes flashing and he looked at Aegon.

Aegon whipped out the two-way radio we used when we were younger. "Dragon 2 to Dragon 1, do you read? Over."

"Dragon 1 here. Affirmative in that. Go ahead. Over."

Aegon grinned. "Update on Red Wolf. Over."

"Red Wolf will be up in 300 seconds, do you copy?"

"Roger on that. Dispatching the Ice Dragon. Over."

"Good. Dragon 1 over and out."

Aegon smirked at him. "Well, soldier, what are you waiting for?"

Jon grinned and gave them a salute before sprinting out but not before getting butt whacked by everyone.

When Jon reached the rooftop, the food he knew that grew cold was already gone and replaced instead with a bottle of vintage red, and a plate of fresh new lemon cakes and everywhere there were new winter roses.

Jon took out the box then and reassured himself that the ring was still there and when he saw it he let out a relieved breath.

Checking his watch it was already half past two in the morning.

"Jon?"

He froze for a moment before turning around, his jaw dropping when he saw Sansa.

Sansa was wearing a blue dress that was a shade darker than her eyes under a white fur trimmed coat that complemented her still flushed skin. Her hair was half-up in an intricate braid and flowed down in gentle waves and curled at the ends while her makeup was redone but subtle. Just a hint of cream on her eyes, and pink a shade darker than her natural color on her lips but the blush she carried was natural.

He looked down at her clasped hands and saw that the knot he tied around her finger was still there.

When he looked back up at her she was smiling so softly while her eyes were incredibly tender.

Jon walked over to her and took her hand, leading her slowly near the edge so they could see the dock and the Bay of Seals below.

Sansa looked around, gazing in wonder at how Jon transformed the roof top. And when she looked back at Jon he was looking at her so intently, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Jon?"

Jon shook his head. "Let me do this right, Sansa."

Sansa wanted to say something but seeing the expression Jon wore, she nodded and waited.

"Sansa, I know it seems so fast but the more I think about it - think about us, we're almost two decades in the making. Do you know when it started for me?"

Sansa shook her head.

Jon nodded and fingered the knot on her finger. "Sixteen years ago in Highgarden, I saw a pretty girl with a long red braid, struggling with her knot tying."

"Oh Jon -

He shook his head. "Let me finish. Sansa, three times. Sixteen years and we only had three important dates." He chuckled. "Can you imagine? Just three but those three moments meant so much to me."

"Three. Highgarden. Casterly. King's Landing. All three were by chance and in all three you were tying knots."

Sansa smiled so tenderly at him, tilting her head as her eyes swam with emotion.

"Each of them were by chance. And each of them involved knots. Do you remember?"

She grinned and nodded.

"I can still remember when I taught you how to tie your first surgeon's knot. You were a quick study and you did so with finesse it's amazing. While you beautifully tied your first knot in me, I believe I didn't follow my own advice. Because I was too dense to see that I should've secured my knot with you from there. And then nine years later, Casterly," he sighed.

"You did it again. Tied another knot but I couldn't do the same because you were with someone else then," he stroked her hair remembering how it was shorn then as a sign of dedication to her residency training.

Sansa frowned and looked at him apologetically. Jon leant his forehead against hers and shook his head. "Then I had another chance three years after in King's Landing. You don't know how much I wanted to kiss you then."

"Why didn't you? I mean when we were at my doorstep, it could've happened."

"Because I knew I wanted more than just a night with you. No, let me finish. A part of me reasoned to take what I could because what if that was all I could get? But the more reasonable part of me knew that if I want anything with you, it has to be more - it has to be all.  And we couldn't have that then. Because I was from King's Landing and I ran North to make a name for myself, just as you were from the North and you left to pave your own path too. We were running in different directions. And...it was the first time I saw you free and happy and I knew from Rhaenys that you were thriving there. I wasn't ready to come back to the capital and I wouldn't want to keep you from where you were too. And though I'd try long-distance, I'll be honest enough that I can't do that. I barely made it a week when you left for Volantis but it was your promise that it was only temporary that got me through it," he cupped her face. "So I thought that maybe it was time to move on since every time it wasn't the right timing - maybe it wasn't meant to be. That time I thought you finally closed with a final knot."

"So imagine my surprise when my father called, telling me that Ned Stark's golden daughter was joining the staff here - here in this dingy hospital, telling me to look out for her and make her feel welcome. I didn't believe it until the day I actually saw you here. Sansa Stark was here and was staying. I didn't know how to handle it and you even lived across from me! I thought I've moved on but then I fell for you again - or maybe it was never lost but the moment I knew I couldn't wait anymore. Do you remember that night? The one where there was an accident at Castle Black?"

She blushed and nodded.

"I found you here like I did back then in Casterly. Exhausted and underappreciated. I wanted nothing more but to rectify that."

"You ambushed me with a kiss!" she narrowed her eyes at him playfully.

"Hey I waited sixteen years for that kiss," he smirked then his expression softened. "I wasn't going to allow myself to be stupid any longer. I knew I had to do it - had to tell you I wanted to be with you. I told myself that day that, Sansa Stark was a capable woman who would make all her dreams into reality. A strong woman that doesn't need protection yet I found myself wanting to try anyway. I just want to be part of it - part of you. Part of something that's so amazing and beautiful."

Jon gripped her hand. "With you there's no middle ground. I give you a grain, you give me a harvest. I give you a harvest, and you only take a grain. It's incredibly frustrating and unfair but I understand why you do this. I see it all the time. It's how you treat, it's how you heal, it's how you save," he paused, choking a bit as he cupped her face with both hands.

"Sansa, you always give the best of yourself in everything but for some reason you can't get it past this beautiful stubborn heard of yours to accept praise and recognition. You always say that you're just doing your job and that you always always want to do more. I get it. But love, you have to accept some of the returns too. You can take too. So I'll keep giving you the harvest and let you take as much as you are willing until you're comfortable enough to take it whole too."

"Three knots you gave me and not once was I able to tie one on you that was secure enough. Now I'm going to give you back three tonight but you have to close those knots yourself."

He opened her palm and dropped two sets of matching keys - all tied with surgical knots identical to the one she gave him years ago. Sansa looked up at him in question while he just smiled and pointed to the first set. "These are keys to our clinic in New Castle Pres. I've already given my notice for Eastwatch. I'm still an affiliate but my main practice is in White Harbor."

Sansa's hand flew to her mouth. "But Jon -

He shook his head and pointed at the other set of keys. "Now these ones... okay, Sansa don't freak out, okay? We still own our unit at the Gift but I gave up our apartment in White Harbor. I know it's a big step but ever since you've agreed to move in with me, I've wanted to give you a house - a real one. It's a big house that's pricy but I wanted one where you can have a view of the port and the river and have a garden too. I made sure the kitchen is complete - it's so big. We have a porch, a yard... and it's...the part of the old Wolf's Den and you can change anything you want - we can even move. I'll let you choose. Anywhere, my love. But for now, if you want it, we have our own house. I've already moved our things there. I made sure it was ready before you come back."

"And lastly..."

Jon went down on one knee then and took out the black box, opening it and showing Sansa his final knot. "I know you already said yes, but now I'm asking more of you, more than I ever asked of you before.

He rubbed her left hand with his thumb. "Sansa Stark, will you start a new life with me today?"

Sansa flung herself to him then, sobbing and nodding. "Yes. Yes, I will. I don't want to wait either."

Jon smiled like he never smiled before as tears pricked at his eyes. "Hold on - let me put this on you."

Sansa pulled away then and extended her hand.

"There's no backing out of this Stark. I assure you, I've had years of practice tying knots and once this one is -

"Put a ring on it, Snow."

He grinned as he slipped the ring on top of the knot he tied earlier on her finger, kissed her hand then kissed her.

They stood there wrapped around each other as they lost themselves in the moment.

When they pulled away, they were smiling brightly.

"Just for the record, you did say yes to marrying me today right?"

Sansa laughed. "Yes, silly. My family and yours made that very clear to me that it was happening today."

Jon was about to tell her that he doesn't care what they think that they'd marry when she wants of her own free will when she cut him off.

"Besides, I'd like that when you carry me over the threshold of our new home, I'd be Mrs. Sansa Snow in White Harbor," she looked up at him.

Jon choked again and he was crying within seconds.

Sansa was crying too but she was smiling and laughing as she kissed away Jon's tears. "I love you Jon."

Jon crushed her to him then. "I love you too. So so so much Sansa."

Sansa looked up at him from her lashes. "Jon?"

He brushed her hair behind her ear. "Yes?"

"Thank you for saving me."

Jon stared at her. "Sans-

"You did. Time and time again. Even when I didn't want to. Even when I didn't even know I needed to be."

Jon let out a breath then and smiled at her, tracing a finger down her cheek. "It's only right I keep trying. You save me too. Not only my life is tethered to yours, but someone who saves so many lives need to live longer."

She beamed then blinked. "But Jon, you're leaving Eastwatch -"

"And you left King's Landing" Jon countered.

"But -

"White Harbor is in the middle, don't you think? The best of both worlds? It's still in the North but it's near the South. It has a dock, and it has an airport in case we need to go away."

"And now it has you," Sansa beamed. "That's enough for me."

"Of course I'm there because you will be. Where you go, I go. I've learned my lesson."

She laughed. "Well, it's time n-whoa!"

Jon swept her up in his arms then. "To the altar - stat!"

"Ugh, you're so cheesy!"

Jon laughed at her then and nodded at Aegon and Robb who were waiting by the door, with Robb holding it open for them and Aegon speaking on the two way again when the P.A. system called out.

"Paging Dr. Jon Snow and Dr. Sansa Stark, please proceed to White Harbor for your wedding. Congratulations."

#jonsa #jon snow #Sansa Stark #jon snow x sansa stark #fanfiction #modern westeros #happyending #modern AU #doctors AU #engagement #hospital setting #fluff and smut #ladymdfic

[ladywolfmd]

Carpe Diem! 

Map for Carpe Diem: The Night is Young and So are We

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11242809/chapters/25127670

#jonsa #fanfiction #jon snow #sansa stark #ladymdfic

[ladywolfmd]

Ad Curare Interdum

Summary: 

“Ad curare interdum, saepe tractare, ut consolarer semper… To cure sometimes, to treat often, to comfort always." - Hippocrates

"And then there’s only one more thing you can do – must do. First, you take your hands off.Next, you call it." - Dr. Snow

Part 2 of Medicus:

Dr. Jon Snow is a Trauma surgeon at EVMMC on Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, while Dr. Sansa Stark, is the new Neurosurgeon on board as well as the newly appointed deputy chief of surgery, and also, his girlfriend of three months. An unfortunate loss, a teaching moment, and realizations in and outside the hospital life with all the drama and controversy in between work, brings the couple closer, with Dr. Jon Snow teaching us that being a doctor is so much more than knowing how to save a life - all while trying to build one for Sansa and himself - all while trying to build one for Sansa and himself.

Jon

Esplanade, The Gift

12:30pm

I placed my keys in the fishbowl, hung my coat, dropped my duffel bag near the couch, and kicked off my shoes, my eyes seeking out any sign of Sansa.

Seeing her keys, coat, bag, and shoes, I let out a sigh of relief and felt a smile reach my face, knowing that she would be staying the night.

It's only been three months since we started going out and already I've been burning for her to move in.

Well, at least she accepted the keys though it's only been these past two weeks that she's been using them, but that counts like a real victory for me.

One drawer at a time then Jon.

I'm probably the biggest sap in the world but I wanted her around all the time. Not like we had that much time together anyway. Though I’ve had my share of work load, it was nothing compared to hers. I frowned, recalling yet another of the countless arguments we’ve had about her cutting off some work but she could be as stubborn as the Wall itself so I haven’t had that much victory on that part.

I scanned my apartment then and from the quiet and the lights being off, she was likely sleeping on my bed. I couldn’t help but swallow a groan at the thought of her sprawled peacefully on my sheets, her beautiful red hair spread over my pillows. Shaking my head, I carried on as quiet as possible so as not to wake her. I wanted nothing but to sneak inside and crawl beside her but I needed to stow away the food I brought as well as shower and change out of my work clothes, cursing that I should’ve done that before I left but I was too eager to come home. Ghost and Lady, our Siberian Huskies, were probably at her apartment which meant I really do have her to myself tonight. I grinned. I'll make sure to check on them later though.

I walked towards my kitchen then, and placed the casserole, Gilly, the wife of my Cardiologist friend made, on top of the island counter beside something that easily made me smile.

On top of the counter, under a glass cover were an assortment of cookies with a small note on heating instructions (because she knew I liked them hot and moist), as well as a short message that made my heart skip a beat, written in her elegant script that was far mythical a skill for us doctors.

Dr. Snow,

In case I'm still asleep by the time you come in, help yourself to these and wake me.

Also, I might’ve missed you a bit today. Just a little bit. ;)

Dr. Stark

I couldn’t help but shake my head and laugh. On top of being this gifted neurosurgeon that Eastwatch Med did not deserve, she bakes. And quite deliciously too.  She probably baked these right after she came in from the hospital around eleven last night after her shift. I learned that most nights after her midday shifts, her mind was too buzzed to sleep right away despite her protesting body, so she would usually bake to relax before she turns in.

Slipping the note inside my pocket, I lifted the cover and went to heat up a couple of the cookies.

As I set the timer and waited, my mind drifted from thinking of getting a nicer oven and buying baking tools and ingredients with the hope that maybe she’d want to come over more and bake here instead (and what a vision it would be to watch her bake –or eat, or drink, or – anything. She was just so fascinating to watch and I don’t even get the privilege enough to see her as much as I wanted to. Which is pretty much every damned second). But I knew that she’d frown and look at me like I had the mistake to call out an abdominal mass as cancerous and not the swell of a pregnant womb.

I can just hear it now.

“Why? My kitchen is across the hall from yours. You don’t need all those stuff. You don’t even bake! If you want more cookies, you can just say so and I’ll make them and bring them over.”

She’d say and then poke me while rolling her eyes as if it was something as obvious. I sighed.

Both of us could be damn dense at times.

I jumped when I heard a yawn behind me. Whipping my head back quickly, I saw Sansa leaning on the kitchen entrance, rubbing her eyes and yawning once more, looking all adorable and sexy in nothing but an oversized sweatshirt that probably belonged to her brother as it had Winterfell Wolves on it, her long white legs on display.

I walked over to her and brought her to me at once, depositing a kiss on the crown of her head and breathing her in. I held her to me a little longer and she let me, as she always did, her own arms wrapping themselves around my middle.

She wasn't overtly affectionate, preferring to be reserved with hers in public, but she lets me. She always lets me hold her for as long as I want.

I pulled away reluctantly, smiled at ccher, studying her sleepy form and tucking strands of her mussed up hair away from her face before giving her a chaste kiss.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you sweetheart?” I caressed her cheek before letting go and settling my hands on her waist.

She smiled at me and shook her head. “Not really. Well… kind of?” She blushed and smiled at me sheepishly.

I kissed her again, just once and quickly. “Sorry. I wanted to crawl to you right away but I kinda have to shower…then I saw these,” I nodded at the cookies. “I had to have some right away. Thank you, by the way.”

She blushed again and ducked her head. “It’s fine. And you’re welcome. But it’s not a big deal. You know I do that all the time when my mind’s too busy to heed sleep,” she smirked at me.

I kissed her nose. “I know. But it’s still nice. You’re nice. And you look nice,” I started saying in between tiny kisses across her face.

She snorted then giggled as she tilted her head to give me more access. “This old thing? It’s Robb’s. Don’t tell him I have it though. It’s his favorite but it’s just so soft and warm I had to nick it off him after he lent it to me once.”

I began kissing behind her ear as I tugged at the mentioned sweater. “You can always wear one of mine if he takes it back,” I offered, downplaying how much I wanted nothing but for her to wear anything of mine (she hasn’t yet, not even a shirt), most of all, I wanted her to wear my name for gods’ sake. Keep it together, Jon. Or you'll scare her away!

She just laughed then pushed me off so she could give me that playful look of hers. “Or…I could just… get rid off it and never wear it back. To seven hells with the sweater. What do you think, Snow?”

I groaned and pressed my forehead against hers while pulling her flush to me. I wanted nothing more but to ravage her but despite her playful…mood, I knew she was doing this more for my benefit than hers.

She had shadows under her eyes and I felt her catch herself from yawning again. She was still tired and we don’t need to rush today.

“As tempting as that would be, Stark. You need to sleep some more,” I pulled away slightly but kept my hands on her waist.

She sighed and bit her lip, but I could see that she was grateful. “Are you sure? I don’t mind…” she smiled again.

Gods, just marry me already.

I let out a breath dramatically and pushed her lightly towards the bedroom. “Go, before I change my mind. Anyway, I need you well rested, Stark. We have all night.”

She dug in her heels and turned around, smiling at me wickedly, “Oh, do we, now?”

“Just go, Stark. At least, lie down while I heat up the casserole Gilly made for us. I’ll wake you up, feed you, and put you back to sleep.”

She arched a brow but didn’t protest. “Will that be all, Dr. Snow?” she batted her eye lashes at me.

I should be getting a damned medal for this.

I nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes. Doctor’s orders.”

She pouted then. Oh no. “Don’t I get another dose of you? Preferably given per orem?”

I groaned. “Later. Go.”

She laughed then. “Fine.”

OR 5, Eastwatch-by-the-Sea Veterans Memorial Medical Center

1:30pm

I carefully dropped the ligated appendix on the basin while Olly, my intern, started irrigating the wound.

Grasping the peritoneum with two straight clamps, I shifted my hold so Daeron could hand me a 3-0 poly so I could start closing. After I sutured the peritoneum, I approximated the first layer of muscle and turned to look at Olly while I started stitching.

“Is this your first time to see an appendectomy?”

He shook his head. “No sir. But it’s only the third I’ve seen and I have to say, sir, it’s the fastest I’ve witnessed for an open one.”

I smiled at him though I knew he couldn’t see with my mask on, and nodded. “I see. Dr. Cerwyn usually does a lap. But can you tell me why we didn’t opt for that?” Eastwatch Med was certainly no training hospital because we don’t reach the case quota for most departments, but we do accept interns on their last year of medschool for their emergency medicine rotations, and the occasional moonlighters. And I make it a point to teach them somehow. We’re relatively more benign than other hospitals so there was time for this. Well, except Sansa’s department of course.

“Based on the history sir, our patient had two previous abdominal surgeries prior to this. First was an emergency cholecystectomy, another was a mesh repair for hernia,” he answered a little nervously as he adjusted the retractors and suctioned to clear my field better.

“Very good. Why is having previous surgeries a contraindication for using a lap?” I asked him next.

“Because we’d expect anatomical changes as well as adhesions, sir,” he answered more confidently.

“Good,” I nodded at him as I did the last stitch then nodded at Daeron to hand the next 3-0 to Olly who looked at me with complete surprise.

“Sir?”

I took the retractors from him and the suction, nodding at him to take over the stitching. “You’ve earned the right to close from here. It’s not much but every little new participation is always a step closer to being a surgeon. If that’s what you were planning, that is.”

I could tell he was grinning from the excited gleam in his eyes. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Go on. And maybe I’ll let you ligate the next time, if you’re up for it,” I nodded at him.

“I’ll do my best. Thank you Dr. Snow,” he said happily before starting his suture.

I watched him carefully, instructing him when needed, praising when appropriate, and reinstructing him when warranted. Olly reminded me of myself. He was quiet, too serious, but eager to learn and prove himself. Though the difference was that, he had a hard life, and he barely scraped through school but despite that he was certainly passionate. Sansa often gushed about this intern from The Gift who was respectful, hardworking, and showed great promise.

“Nonsense. You’re the hardest working intern here. A hardworking intern deserves more opportunities. At least, that’s what Dr. Stark says.”

The tips of his ears and the back of his neck were suddenly flushed red.

Oh.

“What specialty do you see yourself in?”

He thought for a while before answering shyly, the red on his ears darkening. “Neurosurgery, sir.”

I couldn’t help the chuckle then. I can’t wait to tell Sansa about this. “Well, then I best tell Dr. Stark to take you under her wing some more. She’ll be happy to hear this.”

I heard a snort and I just knew it came with an eye roll from Daeron. Things have been easier for Sansa somehow, finding friends with Gilly, Sam, Satin, and my Trauma team, of course. But for the others… apparently dating me only made them hate her more and, yes, they were starting to hate me as well. It was only by Sansa’s grace that I kept silent, otherwise they’d be hearing a lot from me.

“I don’t want to trouble Dr. Stark. She’s so busy as it is. I don’t want to burden her.”

I sighed. “She is busy, but she always tries to repay dedication and hard work where it’s warranted. Just show her that you’re willing to learn and she’ll gladly help you.”

He simply nodded while working but after a pause he asked. “Sir?”

“Yes, Olly?”

“I – I tried giving her coffee once. She took it and smiled at me but… I don’t think she particularly liked the brew I gave her. Do you… know how she likes it?”

I laughed again. “Are you hitting on my girlfriend, Dr. Marsh?” Castle Black’s First Steward, Bowen Marsh’s brother was the one who adopted him when Olly’s parents died.

He looked up at me then with a frantic look on his eyes and shook his head vehemently. “No sir, I just – Dr. Stark must be tired all the time even if she hides it well. I just want to help.”

“I’m just jesting, Olly. Don’t take it personally, Dr. Stark usually times her caffeine intake when it’s best for her. She probably had a surgery scheduled soon that time and she purposefully held out on anything that would compromise her dexterity,” I explained.

He looked quite impressed and I couldn’t blame him. I was too when I tried giving her coffee like he did and she politely declined. “Wow. She’s so smart. I’d never think about something like that.”

“Well, if you really want to help her, just make sure you do your pre-rounds and impress her by giving her pertinent summaries of her patients. That and give her lemon cakes and I promise she’ll eat that at one point in the day,” I winked.

“Thanks sir, I’ll remember that,” he said happily.

After a while, I decided to ask. “Olly? What’s it like to work with Dr. Stark? Does she work you like a mule or does she hardly make you touch anything?”

“Oh! Dr. Stark is very kind. She follows a strict system though and has a standard and a methodology that I’m still trying to learn by heart so I won’t delay her time during rounds, but she does this too. Tries to squeeze in teaching rounds. And explain. She frowns a bit when her orders aren’t met or were delayed, but she never makes a big deal out of it and just troubleshoots. Though… I know she’s always been hands on, but she doesn’t have to do some of the scut work,” he confessed.

That bothered me. “Scut work?”

He nodded and I saw Daeron fidget uncomfortably. “Yes. Sometimes, they page her for an IV insertion, for a Mannitol push, an urgent abstract… things that I think us interns or some nurses could do for her.”

Now that angered me. “Is that so?” I said in a low voice, trying to muster all the calmness as possible while trying not to look at Daeron.

Dr. Larence Hornwood, the anesthesiologist exchanged a look with me though. He wasn’t exactly close with any of us, but he was one of the good guys who took our side. He did his best to assist Sansa as much as possible.

“I tried asking the staff nurses to give me the scut work when I’m under her service, but they kept telling me that Dr. Stark was very specific, that she hardly wants anyone to touch her patients. But when I bit the bullet and did some of them anyway, I was ready for Dr. Stark to get mad at me but she only looked at me with surprise and thanked me with chocolate muffins the next day, so I try to help as much as I could and I urge the other interns to do the same,” he continued.

I counted to ten before answering. My anger abating somewhat at Olly’s thoughtfulness.   He really was a good kid and I've always wanted a younger brother. Instead I had two older nosy siblings with varied tempers but fierce loyalties. I smirked. “That’s very nice of you, Olly. I’m sure Dr. Stark appreciates it. Thank you. So…Dr. Stark… isn’t… cold? Or easily crossed?”

He shook his head. “Oh no, sir. Sure, Dr. Stark is serious all the time but she’s gentle and polite, and she does smile at us from time to time. I reckon she’s just really busy, sir. But I’ve never seen her get mad. Displeased, yes. But I’ve never heard her raise her voice.”

“I see. Hey, you’re done.”

He looked up at me then. “Wow. I still can’t believe it.”

He was about to clean up and put the bandages when I stopped him. “Go write up the OR tech and I’ll check. I’ll let you sign beside my name if you get it right. I’m sure sir Daeron can take it from here.”

He nodded an ungloved. “Thank you sir.”

I nodded and finally met Daeron with a glare.

He squirmed then sighed. “Hey, I may not like her still but I do my job – all of it. And I do respect her. But I can only speak for myself.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder. Larence shook his head. “Not here. I know how you must be feeling. It’s sick. But this is the North, Jon. They’ll warm up eventually. And Sansa is a tough girl. I’ll help her out where I can but you can’t just beat up everyone no matter how much I want to do it too.” Larence knew what it felt like, being a prisoner to his name and family too, having recently been elevated as the Hornwood heir following the death of his half-brother, Daryn. Hells, the three of us should start a club.

I let out a frustrated breath. “Fine.”

After scrubbing out, I was met by a very incensed Gilly who has apparently, been waiting for me.

And let me tell you, I’ve never seen an incensed Gilly, more so a very incensed one.

“Oh thank gods!” She exclaimed while grabbing my arm and dragging me to the empty stairwell. For someone so petite, she had a fairly strong grip. The outcome of lifting patients at the OBGYN/ORTHO ward where she was the charge nurse of.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

She placed her hands on her hips and glared at me furiously. “You need to do something!” She poked at my chest. “It’s gone far enough!”

“First of all, ouch. Second, can you calm down for a bloody second and tell me what you’re talking about?” I said while rubbing at my chest and blocking her hands.

She took a deep breath then and looked at me sadly, but her eyes still blazed. “Have you seen Sansa yet? Or heard anything?”

I was filled at once with worry and rage the moment Sansa left her mouth. “What is it? What happened? Is she okay? Is she hurt?”

She frowned then and I almost tore out the room, promising bloody murder regardless of the sentence, praying that whoever wronged Sansa this time, deserved it after I dump their bodies on the bay. But before I could get a foot out, Gilly grabbed me again.

“What happened?”

“It was awful, Jon. I was pulled out to assist in Sansa’s surgery. She…lost a patient today and everyone kept rubbing it in her face that it was her fault, that she didn’t try enough, that she wasn’t perfect after all. And bloody fuck, Jon, I’ve never seen Sansa cry. Ever. But after she finished the order, talked to the relatives, and signed the paper works, her eyes were all watery but she thanked the bloody arseholes and left without another word. After I finished my work, I rushed to see her, and found her inside her office, crying. Like, really crying, like sobbing. I went inside and she stopped immediately and tried to regain composure but I hugged her and told her to let it all out and she finally did,” she recalled sadly.

I couldn’t speak or move. Letting it all sink, still not believing that Sansa was crying.

“When she was calm, she begged me not to tell anyone, most of all you. I didn’t promise anything, but I helped her fix herself before she went back to work again. I made sure she didn’t look like she cried. I don’t want to give the arses the satisfaction but seriously, Jon. This has to stop,” she huffed in frustration. “I know she doesn’t want to do anything but she so doesn’t deserve this.”

“Where – where is she?” I demanded.

She sighed. “Last I checked, she had a craniotomy scheduled. She’s probably two hours in. What are we going to do, Jon?”

I looked at her then, very grateful that there was someone else who worried over Sansa. I smiled tightly at her. “Thank you for telling me Gilly. And thank you for being there for Sansa. Leave it to me.”

She smiled back. “Of course. She’s my friend too.” Then her face fell and she was clearly debating on something.

“Gilly, what is it? There’s more, isn’t there?”

She frowned and sighed. “Yes… what really pushed her over the edge… was that… well, you guys are dating right?”

I shut up at once and nodded grimly knowing where this was headed.

“And well… everyone knows your…father…had a hand in, well, you know,” she struggled.

“What did they say, exactly?” I said, hoping it didn’t come off as too snappy.

She studied me before hesitantly asking. “Are you sure you don’t want…an edited version?”

I shook my head. “Just tell me, please.”

She sighed before looking me in the eye. “Wait, just so you know, this has been apparently going on for some time now, only they were very careful not to mention it to me or anyone close to you. I was able to get Sansa to admit to me that this wasn’t the first time she’s heard it.”

“Well, what is it? Please! I’m going out of my mind!”

“It’s not enough for her to mount the biggest dragon in King’s Landing, she has to mount another here too? But only the best for Dr. Sansa Stark, right? But who could blame the Targaryens? They have a particular fondness for Stark girls after all.”

I saw red.

I pulled my fist and started to nock my arm and hit the wall then storm off seeking blood when Gilly grabbed at me.

“Let me go! Let me go so help me! I’ll kill them all!”

“Jon, don’t! First of all, you won’t help anyone by destroying your hands! Second, think of Sansa –

“I am thinking of her!” I growled.

“I meant, think of what this will do to her. Come on, be rational. You can set things right but not through violence,” she said more forcefully. “And if you destroy your hands, damn it, you’d be out of work.”

I took deep breaths and settled on kicking the wall, embracing the pain, bracing my palms on the wall as I calmed myself. Suddenly all the snide remarks I’ve been getting about how I was a bloody fool for falling under her spell and being whipped as hell were more double-ended than I thought they were.

“I can’t take it anymore, Gilly. I can take whatever they say to me, and I do my best not to interfere when they talk about her – not when she asked me not to. And she never asks, Gilly. Except for this. It’s the only thing she asked. Only just for this. How can I refuse? I respect how hard she tries but this is the last straw. I can’t take them using me to hurt her. They’re sick fucks! Vile! To even think that they thought she slept with my father – Gods, what a fucking low blow! He made a mistake, I know. But that’s all in the past. We’ve all moved on a long time ago. And he’d never – and Sansa’d never - ” I choked. I was incredibly mad and frustrated, feeling near tears as well.

Gilly patted my back and rubbed soothingly. “I’m sorry, Jon. For what it’s worth, Sam and I, and the others, we don’t believe in all this bullshit. I even saw Val making some of the staff cry because she heard them whispering about her for less. We’re all doing our best to help her. But this time, it’s too much. I haven’t even talked to Sam, yet. Though I had to talk to Val  because I ran into her and she wanted to rip their tongues off like you but I talked her out of it and promised to tell you. We both agreed that you had to know. I know Sansa’s been very careful not to let you know.”

I took a deep breath and was calm enough to face her. “Thank you. Gilly. I’ll take care of it. And I’ll take care of Sansa. Go on and go home to Sam and little Sam, Gilly. Sorry for making you wait.”

She shook her head. “No problem. I’ll see you, Jon. Hug Sansa for me again. If anyone can help her, it’s you.”

I slid down the wall once Gilly left, fighting the urge to punch it, cradling my head in my hands. I’ve never seen Sansa cry either. But I imagine it would be even more heart breaking and would surely end me. I was aware of course that she was masking what she truly felt about her situation in the hospital. She made it clear to me that she cared. But she still wore the mask for the sake of her patients. She was used to this to some extent owing in part to her cutthroat residency at Old Town. I get that. Neurosurgery training was one of the most brutal ones with the highest drop out rate – forced and voluntary. It’ll harden you up some but I knew Sansa. She could be tough as nails, but her heart was at its core, so very gentle. And there was only so much she could take. And the accusations? They were too fucking much.

So congratulations, Eastwatch. You finally broke her. But I swear to the old gods and the new that she was going to rise above this and the shit heads will get their due.

I tried to think about what to do. She’ll surely do her best to keep this from me and I knew her enough that I wouldn’t confront her on this. The best was just to act normally around her and do something special tonight. And maybe she’ll tell me. Maybe not. Maybe someday she’ll be comfortable enough to be truly vulnerable with me. But until then, I’ll just do what I can.

But for now, there was only one thing I can do.

I have to call my father.

I don’t really have a bad relationship with him. In fact, I respect the prime minister a lot. But I prided myself in working apart from the family name and never called in any favors. But this time, I was willing to swallow my pride and call.

With a deep breath, I tapped on my phone, hovered over his name, and pressed call.

He answered on the second ring.

“Jon, what a pleasant surprise.”

“Good afternoon, sir. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything,” I said politely. Months of not calling, this was awkward as hell.

He sighed at the other line. “Nonsense, son. And drop the ‘sir’ business. I always have time for my family. But I’m sensing this isn’t a social call.”

“Well, not exactly,” I answered, rubbing the back of my neck. This was so awkward. I didn’t know how to proceed. Luckily, father decided to ease it in. If there was one thing Rhaegar Targaryen was known for, it was being intuitive and another was knowing how to put people at ease. “

“How is the lovely Dr. Stark? I’ve heard nothing but praise for her from Lord Commander Mormont, Dr. Wyllis, and my uncle,” he said in a pleasant but knowing voice. Lord Commander Mormont was the head official for the corps here at The Wall, Dr. Wyllis was our medical director, while the uncle referred, was Dr. Aemon Targaryen, our semi-retired Neuropsychiatrist.

I sighed. “I called because of her, actually. Father…why did you send Sansa here?” I decided to just go for it.

“Son…” he started.

“No, I know why she did it. But was it really necessary? I mean, I don’t want to imply anything, but I do work here too,” I cut him off.

I heard him take a deep breath after a few seconds of silence. “I think it’s better I explain in person. I'm actually in Last Hearth. Why don’t you meet me here? It’s not that far.”

I breathed out of my nose. “Fine. See you there in thirty minutes. I’m using the chopper. I have to get back quickly.”

“Have a safe flight then.”

Last Hearth

I was escorted to the presidential suite of Last Hearth’s castle which had a whole floor dedicated to guests of noble blood, in this case, my father, Prime Minister Rhaegar Targaryen. My escort was no other than the mayor’s son, Jon ‘Smalljon’ Umber who left me alone with my father the moment I stepped into the room. Well, as alone as can be with his security detail.

My father and I didn’t waste time on pleasantries and I was grateful for it. We nodded at each other and he immediately beckoned me to sit down across him on the long conference table outfitted for occasions such as this, a pot of black tea ready.

“Please tell me, father. I need to know,” I started.

His indigo eyes, a shade lighter than my own, regarded me before he spoke with the same grace and calm that Sansa mastered. The perfect blend to comfort and still be straight without a stitch of patronizing the listener.

“First of all, I don’t want you to think that I didn’t take the time to consider that a son of mine was working on a hospital that was on its way for closure. I did son. I know you didn’t want any of my influence when you decided to build a name for you there and I promise I kept my word but I have been keeping an eye out, and that’s never been a secret. But son, I did try. But the numbers were really bad. And I know you know that. Before you ask, in the event that the hospital closes, all staff will have ample severance pay a transition time. The neighboring hospitals are also willing to absorb most, if not, all of the employees. And I know you’ve been offered jobs in different hospitals to help you just in case. I really did give it that much thought, son. Ned and I talked a great deal about this,” he explained.

He did. He really did. Those were all very reasonable. “But then…how?”

He leant closer and gestured with his hands from time to time as he carefully explained. “I invited Ned for dinner with Elia and I to discuss it further when he almost cancelled, saying that he was meeting with his daughter, so I just told him to bring her along. I asked your sister to come as well since I knew they worked together in Visenya Hill Medical,” he gave a half-smile then and his eyes lit up as he regarded me again before he continued.

“Charming girl, your Sansa. Ned was clearly very proud of his daughter and Rhaenys has only good things to say about her,” he grinned before sighing and shaking his head, “But she is quite the force to be reckoned with. When we started talking about Eastwatch, the poor girl was heartbroken – even brought to tears from the news. It was, after all, the hospital that miraculously saved her younger brother, Bran. And has thus served as a great influence on her pursuing medicine. We explained everything to her while she listened carefully, not knowing that she was already at work in coming up with a plan,” he paused.

“Go on,” I urged though I already knew what it was. I knew that they offered this job and position to her. I didn’t know that it was her idea.

“Apparently, she’s been scouting hospitals in the North once she found out that there were only five board certified neurologists and only two neurosurgeons who were both on the eastern North and a very grim statistic – morbidity and mortality alike, with most patients having to cross South to consult or be treated as one of the neurosurgeons is a paediatric one, and the other, was mostly in Essos finishing up a fellowship. After showing us the numbers and convincing us that we should conduct studies on specialities that were lacking in different regions so we could plan on a strategy on making career opportunities to entice specialists to start practice on them. She then volunteered to work in Eastwatch,” he smiled slightly while he shook his head, his eyes not even hiding how impressed he was.

“But,” I prompted but couldn't continue.

He sighed. “Ah. Of course there was a round of protests from everyone at the table. Elia, Rhaenys, and of course, Ned Stark. I tried to diffuse it as best I could and offered for Ned and Sansa to talk in private but Sansa held her own. Rhaenys was, of course, very vocal about Sansa ‘throwing away her career’.” He paused again and looked at me. “No offense meant.”

I shook my head impatiently. “None taken, continue.”

“Sansa Stark certainly had a great run in Visenya Hill with great potential for many opportunities. But she insisted that she was always going to go back to the North to work anyway. And if there was even the smallest thing she could do to save the hospital that meant a great deal to her, she would do it. She urged us to at least, give her a year there to consider.”

That explained a lot. The long hours, the back to back surgeries, her insistence of taking shifts, why she hesitates to get too close to people, why she doesn’t move in with me…

“And if she doesn’t make a difference, we could do, in her own words, ‘what we must.’ Ned then asked her if she was sure, she looked her father in the eye and said yes without a trace of hesitation. So, we had to consider it. Afterwards, Ned and I talked and of course, Catelyn, when she found out, was furious,” he sighed and shook his head again. I haven’t met Mrs. Stark yet, but I knew about the former senator who fought tooth and nail for women’s rights.

“I’d be too. But I know enough not to try and change the minds of my strong-willed children once they set out their minds on something,” he looked at me then and raised a brow.

I sighed. It was true. My father was a very convincing man, but he always respected our decisions. He never imposed on us, merely suggests and comments, but he leaves us be and instructs when needed but always let us decide in the end. I remember he didn’t even bat an eye when I decided to change my name, just asked me what it changed to so he could adjust all the legal documents he had of me – especially his will.

“But this doesn’t make sense. Sansa told me that this was asked of her. That this was a duty. Did she lie?”

Father shook his head. “Oh, you misunderstood. Ned clearly didn’t want her to. And I never would’ve asked his daughter to do this. We certainly tried convincing Sansa, telling her our plans but she asked to try, so if I agreed, I’d have to give her something,” he looked at me straight then, his eyes saying what he didn’t. Now do you understand?

I swallowed. “So that’s why you made her deputy chief.” That was what she meant by duty.

He nodded once and leant his chin on top of his closed hand. “I would’ve offered better but I couldn’t. I knew she didn’t want it. She didn’t say anything, but I’m guessing she doesn’t like any career bypass. So, I made sure that the position was justified based on her merits as best as my legal and ethics committee could. It would just make sense that there was something for her there and leaving Visenya Hill abruptly." I could sense there was more to that statement but I didn't press.  

"But I’m guessing… they don’t see it that way over there. Ned did warn me of how the Northerners would take it. And his wife swore to take down that hospital, stone by stone if they ever mistreat her or prevent her from taking better opportunities. But I’m guessing once more… that Sansa Stark has an iron will, stronger than her mother’s threats.”

I let out a snort at that. “Well, it’s true. She’s so stubborn, alright. But it’s also true that they’ve been treating her like hell there. I mean, come on, father. The only reason they started to respect me was when I turned down being chief and changed my name. What did you expect?” It took near a year for them to warm up to me. But even then, I didn’t get it as bad as Sansa did. Not even close.

His mouth was a grim line. “I know son. But what’s done is done and it was the only way I could show my good will to the Starks for their daughter’s good intentions. I had hoped that Eastwatch would accept her as she is their governor’s daughter and she is a brilliant addition. But,” he sighed and shrugged. “At least I told the Starks you were there and that my boy will look out for their girl surely,” he smiled proudly at me then. “And you certainly improved her stay there. Ned even started to forgive me.”

I huffed angrily and drank the tea that cooled untouched at the side hastily. “Fat lot that did. Did you know why I finally called?”

“Tell me.”

“They started a rumor that she slept with both of us. You, to get there, me, to stay there – as if she needed any string pulling to get to the top. As if it was even worth the effort to get there. And there's more - that we’re not doing anything about the rumors because such scandal would affect us so we never set that fact straight, choosing to ignore it as a nonissue.” I slammed the cup on the table and saw my father’s usually calm expression, twist into disgust and anger. Good. “Oh and it gets good. You sent her all the way there to avoid the press. And in case she’s already pregnant with your child, we’ll pass it off as mine.” I continued remembering how Val found me just before I left and told me all of this.

My fists were clenching tightly on top of the table as I leant forward. “Please tell me you can end this. One of the staff nurse – probably the closest she could call friend found her crying today. And she never cries.” I told him all about what happened as well as the conversation we had before we got together regarding her stand on her maltreatment.

“She can leave anytime she wants, son. I’ll make sure she gets hired in any hospital she wishes. Most would take her in on her merits alone, I’ll hardly meddle. But I know it’s not that easy to convince her,” he said.

I felt my gut drop at the thought of her leaving but if that’s what it took, I’d let her. Father saw this.

“You can too, son. Both of you don’t have to stay in a place that hasn’t been welcoming,” he offered quickly.

“We could. I know. With or without your help, we could. But she’ll never leave. Not when she thinks the hospital will close if she does. And face it, we all know it will. And despite everything, she has friends now. We’re a small group but she won’t betray their loyalty,” I pointed out exasperatedly.

“I’ll think of something. I promise. And I’d offer to send someone to talk to your HR, but I take it that any threat to their jobs that links to her or us would only make it worse for her. They’d follow because there’s no choice but you know what’s going to happen. I don't like bullying. And we are all professionals for goodness' sake! Frankly, if it was up to me, I’d fire them all and replace them but…” he looked at me knowingly. “It's not fully up to me, son. Or you. It's ultimately up to her. You know how one gets passionate about something, it becomes the priority above all. Sometimes the principle simply weighs more than the rational alternatives. That’s honor, son. And she’s a Stark.”

I let out a disgruntled breath. I hate politics. And as much as I admire and respect Sansa Stark’s sense of honor, I hate it. I was part Stark too but gods be good!

“Just tell me the word, though and I’d do all that anyway. If you think that we should. Let's do it. I really don't want to tolerate unnecessary maltreatment. But I’m sure your Sansa wouldn’t want this on her conscience, not that it has a place there anyway, but she’ll still feel some sense of responsibility for this. People will lose jobs - jobs they don't deserve from what they're doing, but jobs that pay for their families, but still,” he gave me a look while he said all that so sincerely that I had no choice but to believe him when he said he’d do it, he’d do it. “We could even charge slander, for my name, yours, and hers. But again, I don’t think she’d like the media to sniff this out. But if she agrees to press chargers, we’ll do it.”

“What do we do then?” I said helplessly after a minute, sinking lower on my seat.

He stood up, went to my side, and placed a warm, comforting hand on my shoulder. “I’ll think of something. I promise. But for now, there are some things you can do while waiting. One, you keep trying to convince her that she doesn’t have to stay there, doesn’t have to save Eastwatch. Two, convince her to go on a fellowship. Rhaenys told me that she had offers in Essos with grant for research,” I was about to say something as that was something big that I didn’t know, and probably something Sansa and I should talk about, but father cut me off.

He looked at me then softly and said, “Three, just keep doing what you’re doing.”

I blinked. “What’s that?”

He smiled. “Just love her.”

I swallowed. I’ve known it for a while now, even told her once, a month ago. But though I see it in her eyes too, she wasn’t ready to declare anything yet. So I tried to hold back from saying it again until she was comfortable.

“She’s not…”

He squeezed my shoulder. “I know son. But you should tell her anyway. Tell her all the time. And not just with your actions which I know you've been doing, but really say it. Especially now with the rumors. She might not say anything, but she’ll need you to. Just be there for her, support her, and love her.”

I bowed my head and clenched my fists. “I just feel like such a failure. I want to commit murder whenever I hear things,” I confessed. “I don’t think I’m worthy enough for her.”

“And that’s why she keeps them from you. Because she doesn’t see you as a failure. Because she knows how much you try and the lengths you’re willing to go. Son, she knows that,” he squeezed my shoulder with each point and it was comforting. “And that last thing you said is bullshit. You are worthy.”

I sighed. Ignoring the fact that my well-mannered father swore. “At least have another neurosurgeon near enough to call on and some neurologists too so she could concentrate on her specialty. I managed to make her give up her twenty-four hours to twelve while I’m working on getting her to agree to just be on call. She’s too overworked. That, I won’t stand for any longer.”

“I’ll do what I can. I promise. Give me a month. I’ll even get Rhaenys to help me. And you know, Elia will too. I assume you don’t want to involve the other Starks in this?”

I thought for a while and shook my head. “No dad. Not yet. Let’s help them out on our own first. You do owe my mother this.”

He sighed. “I do. Well, if there’s one thing the rumors got right. We do carry fondness for Stark girls. Don’t we?” he smiled wryly at me.

I rolled my eyes but nodded. “Yes, but dad. Sansa’s mine,” I shot him a look.

He laughed then. “I prefer brunettes.” He winked smoothly. “Though it’s really your brother you have to warn," he said, raising a brow.

I grimaced but then looked at my father gratefully. “Thanks father.”

He smiled at me then. “Don’t thank me yet.”

I grabbed his arm then when he withdrew his hand. “Father?”

His brows drew in confusion and surprise. “Yes, son?”

“Please do something. I never ask, you know that. Please do all that you can,” I pleaded.

“Son – “

I shook my head and looked at him half-mad, half-serious. “You don’t understand. This is Sansa. I’m going to marry her one day.”

He looked taken aback for a second before breaking into a grin, clapping my back. “Believe me, son. I do understand, more than you think. And I know. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here and asking me of all things,” he raised his brows at me and smirked.

That was true. I felt guilty all of a sudden for keeping my father at arm’s length. I was telling the truth though that I’ve already forgiven him for loving my mother when he wasn’t free to do so. And I know it wasn’t anyone’s fault I never knew my mother who drew her last breath, as I drew my first.

The only mother I’ve ever known was Elia, who loved me as she did Aegon and Rhaenys. She was the one who inspired and encouraged me to be a doctor. Even as a young boy, she somehow knew I would come to love the medical world – Rhaenys too. While Aegon was as much father’s shadow as was his mirror, mother would take Rhaenys and I to work. She was a Paediatric Surgeon, specializing in Neonatal cases. Rhaenys told me that we lost siblings before Aegon as well as a year after, and our grandmother had a history of miscarrying as well, thus was mother’s driving force. She was, after all, married before starting medical school so she had time to choose yet, and well after three years of training in general surgery, she decided to focus on paediatrics.

Rhaenys, in turn, wanted something in line with mother’s work. Thus, she worked to become an OBGYN with a subspecialty in Perinatology which was perfect for the two of them. I already knew I wanted something in the surgical field. And after mandatory military training as a medic, I knew I wanted to be a trauma surgeon. And that was that.

I love my family and I hardly felt like an interloper despite some of the backlash of my controversial origin. And now I realize that I haven’t been spending some time with them. I may have changed my name as a career move, one I don’t regret, but I was still part of a family. I would always be a Targaryen.

“Father, I’m sorry I haven’t been…” I started, staring up at him awkwardly.

He sat down again across from me and smiled warmly. “It’s fine, son. We all understand. Come home, some time. Bring Dr. Stark with you. Rhaenys and your mother would love to see her again. I’m sure Aegon will welcome her too.”

“Well, we have to make sure she’s free to do that, don’t we?”

He grinned wider and nodded. “I’ll make sure of it. Again, I’ll need a month.”

“Thanks. I hope you find a way for her to have the option to leave without her worrying that you’re closing the hospital after, or something,” I pressed.

“Yes, yes. Now don’t you have a flight to catch?”

I stood up then after I nodded. Father did too and we stood facing each other awkwardly until finally we hugged it out however brief.

“Trust me on this, son.”

“I do. I just – I just wish I could do something more for her now,” I ran a hand through my hair.

“Well, sometimes… flowers help,” He smiled cheekily at me. “And I seem to recall Ned telling me once that Sansa loved blue winter roses.”

“Flowers? Would it really be that simple?” I arched a brow at him.

His eyes had a gleam in them then as he smirked playfully, masking his age with that same look that charmed a nation. “Oh, son. You have no idea.”

He turned me around then, placed both hands on my shoulders before he pushed me out the door. “A little goes a long way, Jon. Now go. No time to waste.”

EVMMC

I went up to Sansa at once when I saw her walking out the hospital, freshly showered and beautiful in dark blue dress and black thermal tights, that brought out her eyes and complemented her red hair and fair skin.

I loved her even more when she smiled at once the moment she spotted me. She immediately went over and kissed my cheek. I cupped her face and kissed her soundly in turn making her giggle once she pulled away too soon. I studied her as discreetly as I could and noted that there were faint signs that she had indeed been crying.

Before she could figure me out, I stepped back and offered her three long stemmed winter roses I was hiding behind my back.

And from the expression on her face, I grinned ridiculously and vowed not to doubt my father again on how to woo women. Which, in hindsight, was actually ridiculous thing to doubt in the first place.

"Oh Snow, this is… you know you shouldn’t – ..."

"If you say I shouldn't do it, you know what I’m going to say and we’re back to the first conversation we’ve ever had. So how about a ‘thank you Jon; instead, Stark? That and a promise of nice...or naughty things later?" I attempted to wink.

She cracked up then, a hand covering her mouth once more, before she shook her head and smoothed her face into that coquettish smile, as she looked up from under her long lashes, and bit her bottom lip. "Thank you, Jon. These are lovely. I don't know how you knew they were my favorite, but I love them so much. It's so sweet of you. Certainly, made my day,” she blushed while smiling brightly.

Please marry me. I almost blurted out at how damn adorable she was. She rarely said my name and to hear her say the word love... Gods.

I kissed her again and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "I'm glad. Though, rough day?" I tested.

She sighed and shook her head as she wound an arm around my back while she held the roses with her arm. "You have no idea."

Oh sweetheart, I do.

"Well, when its particularly trying I usually take a walk along the pier then maybe grab a drink and some food,” I tried to say brightly.

She looked up at me then and her eyes twinkled. "Can we?"

I laughed. "I was going to take you anyway, Stark. No need to ask."

"Sneaky,” she nudged me. “Well, let’s go Snow and show me this amazing escape of yours. You might get lucky tonight."

"I already am,” I answered straight without looking at her.

I didn’t need to see her to know that she caught what I was trying to say. I was waiting for a rebuttal but it never came. I glanced down at her then and saw her blushing.

I couldn’t help the smirk that came out.

Wrapping her tighter to my side, I kissed her head and led her to my car.

Eastwatch Port, Bay of Seals

I could tell she loved the sea as we walked along the pier facing the Bay of Seals. We paused near the docks and stood there watching with our hands clasped.

"Back in King's Landing, I used to do the same thing. If I wanted to take a breather, I go down the docks and watch the ships. In my mind, I would play a game, imagining where each ship came from and where the others would go to. I'd imagine their voyage, the people, the things they see..." she paused and looked up at me tentatively. "Sorry, I'm babbling."

"No, no. I find it fascinating. Go on,” I urged.

She gave a deep sigh. “Sometimes, I just, watch, you know? Just the image of the water lapping against the shore, the waves forming and crashing… the sight of that, the sound… it’s soothing. And when I see the sunset, it’s beautiful. Like sad, beautiful. It’s an end of something… but what an end. It’s just really beautiful when you see the sun painting one glorious picture before making way for the night.”

She paused then and I let the silence envelope us as we watched the sun start to set. Knowing that when she rambles and it catches a tone, it was her way of segueing up to what she really wanted to say.

“I lost a life today,” she stated suddenly.

I looked down at her and saw something shimmer –my mind on overdrive when I realized what it was.

Whipping around to face her confirmed it.

Sansa Stark was crying.

It was the most heartbreaking sight I’ve ever seen, rendering me helpless as fuck.

She hardly moved, nor made a sound. Just stood there, looking straight away while tears ran down her face.  Even in melancholy, Sansa still manages to look hauntingly beautiful that I froze for a minute, not believing for a moment, and certainly not knowing what to do but when one sob escaped, it was like something broke in me and I immediately framed her face with my hands, stroking her cheek until she met my eyes.

“Sansa… it happens. It happens to the best of us.”

She stepped away from my touch and started wiping off her tears from embarrassment. “I know, I know. I’m being silly –

I brought her to me then, cradling the back of her head as it rested against my chest, while my other hand wrapped around her back and began to rub soothing circles on it as her hands clutched at my shirt.

“You’re not. It’s never easy. But it happens, sweetheart. We can’t save them all, we can only try,” I crooned.

“I know. But I tried so hard. I did my best,” her muffled voice against my chest felt like tiny sharp stabs at how laced with emotion her words came.

“I’m sure the family knows you did.”

“He was nine.”

“He got the best care…it just…it happens. And it’s okay to feel bad about it. It makes you human. But it’s not your fault. You did everything you could.”

She didn’t say anything, just clutched at me tighter as she finally let herself go.

With all that she’d endured this day, this was the one thing that bothered her the most. Patients, above all.

I'm not even surprised anymore.

I stroked her hair and rubbed her back and just held her.

“You did everything you could,” I repeated.

“We’re so sorry to have to tell you.”

                     “There was an unfortunate complication.”

“His body couldn't take the stress.”

                                   “We deeply regret to inform you.”

“Despite our best efforts, we couldn't…”

          “We've talked about the risks..”

“It was always a possibility.”

                     “We did everything we could.”

These were the words we say to the next of kin.

It's hardest the first time. The death stays with you for days and either breaks or makes you. You remember, refusing to give up. You remember lining up yourself and do just that one more round of compression. You remember ordering just that one more shot of adrenaline. You remember giving just that one more jolt of shock. You remember just that one more try of holding on to the heart, massaging it to eventually squeezing it back to life as your eyes glue themselves to the monitor for any sign of your effort.

And then there’s only one more thing you can do – must do.

First, you take your hands off.

Next, you call it.

“Time of death…”

It gets easier but not really. In some ways it does. For some ways, never.

H-how?

    Why?

It's okay doc. You did your best.

      You did all you could.

And it’s all we and they could say to ourselves to make it better.

You did all you could.

They'd say and though it doesn't alleviate the guilt – needless or not, We do try and cling to those words.

We have to believe we did our best. and we need someone to tell us. Because we’d lose our minds, rationalizing every little thing because we know there will always be something you could've done differently. Something others could’ve done differently. No matter how small or insignificant, there is.

But this is the reality of our profession.

We save lives.

But we're not gods.

Contrary to what we are perceived to be or how we consciously or unconsciously present ourselves.

We’re not gods.

Trust me when I say doctors know humility the most.

Not only humility, we know failure. We know mistakes. We know.

We’re not gods.

We can only do so much.

We can only try our best.

And no one tries the most than Sansa. This wasn’t her first rodeo, I’m sure. But as I’ve said, she loves her patients too much above all, and add the stakes she put on herself to save this damned hospital, this loss was in no way, easy for her. And for people to throw all of these in her face just for this one setback of her stay here was just too cruel.

I just kept on holding her while she cried. Finding the right time and method to comfort her.

"That ship over there carries the flag of the Martells. There’s that red sun and spear. Probably a cargo ship. Probably carries fine Dornish wine," I said softly.

She stilled but didn’t look up. "Hm?"

I shrugged and continued. "I imagine it’s going to Skagos next before it makes its way back to Sunspear…” I tried to think of something that Sansa might like to hear.  “There's probably a wedding. They're going to celebrate with Arbor Gold that the groomsmen and the bridesmaids would guzzle drinking their singleness..."

I chuckled. Sansa was still quiet but she wasn’t sobbing anymore. It was working.

"Oh but they are a miserable bunch, especially when they see that the groom follows the bride with his eyes like a moon orbiting its planet, seeing nothing else but his whole world in front of him."

"And the bride?" she asked softly, her voice slightly strained.

"The bride would be a vision, having spent the whole day needlessly, looking perfect when she already is to the groom. More so without a stitch of clothing," I grinned.

She chuckled and smacked my chest, then she turned her head slightly to follow my line of vision, her hands still clutching my shirt. I wrapped my arms tighter around her, dropping my chin on top of her head while I freed a hand briefly to point at the ship.

"The groom would be one big nervous wreck but the moment he sees his radiant bride, everything will be as it should be,” I continued, catching myself from sounding too wistful. I found myself getting into this… narrative more than I thought to be. “It may be selfish but for the groom, the bride probably never looked better for him, as the moment she wears his cloak and his name.” Now I don’t know if I’m talking about a lucky fictional bastard from Skagos anymore.

I cleared my throat, looked down at her and gave an eyeroll. “And of course being in Skagos, they'd likely have some wrestling type of entertainment.”

She laughed then and shook her head. Yes!

She leaned into me and sighed against my neck. "That sounds lovely."

I shrugged. "Eh, I'm sure you can come up with something better."

"Maybe... though not today. Right now, all I can come up with is that one,” she pointed at one of the ships with an orange sail, “The one there came from the Summer Isles, a traveller having returned after trying to seek something but deciding to come back to ice and frost where she saw that she never needed to go away for find that something. It was already there all along,” she said in a hushed tone, her eyes suddenly meeting mine and somewhere in the back of my mind, I don’t think she’s talking about a Summer islander either.

We held our look for a moment before the sound of a horn startled us, causing us both to blush and look away.

I cleared my throat again and tried. "Well, damn. That's still beautiful."

“Jon?”

My heart raced as I looked down at her and she was looking at me with an expression I’ve never seen before.

“Y-yes?” I manage, coughing after to clear my suddenly dry throat.

A slow smile formed its way on her face while I felt a hand press against mine. She blinked once before speaking. "Let’s go home."

My jaw dropped as I searched her eyes.

"Home?"

She tilted her head and started fixing my collar. "Yeah... if Ghost wouldn't mind squeezing in with Lady and me..." she blushed and looked at me knowingly.

"I'll buy a house,” I blurted out, still trying to process the fact that she was finally agreeing to move in with me. I'd have bought her a zoo if she wanted at this point.

She smacked my arm.

I held her arms then and leaned down to level with her eyes. "But seriously... are you sure? You don't -"

She cut me off with a too quick peck and nodded. "I want to."

I picked her up at once, despite her protests and swung her around before dipping her and kissing her like a man possessed.

"We could use your apartment as an extra closet,” I offered dumbly, once we pulled away for breath.

"I don't need an extra closet, or a big house, silly. I just want you."

I groaned and pressed my forehead against hers. "Gods, what you do to me."

She giggled then before arching an elegant brow and smirking. "Come on, Dr. Snow. If we don't hurry someone might fall, hit his head really hard, and then where would we be?"

I hoisted her up in my arms then, earning a cute yelp. "Then by all means, Dr. Stark, let’s go home - stat!"

I watched as she laughed once more while wrapping her arms around my neck, making my heart melt once more. Gods, I’m the one whose supposed to make her feel better too.

"Sansa?"

She blinked up at me and smiled as she tilted her head. "Yeah?"

"I love you."

Her mouth fell for a moment from surprise as another blush crept on her face. And after a hundred thoughts probably flitted in those baby blues, she finally leaned up to kiss me once, gently, closing her eyes after as she leant against my chest and sighed, but didn't say anything back.

But from that final look in her eye, it was enough for now.

I looked back and saw the sun completely setting.

I glanced back down at Sansa who was starting to nod off, the events of today finally catching up to her once she finally allowed herself to relax in my arms.

I couldn’t help but let out sigh of my own and a grin before I started walking.

“Sansa?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you sure you don’t have anything more to tell me?”

She stiffened.

“You’re not cheating on my with our blonde intern, right?” I said in my most deadpan voice.

Her eyes flew open then as her mouth. “What?”

I laughed then. “Dr. Olly Marsh.”

She snorted. “Ridiculous.”

“Just kidding. But he does have a crush on the hot neurosurgeon.”

She shook her head. “He’s interested in the specialty, not me.”

I chuckled. “Oh he is. But he is about you too.”

She frowned but her eyes softened. “No way.”

“Oh, yes way. He asked me how you liked your coffee,” I pointed out.

She shook her head again. “And what did you say?” Her eyes looked up at me in challenge.

“I asked him if he was hitting on my girlfriend,” that was honest anyway.

I could tell she wanted to tell me off but shifted to a wicked grin. “Well, he is cute.”

I snorted then and pressed my nose against her. “Stop. I won’t tolerate any straying thought even if it's a joke. You’re mine, Stark.”

She giggled then and shrugged. “So possessive. You want me around your life, that much, Snow?”

I smirked at her and borrowed my father's words from earlier, “Oh, you have no idea.”

She shook her head in disbelief before she sighed.

“One day, I’m going to make you believe me when I say I like having you in my life,” and maybe one day, you’ll be comfortable enough for me to change saying ‘like’ to ‘love’ or ‘want’ to ‘need.’

“You are certainly free to do so, Snow,” she grinned. “Now, can I please sleep? Pretty please while you carry me to your castle, my sweet, sweet, prince?” she cracked a laugh at the end.

I chuckled. “Go ahead, Princess. I’ll carry you to our castle.”

“My hero,” she rolled her eyes but her smile never left.

I winked at her.

“You know, you always wink but did you know you never really do?”

I laughed again and let out a contented breath. “Seven hells. You do notice everything.”

“Yes, and the sunset here is so beautiful. The breeze isn't warm like in King's Landing, but I like the crispness of the cold.”

I looked down at her, and her eyes were so impossibly soft in their gaze. “Still think it’s a sad beautiful thing?”

She studied me a bit before smiling sweetly, shaking her head. “Not for our first.”

“Have I told you, I love you yet?” I blurted once more.

She looked at me and smiled knowingly. “You tell me all the time,” she whispered.

My heart was again, racing once more. “But you never seem to believe me.”

She simply hummed as she closed her eyes and rested her head once more under my chin and placed a hand above my heart.

She didn’t need to say anything, even if it would’ve been nice to hear. My heart felt so full at this moment anyway.

I leaned down and whispered. “Ad curare interdum, saepe tractare, ut consolarer semper…”

I watched as another smile graced her half-asleep form, knowing she heard and understood my words.

Dr. Tyrion Lannister often ended his bioethics lecture with this: “Remember, doctors. As Hippocrates said, ‘to cure sometimes, to treat often, and to comfort, always.’ And that’s another medical dictum we take to heart.”  

There were still many things we need to talk about but I wasn't about to ruin this moment for us. And she likely knows, I know. But now wasn't the time.

Slowly, I turned our backs from the view of the sun disappearing seemingly from the bay, watching as lights began to open across the docks while I walked us a step closer back to our temporary home.

I wasn’t kidding about wanting to buy a house.

Some day.

One day.

But for now, this was enough.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10404822

#jonsa #fanfiction #jon snow #sansa stark #ladymdfic

[ladywolfmd]

Primum non Nocere

Summary: 

"First, do no harm." Part 1 of Medicus.

Sansa is the new neurosurgeon assigned to work in East Watch by the Sea Veterans Memorial Medical Center where Jon Snow has been working for five years as a Trauma Surgeon. Sansa doesn’t seem to fit in very well and is seen as indifferent and unfeeling, while Jon is well loved. A case brings them together and Jon starts to understand that they were all wrong about Sansa’s heart being colder than the Wall

                                               Primum non Nocere

Jon

12:10am

ER, East Watch by the Sea Veterans Memorial Medical Center

It had been one of the busiest shifts he’s ever had. Being in a more secluded area, East Watch by the Sea didn’t get that many patients especially this era of peace. But this day was exceptionally toxic. A freak accident at Castle Black involving the winch the Watchers used gave and broke, sending five that were on it plummeting twenty feet down and over five more Watchers below, the wreck stretching to injure ten more.

It was chaos in the E.R., especially for an understaffed center and this all had to happen on my shift.

Stretchers upon stretchers were wheeled in, three I’ve already declared dead on arrival, while Val, the E.R. specialist was busy declaring four more to join my three while the others were lucky to have survived with only minor injuries.

All hands were on deck for the carnage, as blood, snow, and dirt painted the septic floors soon, as the familiar stench of all three mixed with that of death and dying filled the room as did the sounds of pain, panic, and order echoed against the white walls.

I had just finished setting the bones of a young Watcher, a teenager from his looks when the blaring horn of an ambulance nearing was heard, as it did for several trips back and forth already.  

I looked over and saw Val trying to revive another Watcher, her eyes glued to the monitor showing the trace, spiking with each pump, her intern made as he took turns with a nurse in doing compressions. Val’s expression grim and we both knew that the moment they stopped pumping, the spike in the trace would too.

I gave her a gesture that meant I would handle the new patient and she gave a nod of gratitude before she ordered the last-ditch effort of another epi to be given.

Pulling my stained gloves off, pumping an antiseptic on my hands quickly before I changed into new ones, I pulled my surgical mask down and waited by the double doors with the nurses at the ready.

Once the ambulance was parked and the EMTs were swift to open the backdoor of the ambulance, we were greeted with the sight of another Watcher, barely recognizable under all that blood and swelling that was starting on his face, one EMT bagging him, while two were pushing the stretcher down the ramp and into the ER.

I ordered Satin, one of the nurses to prepare the intubation kit and another to set up a double line while I rushed to examine the patient as we wheeled him to one of the gurneys, curtains hoisting at once to accommodate us as Grenn, I recognized as one of the EMTs endorsed quickly while I checked for pulse then breathing. Pulse was there but his breathing almost nonexistent without the bag. Satin came back with the ET kit and I slipped on a sterile glove quickly while Satin handed me the laryngoscope, two other nurses working to get in two lines and another was inserting a catheter while I intubated. Sweeping the tongue gently with the blade, I thanked the gods that I was able to view the trachea at once. I pushed the tube in and pulled the stylet off, putting on my steth immediately to check if I was in. Satin bagged, two rapid ones and pause then repeat as I checked each quadrant. I nodded once satisfied and helped them secure the tube while I continued my examination.

“We almost didn’t see him. Half buried under all the rubble. His head took the brunt of the hit. GCS not looking good, only responds to pain stimuli and his left seems weaker than his right but we’re not sure if it’s because of the physical injuries or if it’s more. Broken ribs on the left as well. He wasn’t breathing when we found him, pulse is erratic but it’s strong,” he explained.

“What’s his name?” I asked while I immediately took out my penlight and checked his pupils. They were anisocoric, not good.

“Waymar Royce,” Grenn answered.

I nodded and began patting his shoulder. “Waymar, Waymar can you hear me?” No response. I pressed against his hand. “If you can hear me, Waymar, squeeze my hand. Can you do that? Squeeze my hand or open your eyes.” Nothing.

I began to rub at his sternum and I let out a breath of relief to see his swollen eyes fluttering open, his hands moving towards his chest, noting his right was stronger than the left, while an audible sound of grunting left his lips.

“We need to page neuro,” I almost didn’t want to say, knowing we only had one on board and she had just left an hour ago after her own twenty-four shift. But we had no other choice. This looked like a bleed and she’d have to operate. “He needs to get a CT and some X-rays while we wait.” Knowing it wasn’t wise to leave a neuro patient alone, I volunteered to come wheel him down to radio with them. “Let me know at once if you get Dr. Stark.”

Pyp, my other nurse frowned but nodded despite knowing that we should be grateful to have her onboard. Dr. Sansa Stark, worked as both neurologist and neurosurgeon and was overworked enough as it is because she was the only one for the whole western North. That and she was so skilled – genius, to be honest that I swear most of the patients here in our hospital were hers, some traveling from beyond the Neck to seek her out. Well, we did have my great-uncle Dr. Aemon Targaryen, as our neuropsychiatrist but he was already ten years from his retirement, only entertaining some calls but he clearly praised Dr. Stark when she came on board.

Dr. Stark had a great promising career working in Visenya Hill Medical.  Top of her class in Citadel University, the number one medical school in Westeros, was prided for having the finest hands for surgery that everyone thought she’d have a go at Plastics with her almost invisible stitching skills, and not to mention, the looks to make her aesthetic practice more than believable. Sansa Stark was painfully beautiful.  Everyone was shocked when she chose to brave it out amidst the male dominated field of neurosurgery, even cutting her hair close to a shave as all male neurosurgeons did during residency without a shred of complaint. She'd have shaved it all off if she had to as was the rite of passage for them but her mother fiercely objected and lobbied high and low for her daughter's rights to stay in the program. That caused her some problems from the traditionalists, but she proved them all wrong when she emerged to be on top again. And she's since, grown her hair past her shoulders once more.

Still, especially in the conservative North, no matter how much she achieved, somehow, she was still not taken seriously by the senior staff – doctors and nurses alike. Despite the number of patients that sought her service, the referrals were always late and done only when there was no other choice, opting to call Dr. Aemon first who would hand them over to Sansa. This was very insulting but Sansa never complained. Just worked.

Worked and worked. She was all business and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her outside the hospital these three months that we’ve had her here. She usually stays in her apartment, her dog keeping her company. I knew because I had the unit across from hers. But the rare times I saw her smile it was with her patients. And they weren’t fake ones. They were always sincere and I knew that Sansa wasn’t the frigid Ice Queen that people make her out to be.

I wish I did more to help her out. Sure, I would chastise the staff when they talked behind her back enough that they never spoke against her when I was there.

Pyp in particular grumbled though one time. “You don’t have to defend her just because she’s your cousin, Jon. She’s a snobby princess who thinks she’s better than us.”

The glare I gave him then made sure no one ever questioned why I looked out for her. All except her.

As we made our way towards Radiology, I remembered a sort of conversation we had when she was only two weeks into her stay here.

We were in the scrub room, washing our hands and arms after a joint surgery when she suddenly spoke to me.

“You don’t have to you know,” she whispered coolly suddenly while she ran her arm under the spout, not looking at me.

I was drying my arms and hands when she spoke, I almost dropped the sheet. “Have to what?”

She took a moment before continuing, grabbing a disposable drying sheet of her own. “Look out for me. I can take care of myself.”

Oh.

I crumpled the sheet and threw it on the disposal. “I know you can.”

The tension in her shoulders that I didn’t see before suddenly gave – at least slightly as she nodded. “Thanks. I know you mean well, but you don’t have to.”

I almost sighed but decided to grab another sheet and hand it to her. “I know I don’t have to.”

She looked at me then and I almost faltered under her the intensity of the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen – eyes that were filled with pride, anger, confusion, and deep sadness.

I managed to pull a corner of my mouth up as I offered her the sheet but she didn’t even blink as she continued to study me, eyes never leaving my own.

She blinked then after a few seconds and I saw the tiniest pucker between her eyes as she took the sheet and nodded gratefully before turning away again, eyes concentrating on her task as silence enveloped us again.

I wanted to say something but I couldn’t find the right words. I didn’t even have to stay but I couldn’t…leave her.

“We saved a life today,” she said looking up at me suddenly and giving a small smile that left as quick as it came that I was struck for a moment before I hastily answered, my heart pounding erratically for some reason. It occurred to me that in the couple of weeks that she’s been here, we haven’t had a proper conversation.

“Yes. Yes, we did. Well, mostly you did. I was practically useless there,” I attempted to smile at her, my hand automatically reaching behind me to rub at the back of my neck.

Her nose wrinkled and I swear a hint of a blush swept on her face that left as fast as her smile did seconds ago. She tilted her head and studied me with her eyes again, her face unreadable. Gods what I would give to be able to see and hear what goes on in that mysterious brain of hers.

After blinking – her lashes were so long and curled elegantly at the ends – I noticed as they swept low on her cheeks for the briefest moment, she shook her head slowly just once before speaking again. “You were far from useless.”

I tried again. “That’s high praise then, coming from you,” but that proved to be the wrong thing to say as her face fell a little before smoothening into her neutral mask she’s worn since she came here.

“I – “I started but what more could I say?

She shook her head and gave a polite smile “It’s really not,” she said so softly before she walked towards the bench, propping a foot on it and leaning down to unroll the bottom of her scrubs one by one then standing straight, reaching behind her to untie her cap, her long shiny red hair tumbling down her back like crimson waves against her dark green scrubs that I lost all coherent thought completely. I could do nothing else but stare at her, completely fascinated.

As if noticing an audience, she craned her neck at me and the tiny puckering movement of her brows came and gone again as she looked at me.

I blinked, coughed and turned away from her gaze and I swear I almost heard the softest laugh but when I looked back at her, she was already halfway out the door.

She paused. “Jon?”

“Y-yeah?” I answered weakly, my name sounding nice on her lips. We were cousins in name and blood but we were strangers and this was the first time she called me by my name.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me. I’m not made of glass. And again, you don’t have to look after me.” she said without looking at me. I was about to protest when she cut me off. “But…thanks,” and without waiting for my reply, she left.

We never spoke outside of work since that day but since then it’s now been my life mission to make her feel wanted and comfortable in the hospital that needed her more than she needed us – it.

The backstabbing, the gossiping, the off-handed remarks were almost nonexistent, well, at least not to my hearing distance, but was now replaced with maximum tolerance which was worse in some way.

She saved so many lives, improved many others and never had a bad thing to say to anyone, much less, complain that the staff quickly ran out of things to say about her bur praise – which they barely gave.

Why was it so hard for them to accept her?

She was polite, and skilled, and always gentle with the patients and more so with the relatives. Then I understood that Northerners held pride and stubbornness. Never mind that she was by birth and by name, a Northerner.

Four months ago, the hospital was at the brink of being closed down if not for Northern Minister Ned Stark and my father, the Prime Minister. Long story short, Dr. Sansa Stark was the bargain.

What I’ve failed to mention before was that she was the youngest neurosurgeon in history, and she was one in only a handful of female neurosurgeons in the country. But everyone seems to keep bypassing her new position as deputy chief of surgery while the hospital was undergoing an overhaul in management, as something she earned rightfully with her academic prowess and successful cases but rather one handed to her on a silver plate.

I could understand because I suffered the same when I was offered to be the chief over the more senior Dr. Allister Thorne. But the difference was I declined it, wanting to get my years before I feel worthy enough to accept it if they give it to me once more. There was a reason I wanted to work here after all. I was miles and miles away from my father’s shadow, I even changed my name to show how serious I was in earning everything on my own merits.

Though I saw the resistance in Sansa’s eyes when she was announced as the deputy chief, she didn’t say anything, just quietly accepted the job she was given, even if that meant uprooting her from her blossoming career in the South to work in a hospital that was barely holding on before the Starks saved it.

She could’ve left at any time. If she requested it, she could. She didn’t have to stay and endure this. But she’s still here.

I felt a hand move past my shoulder, surprising me almost off my chair. I craned my neck and saw the intense blue eyes that haunted me for weeks ever since that conversation at the scrub room.

There were shadows under her eyes and tinges of red in her sclerae and her hair was down and loose, betraying that she had likely woken up from her deserved rest. Looking away from her eyes, I noticed she had her hand half-withdrawn.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you Dr. Snow. I was just pointing out the bleeding, right there,” she reached out again and pointed at the very ominous crescent on the right lower hemisphere that flashed on the black and white screen. “It’s an epidural bleed and its started to herniate down. I need in there right now,” she explained quickly.

I nodded and was about to order when she beat me to it. “Prep me an OR, stat,” she said firmly but with incredible amount of calmness. How she manages to be calm all the time, I’ll never know. “Please,” she added and I almost shouted that she didn’t have to say that. “Kindly have four bags of blood ready. Did you test his type yet? If not, do so, please,” she ordered politely despite the seriousness of her eyes that were turning steely now as she quickly went to check on the patient, doing a neurological exam as fast as possible.

I followed her and endorsed the patient’s history, a summary of injuries, and my assessment. “Waymar Royce, 17, a steward. He was GCS 9, E2V2M5, pupils anisocoric, six and three, left, and his left is weaker than the right when I checked him. No lucid interval since. We were able to stabilize him but he’s not breathing on his own and I had them page you right away.”

She kept nodding at me as she went on with her examination. “Our exams match, but his left pupil dilated to eight now. We need to decompress immediately.”

“I started him on mannitol before we went to radio.”

She nodded at me. “That was the right thing to do but I have to push more, his blood pressure is spiking.” I checked the monitor and it was indeed spiking. I was about to start the infusion pump for the Nicardipine drip when she shook her head at me.

“No, just help me please with the Mannitol. We can’t drop it quickly,” she explained while she took out the 50ml syringes, loading it with Mannitol she produced from her bag. I began helping her extract Mannitol into the tubes as she started pushing one on the line that was on the crook of Waymar’s right arm. I handed her the next one, taking her empty syringe and refiling it.

The blood pressure was dropping gradually as was the spiking pulse. She gave one last push then checked on the pupils again while I checked on the breath sounds and the urine bag and others for signs of congestion. “Clear.”

“It’s down to five and three but we really need to take him up now,” she looked at me.

“We can’t wait, let’s wheel him up now and find an OR.”

She nodded. “You need to scrub in too.”

“Hm?” I answered when I went to the head of the gurney and started pushing while she maneuvered at the foot to pull.

“You need to see to his ribs. They could puncture his lungs,” she pointed at the x-ray. Gods, I almost forgot!

I nodded right away.

Pyp came back and helped us while telling us that OR 4 was ready.

It took close to eight hours as Waymar kept crashing. Being the night shift, we didn’t have full staff so I had to be Sansa’s assist and she had to be mine.

I was about to tell her that I’ll be fine on my own since she did work six of those eight hours while I assisted almost uselessly beside her. Neurosurgery was usually a one-man job with the assist touching as little as possible because one damaged brain tissue meant paralysis or dysfunction, unless you were also a neurosurgeon assisting too.

I felt bad that she had to do this because in her twenty-four hours she did four major surgeries, the shortest taking four hours and she still squeezed in some rounds. But there was no one else who could do this right now. Only her.

And I remembered I lobbied for her not to take E.R. shifts anymore for this very same reason. She was our only neurosurgeon and she had to have ample rest to not just be in tiptop shape but because damn it, she should be able to take much needed rest as much as she can for all her hard work and dedication. I suggested that she just be on call and if she wished to, take only a maximum of 12-hour shifts, but she insisted that we were already understaffed to begin with. Everyone on the surgery department had to have a twenty-four-hour shift at the E.R. at least every four or five days, why would she be different? We only had two orthopedic surgeons, one cardiothoracic surgeon but another that was on call from Karhold, and one for urology after all. She had to have hours too. I was fortunate to have three alternates in Tormund, Karsi, and Cley Cerwyn, the four of us making up the team of trauma surgeons.

So I tried once more to tell her to go lie down, even suggesting for her to sit on a stool or the floor with a promise to wake her if i needed her but she stubbornly shook her head and never left until the final stitch was done and to her credit, she never showed any sign that she was tired or frustrated and that motivated me to work as fast and as efficient as I ever did in my life.

Then it was done and Waymar Royce was in significantly less danger and had a great chance of waking up sometime this day or tomorrow.

Everyone congratulated us, though they were still frosty with Sansa who just shrugged it off. But I couldn’t take it.

“You were exceptional as always, Dr. Stark,” I said loudly.

She looked up at me for a moment and I think her eyes softened for a second before she turned around and simply gave me a nod and a soft thanks.

“I mean it,” I touched her shoulder. “You did great. He has a fighting chance to wake up from this because of you and everyone knows it.”

She blinked at me, lowered her mask and gave me a brief smile. “Thank you, Dr. Snow.” Then she made her way to the scrub area.

“Give it up, doc. She doesn’t care. And if you didn’t manage him first and page her, Waymar would be good as dead now,” Cottor Pyke, the OR nurse snorted.

I felt incensed. “I pray to the Old Gods every day that one day all of you will open your eyes and see how much we need her here.”

Daeron, the other O.R. nurse rolled his eyes. “We know. We all owe our pathetic jobs to Dr. Stark’s generosity.”

I pulled him by his scrubs all ready to hit him when I felt a hand on my shoulder, I turned and all my anger melted away when I was met with blue eyes once more.

She was frowning then and gave a slight shake of her head before speaking in her neutral voice again. “Dr. Snow, I need to ask your expert opinion on something. Will you come with me?”

I nodded at her while I shot Cottor and Daeron another glare before following Sansa to the scrub room.

When we got there, she didn’t say anything, just stepped on the switch for the faucet and started washing her hands and arms, methodical as ever and I realized she just said those things to me so I wouldn’t start a fight.

I sighed and washed my hands as well. But I couldn’t let it go no matter how much I tried. “You shouldn’t let them talk to you like that.”

She didn’t look up. “But they didn’t.” She dipped her arm under the spray. “They didn’t talk to me at all.”

I let out a frustrated breath. “You know what I mean.”

She sighed then and nudged the switch off with her foot while she pulled a drying sheet. “It doesn’t bother me.”

I threw the scrub I was using to remove some of the dried blood that caked on my upper arm. “Well it should.”

She looked at me then and her eyes flashed with something before turning cold and expressionless, her chin tilted up slightly as she spoke in that damned detached calm voice of hers. “What do you think I should do? Tell them off? Yell at them? Demand an apology? Grovel at them? Kiss ass? Explain how I didn’t ask for this? Any of this? Explain that this was a duty that was asked of me?”

I yanked my cap off and ran my hand over my hair. “I don’t know. But you have to say something – anything. Your indifference is doing nothing to help you.”

She looked taken aback then – the first chink of her armor. And finally, her face contorted into that of anger as she tore off her cap, her red hair tumbling once more as her eyes blazed with emotion. “You think I’m indifferent? That I don’t care? That this doesn’t in the slightest affect me?”

I stood there stunned to silence but she wasn’t done yet.

I saw her body tremble, her chest heaving as she drew angry breaths, her eyes blazing, her mouth curling, revealing pearly white teeth as her red hair whipped around her face in gentle waves, slightly mussed from being tucked the whole time, bouncing as she spoke, her tone low, calm but deadly.

She placed a hand on her heart and looked me straight. “I care.”

“I care,” she repeated more furious than the first time.

Then her face fell but her body still trembled and there it was.

“I care,” she whispered, her words catching and breaking and all I wanted was to hold her and make everything alright. "More than you think, I do care."

She was beautiful without even trying, but now she was downright glorious in her fury, and impossibly heartbreaking when she was vulnerable.

I made a step closer when she suddenly took a step back and shook her head, her eyes closing in defiance as she stood rigid.

“They told me that many people died not getting the treatment they needed in the North. They told me how much it took to cross the Neck just for thirty minutes of a simple consult that couldn’t be given here. And… they told me they were closing the hospital that saved my brother’s life. They didn’t need to give me any other position other than just being allowed to serve. I would’ve said yes without questions regardless. But if a duty was given to you and from people who are honorable and who you trust completely, you don’t question, you just do it. If I leave just because I can’t endure some bad words, and scathing, judging looks, then I would be selfish, and most of all I would violate an oath,” she said slowly and carefully.

She looked up at me then and gave me a soft look.

“Primum non nocere,” she said before she left me alone completely.

I sucked in a breath and my heart was filled with incredible awe and respect for Sansa Stark and equally incredible shame for myself and the whole bloody staff off this bloody hospital.

Primum non nocere.

It was part of our Hippocratic Oath, sworn by every doctor, though not in the oath itself, but it was implied as was taught to as part of the four main principles of bioethics every sworn doctor takes to heart.

First, do no harm.

“If it won’t help the patient, don’t do it.” I remember Dr. Tyrion Lannister explaining it as he lectured back in med school.

“Primum non nocere,” Sansa’s voice ghosted once more.

And that was when I knew I fell in love.

I found her on the roof deck, sitting cross-legged and half-hidden in a shaded corner, the dull winter sunlight showing it was near mid-morning. She was still wearing her scrubs and was puffing on a cigarette.

“Those things will kill you,” I started, holding back a chuckle. She didn’t look up, just shrugged and took another drag.

I sat down beside her not caring if I was invited or not. I held my hand out and she eyed me at last before soundlessly handing me her stick. I took a long drag and exhaled smoke both through my nose and my mouth, remembering like a green boy that my lips were touching what was only moments ago, was between hers.

“I mean it, these things will kill you,” I repeated while taking another drag like the stereotypical hypocrite doctor and his vices.

“Now more than ever, now that I’m inhaling second-hand smoke. And you’re one to talk when I see you sneaking one in almost every after two surgeries,” she pointed out.

I chuckled. “Didn’t think you’d notice that.”

She placed her face on her hands and leant forward a bit. “I notice everything,” she breathed.

My chest caught and I held back a sigh and kept my hands in my pockets lest I pull her to me and rock her against my chest while I scream at the world.

“This is only the second time I’ve seen you smoke. I don’t want you to start a habit. It’s really bad for you,” I decided to press.

I saw a corner of her lips twitch. “Didn’t think you’d notice that,” she echoed my words and I laughed then. “Maybe you haven’t been looking too much to catch my third and fourth time smoking.”

“No, believe me, when it comes to you, I notice,” I said deciding to be brave and upfront for once because I knew she’d appreciate it.

Definitely a restrained smile there but she didn’t look at me still.

“Still, you should quit before you get hooked. We took vows, you know,” I pressed. "And I used to smoke after each surgery. I'm on my way to complete recovery soon."

A laugh escaped. It was brief and borderline sarcastic but it was lovely. “I’m not harming anyone. I smoke in open air.”

“Yes you are. You’re killing yourself,” I pressed some more. “And we need you alive, Dr. Stark.”

She started to sigh but I stubbed the stick and flicked it over the trash and started talking before she protested. “I don’t mean us – the hospital though we do need you. I meant your patients and patients-to-be.”

She looked at me then and quirked a brow. “You still said ‘us’ though. And I don’t recall you being my patient. Or did you hit your head recently.”

I laughed again. She was too smart for her own good. “Maybe I did.”

“Did what? Say ‘us’ or hit your head?” she smirked.

I looked her straight in the eye then. “Both,” I paused. “I think I hit my head when I started falling for you.”

That wiped the smirk off her face then as she regarded me, looking for any sign that I was joking but I have never been serious as I was now.

She was the first to look away, bringing her knees closer to her chest as she continued to look beyond the Wall. “Maybe you hit your head too hard. Because what you’re saying makes no sense.”

Silence again and then she spoke once more. “You don’t have to.”

“Have to what? Fall madly in love with you?” I challenged.

That brought a blush to her cheeks. “Whatever it is. You don’t have to be nice to me, or talk to me or –

I cut her off by kissing her and pulling away but keeping my forehead pressed to hers. “I don’t have to do that either.”

She didn’t pull away but she didn’t lean closer either and after a pause she spoke. “No, you don’t.”

“Primum non nocere,” I whispered before pulling away slightly.

She looked at me with confusion in her eyes.

���Am I violating anything here?” I asked.

She blushed some more and was seemingly debating in her mind before she finally relaxed and shook her head, her eyes she shutting close before leaning her head on my shoulder.

I grinned as I let her. My hands twitching to wrap my arms around her but I knew it wasn’t prudent at this time.

“You don’t need to protect me. I don’t need protecting,” she said after a while.

“You don’t,” I agreed.

“I can handle myself,” she continued.

I nodded. “You can.”

“No one can protect anyone, not really,” she whispered.

“I know. But there’s no harm if I try, right?” I asked.

She looked up at me then and after a few heart beats she finally graced me with a beatific smile. “No.” She looked away shyly. “Not if you really want too.”

I tilted her face to look at me then, stroking her cheeks until her eyes met mine. “I do. I really want to.”

“You don’t have to,” she said again but this time with significantly less convincing tone.

I chuckled. “I know.  But I really, really, want to.”

“Why?”

I gave her a playful smile. “Why? Because you don’t deserve their treatment? The damned hospital doesn’t deserve you, period? Because you are the most selfless doctor I’ve ever met and everyone should see that? Because it’s part of my new vow?”

She quirked her head. “Vow?”

I nodded. “I vow to hurt anyone who hurts you,” I said smugly.

She frowned at me and pinched my arm hard. “Ow!”

I looked at her and she arched her brow at me. “That’s not a very good vow.”

“Oh? How so?” I massaged my arm.

“Because no one can hurt me without my permission,” she said haughtily and I swear I fell in love with her more.

“That’s true, your highness,” I retorted, getting the reference right.

She laughed then and I was struck dumb at how beautiful it was.

She looked up at me with that adorable pucker in her brows again. “What?”

“You should smile more. I don’t want to relinquish my title of Dr. McBroody yet,” I winked.

She laughed again, trying to cover her mouth demurely as she did. “Fine,” she nodded. “Gods, forbid.”

I laughed with her then and after the high we found ourselves both smiling at each other.

I traced the shadows under her eyes and felt her lashes flutter against my fingers as she closed her eyes.

“You should really get some sleep. I know you’ve been up here since the surgery. Believe me I checked the quarters many times.”

“I’m sorry for getting mad at you at the scrub room,” she apologized, ignoring my statement.

I shook my head. “You needed that. Hells, we all need to apologize to you.”

She sighed then shook her head in turn. “I can’t help how other people feel for me. I can only just be myself and do my job.”

I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well you’re right about one thing.”

She opened her eyes then and peered at me. “Hmmm?”

“You can’t help how other people feel for you,” I repeated her words. “Just as you can’t help me from having feelings for you.”

She blushed again before biting her lip and looking up at me from below her long lashes, the light in her eyes dancing. “Oh, I think I can help you with your feelings a little.” She said as she fiddled with the ties of my scrub top.

I couldn’t help but grin then. “How?”

“Will I… be violating anything if I kissed you right now?”

I groaned and cupped her face with my hands. “Sweetheart, you could never be more benevolent. Put me out of my misery Dr. Stark, and kiss me.”

“Well if it really helps you –

I cut her off by kissing her again.

People were definitely going to talk once they see us together but I’m not going to keep this – us – a secret and I’m not going to let her endure further scrutiny alone anymore. She’s right. I can’t protect her, not really, but damn it I’ll try.

First do no harm.

I’m sure the gods will forgive me if I pommel the next guy who slanders my Sansa. Because gods damn it, “harming” her was going to cause more harm for everyone. Not when she was only doing her job above all which was much I could say about everybody else.  And doing this would definitely be the lesser evil.

Primum non nocere.

There were three corollary principles with this vow.

One, where harm cannot be avoided, we are obligated to minimize the harm we do.

Two, don’t increase the risk of harm to others.

Lastly, it is wrong to waste resources that could be used for good.

And protecting Sansa and treating Dr. Stark with the admiration, love, and respect she deserved, and throttling all the little shits that mistreats her would be checking all the boxes of fulfilling my Hippocratic Oath.

She pulled away and smiled at me. "We saved a life together, today."

I grinned back. "We did."

And just like that reality decided to burst our bubble when my pager beeped.

I sighed as I read it.

"Time for you to save more, Dr. Snow," she poked me.

I kissed her again, stood up and held out my hand to her. "Time for us to save some more, Dr. Stark."

She laughed as she accepted my hand as I helped her up, shaking her head. "Oh not for another twelve hours, Dr. Snow. Unlike you, I'm still technically off-duty."

I chuckled. "You truly are too smart for your own good."

"Come on, let's go. Do your job and maybe I'll have breakfast with you on your break."

I swung our hands that were still clasped together as we walked. "You don't have to." I teased her.

She smiled widely at that. "I know I don't."

"But I'll be happy if you do," I admitted.

"There's no harm in making a doctor on duty happy, is there?" She beamed at me.

I had to stop and kiss her again. "Definitely no harm at all."

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10311980

#ladymdfic #jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon snow x sansa stark #my fic