Chapter Text
Jon barely slept the night before he was to meet his half-sister at the docks, every time he closed his eyes he was sure he could hear the horses of the Kingsguard nearing his doors. A string of bad things had happened to him and his family from the moment Robert Baratheon came to Winterfell and now that he was close to getting something resembling happiness it seemed unlikely that fate was going to allow him to have it.
So he kept tossing and turning until he realized he would get no sleep that night and decided it was best to prepare his things for their journey, he packed the few things he carried with himself and decided to go earlier to the docks, fearing something might happen that would stop him from reaching Sansa in time.
He was so close now and that only seemed to make him more afraid.
The sun was not yet in the sky when he reached the ship that was meant to sail him and his half-sister to the other side of the world, but hints of that orange morning glow seemed to be looming in the horizon. The sun was coming out soon and he only prayed him and Sansa could be far away from King’s Landing when that time came.
Finding the ship’s crew up and ready to sail didn’t surprise him, what in fact did was to see a cloaked figure standing close to the water, a shaking hand clutching the fabric of her cloak close to her chest and a dark shoe tapping impatiently the floorboards.
Jon felt something swell in his chest at the sight. He would never admit it but up until that moment he had feared Sansa would chicken out, she had never been especially brave nor had she wanted anything to do with him but here she was now, no longer the silly little girl he once knew.
“You’re here early” He said once he was close enough for her to hear him.
Her head swirled in his direction and a look of pure relief crossed her features “You came” She threw herself at him and held onto him for dear life, Sansa’s hugs were something she so easily gave to Robb but never to him, it felt a bit odd to be the one receiving them now, made him feel like an usurper “I was afraid you wouldn’t show”
Jon gave her a stern look “I promised to protect you. And I will”
She nodded before throwing a quick glance to the ship behind her “Where will we go?”
He released a deep sigh “Where our names don’t matter” His lips curled in a sour smile “I guess mine never mattered anyway”
A flash of guilt crossed her face “Do you think we’ll be safe across the sea?” She whispered, unable to meet his stare.
“I’ve heard there’s an exiled dragon who has managed to survive across the sea” He said, a playful twinkle in his eyes that almost made her smile “Perhaps we can be the same. Would you like that?”
The girl nodded before casting a long look to the road from where she had come “I’m tired of being afraid, I just want to be at peace” Her words were sharp and the heaviness behind them was enough to break his heart “If this is it then so be it”
He pulled the cloak over his head and offered her his hand “Come then Sansa”
She stared at the extended hand for a brief second before placing her delicate hand in his and squeezing tightly “Thank you Jon” She said while offering him the first genuine smile he had seen directed at him “For rescuing me”
* * * *
If he was honest with himself, he had doubted she would settle to life in Braavos as easily as she did. Sansa was used to fine things, beautiful clothes and people serving her at beck and call, and their quiet life at Braavos offered none of that, though perhaps he wasn’t being fair at all since the girl that had left Winterfell so many moons ago no longer exist, replaced by the soft-spoken untrusting woman he had found in that garden not long ago.
She didn’t say much, his sister. After sharing a heartfelt moment in their ship to Braavos where she asked for his forgiveness in account of the way she treated him while being children she had barely spoken about their past life, about their siblings or their father, and what had happened to her in the Red Keep.
It was as if once she crossed the sea to Essos Sansa ceased to exist, in her place was Alayne, a merchant girl who sold fruits alongside him in the small stand they had managed to get a couple of weeks after their arrival. She had thrown herself into the part like a professional, determined to erase the memory of that red-haired girl she once was.
He missed her hair. He once heard that the wildings said redheads had been kissed by fire but her luscious tresses were now as black as his and hardened her features though they didn’t make her any less beautiful. In fact, it was as if once she left Westeros behind all the heaviness that seemed etched on her face had faded and she had bloomed, becoming more beautiful if that was even possible. It worried him, how often he noticed how often he caught himself staring at her, completely lost in her every move.
He still called her Sansa when they were alone in the privacy of the room they shared in the small inn of the city, though every time it happened he saw her flinch a bit more as if she was also forgetting who she truly was. It made something in his chest ache.
One night on their second month in the new city he arrived at their room and found her sitting on the floor by the window, shaking from head to toe.
“What happened?” He rushed to hear, his hand going to cup her face and making her watery blue eyes look at him “Sansa darling, tell me what’s wrong?” He checked her for injuries but found none.
“He’s dead” A small manic laugh escaped her lips, “They said the King’s dead” She burst into a full-on laugh, her face twisted into a hysterical expression “He was poisoned at his own wedding”
“Jeoffrey—“
“Shh” She placed a finger against his lips “Don’t say his name” A shadow crossed her features, something dark and twisted shining in her blue eyes before she threw herself at him, her lips landing against his in a sloppy careless way.
Jon would like to say he pushed her right away but he didn’t, he allowed her to kiss him for a few seconds before she stopped herself and pulled away immediately “I’m sorry, I—“ She stood up and locked herself away in the bathroom for the rest of the night.
The following day it was as if nothing had happened, they were polite to each other and barely said a word as they readied themselves for work, but Jon had the feel of her lips against his all morning.
By their fourth month, one of the courtesans who purchased her fruits with them regularly called him her husband and Sansa didn’t correct her, instead she just smiled and chatted her up, acting as if the mistake the woman had made was nothing out of the ordinary.
That night he arrived at their room and found her sitting in his bed, naked as the day she was born and tangled in his bed sheets.
He gulped, hands sweating as he tried to avert his gaze from her nude body “What is the meaning of this?”
“They believe me to be your wife” She whispered as she moved to kneel on the mattress, the bed sheet twisting with the movements so it covered her from the waist down, a small modesty.
“Aye but that is not the true,” He said as he clutched the doorknob behind him, he could feel himself getting hard despite his better judgment, and that frightened him “You are my sister”
“No” Her hands moved through her dark black hair drawing attention to her heavy breasts, full and creamy, her nipples a dusty rose-colored peak “Sansa Stark was your half-sister. I am Alayne, and she is your wife”
“Sansa—“Jon released a pained whimper when she moved to rise from the bed, the bedsheet was forgotten behind, baring her to him completely, allowing him a first glimpse of her cunt.
“Please Jon” She said as she walked towards him “Let me be your wife. Just for tonight”
He pressed himself against the door, his heart beating a mile a minute “It’s not right”
She chuckled as she reached him “Nothing of what was done to us was right, nothing” She wasn’t able to hide the pain behind her words “You’re all I have left, I want to give you everything I have” Her hands found his and took them to her breasts, she was cold and her skin broke into goosebumps when he touched her.
The blood in his veins was burning as he allowed himself the small pleasure of tweaking one of her nipples, wondering if the caress made wetness dampen the curls between her legs before he remembered who the woman she was touching was.
Jon released a shaky breath before dropping his hands from her body “Sweet girl, you don’t have to give me anything” His hand now cupped her cheek, pure tenderness etches into his face as he stared down at her “You owe me nothing”
She shook her head vehemently “But I do, I owe you everything” She whispered as she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her body into his “And I want to—I want to feel loved, like the girls from the songs” She nuzzled his neck, his hands going to her naked waist to steady her, the coldness of her skin making him tremble, making him yearn for things he shouldn’t.
“Sansa—“
“Don’t you love me Jon?” She said and for the first time since he found her Jon caught a glimpse of the idealistic child she once was “Don’t you want to love me”
He answered her with a kiss instead of words. Afterwards Jon would lay awake punishing himself with guilt for the sin he had committed but in the moment he couldn’t think about how wrong what they were doing was. He kissed her and took her in his arms and touched her like he never touched a woman before. So many times he had refused to lay with a woman for the fear of getting a bastard into her but that didn’t matter here, between the sheets with a woman who was once his sister he allowed himself to find pleasure in another body for the first time.
And it was blissful.
That night she stopped being his sister, and he stopped being an honorable man.