Chapter Text
The first time he noticed her freckles was while they were arguing.
It was late at night and the candles burned low, with the wild wind howling outside but the King of the North and the Lady of Winterfell were still awake, keeping each other up over their disagreements and raised voices. They were in each other's faces and with only a sliver of space between them that they could feel each other's breath. Almost keeping each other warm from the bitter cold of winter. They often argued and their arguments were often full of passion. This one was no different.
The air was full of static and all Jon could do was stare at her. Jon stared at her a lot ever since they first reunited. He would stare at her and wonder how it came to be that she was in front of him, with him. And every time he stared at her, he would notice something different about the woman Sansa had grown into.
This time it was the freckles. There were only a few of them, spread across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. They were small and from a far hardly noticeable. Some of them were orange and some of them brown and some of them almost black. Sansa was a stunning woman, people often commented on her auburn hair and Tully eyes, saying she was her mother reborn. But she had true northern skin, white and smooth, unblemished like the snow that fell from the Northern skies. Except for those freckles. These insignificant freckles fascinated Jon. They made his sister even more beautiful if that was possible
"Jon!" Cried Sansa, waving her hand in front of his face to get his attention.
"You have freckles." was the only thing Jon could comment, his eyes roving across those precious small dots on her face.
Sansa frowned, scrunching her nose and hiding briefly the freckles, "What are you talking about?" she leaned away from him and this fully woke Jon up, being as enchanted by those freckles as he was, he moved away from her.
"Nothing, it is nothing. The hour is late and I am going to bed." He started to pack away the records on Winterfell, the source of their argument, and would not look at her again.
Sansa huffed and he could tell she was unhappy with him, even more so than before. "You never listen to me." And she left him. Jon could only stand and shake his head at himself.
She was a beautiful woman, his sister. Jon knew this all too well.