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sansa had retreated quietly to her chambers, with only brienne being aware of the red wolf's silent disappearance from the rowdy great hall. the celebration had started while the sun was at its highest, though it did nothing to warm the icy north as the long night crept ever closer. with the king returned to his home, along with the three remaining stark children, sansa surmised that that dancing may not cease for days. there was no feast, everything was being rationed but what they had made do and there was enough ale and wine that not a soul noticed the smaller portions.
arya was dancing with the baratheon bastard when she slipped out, bran was conversing with lady mormont and lord glover and she swore a soft grin crept onto his frozen features. it made her heart soar to see her siblings so content in their home, the starks in winterfell deserved peace even in the darkest of times. but it was jon, stoic and brooding jon, who sat with the silver-haired queen, that was the reason for sansa's withdrawal that night. his parentage having been revealed to those in his tight circle had given her too much false hope as the dragon queen had clearly sunk her talons in. he wore an uncharacteristically large smile and he joked with the lords and lady's, even permitting a dance for daenerys. he was so obviously in his cups and even more obviously besotted with his aunt that sansa couldn't bear to stomach it a second longer.
her maids had unlaced her heavy gown for her and sat her down to begin brushing through her hair and she looked in the mirror and couldn't help but take in her features and wonder what it was that she did not possess that daenerys did. it surely wasn't the title of queen, her cousin wasn't interested in a throne. she did lack the silver hair and violet eyes but her own copper locks and tully blues were striking enough, for her at the very least. once her maid was done brushing sansa thanked her before dismissing her, left merely in her shift and thin dressing gown she lowered herself into the furs in front of her fire, just like she would do in her mother and fathers chambers in her childhood, she would always wake up in her own bed, tucked in nice and snug by her father.
she didn't even realise she'd drifted off until she was startled from her dreams by raucous banging on her door and she stumbled in her haste to answer it if only to keep the quiet in this area of the old castle. she lifted the lock before opening the heavy door and wiping the sleep from her eyes, though they widened and her back straightened when she realised it was jon instead of arya, brienne or her serving girl coming to check on her. he swayed on the spot and his grey eyes were bloodshot as they sought after her own, reaching a hand out he braced himself on the doorframe to keep from tripping. everything in her screamed against grasping his hand and pulling him into her chambers, but as soon as she did her immediate justification was that no one should be seeing the king in this kind of state.
he stumbled as she gently tugged him inside, murmuring nonsensical sentences and tucking his arm around her small waist. "san please," was all she was able to make out as she sat him in the chair in front of her dying fire. she hastened to get him a glass of water, he wouldn’t be able to leave until he was no longer in his cups and she aimed to make that as soon as possible if only out of fear for what could be said on her part. she pressed the cool glass into his hand, kneeling before him and silently urging him to drink, he took it just as quietly, tipping his head back and emptying it with measured gulps.
his eyes raked over her slowly and she pulled the dressing gown tighter across her with a scowl, apparently all it took was a barrel of ale to give him interest in her. "why are you here, jon?" sansa asked him, her voice didn't dare go above a whisper. "you haven't spoken to me since we got back to winterfell san, not even in the council meeting, not after it, not when i came to the godswood. i need you to talk to me, i'm going mad here." her hands had found their way to his knees, and they were quickly covered by his own calloused and scarred ones, she hastily retracted them when he spoke, reminded of just why she'd been avoiding him, avoiding his desire for closeness, even though his silver-haired queen was close by. "i'm merely keeping my distance for i feared i would not successfully hold my tongue over your questionable decisions as of late." his face immediately showed his regret and sansa stood because now was not the time to melt, if he chose the fire queen, she would be the opposite. an ice queen.
she stoked the fire and watched it flare up, trying to focus on anything besides jon's seemingly laboured breathing. "i think, jon, that it would be best for you to leave," she sighed quietly. "i can fetch arya to help you to your own chambers but it isn't proper for you to be in my own. besides, your queen will be wondering where you've gotten to." she didn't dare face him as she spoke, and soon she felt the soft brush of his lips on her hair and then her forehead. "it will all make sense in the end sansa, i promise you."