Work Text:
“Mother.”
Sansa blinks, shifts nervously upon seeing it's her lady mother at her doors and not… well. I don't even know if he'll come. She shouldn’t want him to come to her chambers, not only it wouldn’t be proper, but entirely too… Too what? She wonders, but not for long, her mind is quick to provide her with a word – dangerous .
“May I come in, Sansa?”
She starts, hastens to move aside. “Yes, of course.”
She knows a moment of hesitation, before moving to her dresser as calmly as possible, despite her racing heart. By the time she sits in front of it, her mother has the comb in hand, ready to brush her hair; not something they do often as of late, so Sansa will enjoy this before the calm is inevitably broken by what’s to come. Because this is no casual visit, she knows; Mother wouldn’t demand answers from Jon, so she comes to her.
Father had spoken to both, together, and perhaps that’d been what worked in their favor. Sansa and her slightly widened eyes, head tilted to the side, hands perfectly folded over her lap. The perfect picture of a lady. But it’d been her earnest and innocent words what had truly done it:
“I just want to spend time with my brother, Father. Is that wrong of me?”
Brother. The one word she’d known for sure would ease Father’s misgivings, and it’d worked perfectly. It isn’t even a lie, I do wish to spend time with Jon. Always, endlessly, would if she could stop time and have them live the rest of their lives within these walls; and perhaps it is wrong to romanticize this, what they have, what they do , but Sansa can’t help it now.
“I just want to understand,” Mother says at last. “You never… before .”
“I never hated him, Mother.”
Her lady mother sighs, rests her hands on her shoulders, and through the mirror, she looks as conflicted as she sounds. “I know that. But you never called him… brother .” It must’ve been a struggle for her mother, to keep the anger and hurt and resentment out of her voice; Sansa appreciates the effort. “What happened ?”
“The Night’s Watch happened.” He came back different; I couldn’t help it. I kissed him and he kissed me back. I asked and he said yes; he gave me everything I wanted from him. Then he asked and I said yes; forgive me, Mother, but I cannot stop. “The Great War happened.”
Her lady mother keeps quiet and resumes brushing her hair. “My darling girl, can I trust you?” She asks, after a while. “Can I trust him ?”
So long as they both hide behind the comfort of vagueness, Sansa will rest easy in knowing her answer is the absolute truth.
“Yes,” she says, firmly and meeting resolutely a reflection of her own eyes. “Yes, Mother, you can.”