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Over the years, Jon has learned that jealousy is an ugly emotion. Yet, when Robb tells him that Sansa was the one who asked Dickon Tarly to auction off a date for her fundraising event, he feels the monstrous emotion climb ir’s way up from the unknown.
“What do you mean she asked him? As in... she called and -”
“Yeah, exactly. She just called him and he said yes. No surprise she did it, though. Dickon’s handsome and single, plenty of girls would love to win a date with him.”
“Sure, but – Sansa was the one who called him? She wanted him to do it?“
Robb shrugged. “Her first choice, according to Marg. Maybe she wants to bid on him.”
Jon tried not to frown. “You think she’s into him?”
Robb looked at him innocently. “Well, I mean... who knows? It’s not like anyone else has shown any interest in her. Maybe she’s taking matters into her own hands.”
“You mean with Dickon.”
Robb sighs dramatically. “I don’t know, Jon. Maybe you should join the auction and see if she’d bid on you instead.”
Though thrown as a sarcastic comment, Jon takes it as a suggestion. “Yeah, maybe I’ll do that.” When he notices Robb’s expression, he backtracks. “Not the Sansa part, just – it’s a fundraising, right? I’m eligible... I should try and help out however I can.”
Robb tries not to smirk. “Uh-huh. Sure.”
*
“Hey, San, guess who just called?”
Sansa looked up from her laptop, turning her attention to her best friend from the kitchen.
They’ve been finalizing the event details for hours now so she doesn’t immediately notice the teasing tone. “Uh, hopefully not one of the vendors trying to cancel on us. Who?”
“Jon Snow, asking if we were still looking for volunteers for the auction,” Marg tells her with a smirk.
“What?” Sansa schools her face to reveal nothing. “You mean for the items, right? Something he wants to auction off?”
“Something, yeah,” Marg agreed innocently. “As in a date with him. For the later part of the evening. Remember? I thought you told me you asked him and he wasn’t interested.”
Sansa blinked. “Um, maybe – he changed his mind?”
Marg snorted. “Or maybe you didn’t ask him in the first place?”
Sansa genuinely considered lying but it’s no use. Marg would see right through that. She didn’t even look convinced the first time.
“Okay, fine,” She said with a sigh. “I didn’t ask him.”
“And why not?” Marg asked, though she obviously already knows.
“You know why.” her best friend doesn’t let it go, staring at her until she says it out loud. “Because I don’t want to watch girls trying to outbid each other for a date with him. Happy now?”
*
“Okay. You get what you’re doing, right?” Arya asked as she downed a shot of Dornish Rum. “You’re volunteering to date some girl because you’re into my sister.”
“No, that’s not – I didn’t - ” Jon cut himself off, unsure how to respond.
It’s true that he didn’t think this through carefully; all he remembers is Robb telling him that Sansa might be into Dickon Tarly and there he is. Auctioning off a date for Marg and Sansa’s fundraising event.
Logically, it doesn’t add up. What does he think would happen here? That if Sansa saw him, she’d bid on him instead of Dickon?
That doesn’t even make sense. This is her event, why would she even bid on anyone?
“Let me guess,” Arya said with a smirk. “Robb?”
Jon sighed and that’s apparently enough of an answer.
“Now it all makes sense,” Arya said, raising her bidding card. “He made me get this for Sansa.” Then she patted him on the back, smiling brightly. “Don’t worry, I got you.”
Jon frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I know, like – three people in this event that Sansa gets jealous of when it comes to you. I can get at least one of them to bid on you, motivate her to outbid them. Not that I approve of this but we’ll work with what we have.”
“Wait, what?” He looked at Arya in surprise. “What do you mean because of me? Sansa’s jealous? Of me or – like? What? Who’s she jealous of?”
She shook her head, amused. “She’s jealous of literally any girl you interact with, just think of the ones at this event that you interact with often. Excluding me. My sister has got it that bad for you, you dumb nugget.”
“Sansa’s - that’s not - ” he stuttered, too preoccupied with the concept that he misses the insults. “She’s into Dickon, Robb said -”
“And you’re listening to my brother, why? Has he heard Sansa go on and on about your pretty, pouty lips? Because I have and it's disgusting.” She paused for a second and then laughed. “Hold on, you think she’s into Dickon?”
“Yeah. She asked him to do this, didn’t she? ”
“You were jealous that she wanted Dickon to auction off a date with other girls. Because that somehow means she wants to bang him? Wow, this is a new level of ignorance I was hoping you wouldn’t reach.”
It doesn’t make any sense when she puts it like that, but Robb made good points when he told Jon. “Well, whatever. It still means that she thinks Dickon is hot and single and – I don’t know. I know this is stupid, you don’t have to point it out.”
*
The moment Jon comes onstage, Sansa regrets ever agreeing to the whole thing. It was Margaery’s idea to auction off dates from the most eligible bachelors in Westeros to spice things up, to make some noise for their fundraising event.
For most part, the plan has worked and she’s glad for it – but this. This is what she has been dreading ever since she found out that Jon had volunteered.
“Alright, our bachelor number three is Jon Snow. Born and raised in Winterfell, Jon has...” Sansa loses her attention from Loras as he described Jon, too focused on the man himself.
Jon looks nervous onstage but he’s good at hiding it. His jacket is now discarded – Margaery's idea, no doubt – to show how well his suit fits him. He’s standing tall, all serious and brooding. He looks really good, which she already knew going in.
It’s too much for Sansa, honestly.
She shouldn’t have helped him pick out his clothes for tonight, just so she wouldn’t have to worry about more people trying to bid on him.
“Why did he even volunteer for this?” She asked aloud now. “He doesn’t even like going to these things, much less participate in it.”
“Maybe he wants to date,” Arya suggested innocently. “Who knows, maybe he’ll end up marrying whoever wins the date.”
“That’s a little extreme,” Sansa said, trying to convince herself more than trying to convince Arya. “It’s just one date.”
“A lot can happen in one date,” Arya points out. “I’ll bet you a thousand dragons that Jon’s going to marry whoever gets that date.”
Sansa merely rolls her eyes, trying not to let it affect her, but as soon as she hears Val bidding on Jon, she feels herself grow cold.
“Five thousand dragons,” she shouted after Val’s bid, grabbing Arya’s Bid Card for herself in a desperate manner.
The shock comes immediate and she feels everyone’s eyes on her, including Jon. She doesn’t meet his eyes though, turning to Loras instead, urging him to just go on with it and take the attention off of her.
Shit, shit, shit, she thinks, forcing herself not to look in Jon’s reaction. Now he knows.
“Oh-kay, that’s five thousand Dragons from Sansa Stark,” Loras said with a grin. “Do I hear a five thousand, five hundred? Anyone?”
The bidding continues, plenty other girls, including Jon’s friend Val, piping in with their bids. She stops herself from bidding again and she’s been doing a good Job until --
Loras whispered something to Jon and Jon replies with a nod. He watches him straighten up and look among the crowd. He stops only when he meets her eyes, and then he’s unbuttoning the top three buttons on his shirt.
Oh, gods.
“Thirteen thousand,” A light-haired girl says at the front.
Fuck.
“Fifteen thousand,” Sansa pipes in again, just like that.
Next to her, Arya laughed. “What are you doing? You know you’re going to pay for that, right?”
“Sixteen thousand,” The girl shouts again, and fuck it -
“Eighteen thousand,” she says and this time she turns to Jon a gain.
He’s staring at her, wide-eyed and mouth agape, but his lips tilt into a shy smile when he realizes she’s looking, and no way in hell is she losing this.
“Twenty thousand,” the girl at the front says again.
“Holy sh – Twenty thousand from the lady in silver. The thirst is real for Jon Snow tonight, huh.” Loras turns to Sansa expectantly. “Do I hear Twenty thousand, five hundred?”
“Twenty-five thousand dragons,” Sansa said firmly.
“Seven hells, for one date?” Arya asked her incredulously, but Sansa can tell she’s amused by it all. “Jon would literally go out with you for free.”
She ignores it. Even if that’s true, she still doesn’t want Jon to go out with anyone else. Like Arya said, a lot can happen in a date.
“Twenty-Five thousand from my favorite Stark,” Loras announced cheerfully. “A girl who fights for what she wants, I love it. Remember ladies, you still have plenty of other options - but do I hear Twenty- five thousand, five hundred?”
“Let’s get this over with. Forty,” The girl at the front says again, her tone bored now.
“Shit. Who the hell is that?” Arya muttered next to her.
Personally, Sansa knows that spending that much money would defeat the purpose of hosting a fundraiser in the first place but the longer this goes, the less she’s willing to let the girl win.
What if – what if Jon ends up liking her? What if they go on more than one dates and before she knows it, they’re married with children and living a happy life together.
What if this is where she loses him?
She’s about to go higher when someone beats her to it. “Fifty thousand for Sansa Stark,” Robb said, and she turns to find him grinning at her.
“What the hell?” She asked but he waves it off.
“Seems to be a family affair,” Loras noted teasingly. “Fifty thousand for our bachelor number three. Does anyone have a higher bid?" Loras waits for a second but no one responded. Thankfully. “No one? Alright, sold to Sansa Stark for fifty thousand dollars."
“Holy shit,” Arya laughed.
“That’s your birthday gift for the next fifty years,” Robb tells her with a grin. “Marg told me she’d murder me if I let you spend your money on this, so I knew I was going to pay for it anyway. Might as well go all out.”
Sansa blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I needed you guys to fess up to your feelings somehow, and you did.”
“You mean I did.” She said. “Like an idiot. Jon’s not into me like that.”
“You really think Jon would do something this crazy without a motivation? He thought you were going to bid on Dickon.”
“Why would I even – that doesn’t even make sense - ”
“It made sense to him, is what’s important,” Robb said with a snort. “Now go get your man.”
*
“So, um... that was crazy,” Jon said, once they get a moment alone. “Was it a pity bid?”
She looked at him incredulously. “Pity bid? Are you serious?”
He shrugged, shy. “Well, the alternative would be... that you wanted to go on a date with me and that sounds, well... honestly? Too good to be true.”
She feels her cheeks grow warm. “It's not. Too good to be true, I mean. Or, well, I mean – it is true.. That - ”
He chuckled, stepping closer to her. “You’re nervous.”
“Well, um – yeah.” It’s too much; she can’t handle how truly pouty his lips are. ”With you this close, I am.”
His lips curved up. It’s this kind of smile that takes over his entire face; she’d never seen him smile like that before.
He raised his hand to her cheek, leaning in. He doesn’t kiss her though. He stays still, almost like he’s waiting for her to make the move. And she does.
Once they come up for air, he tells her: “Just for future reference, you can have as many dates with me as you want. Free of charge.”
*
Three years later, she hands Arya a thousand dragons.
“What’s this for? It’s your wedding night, shouldn’t I be giving you the gift?”
Sansa grinned, kissing her sister on the cheek. “It’s for the bet.”
“What bet?” Arya asked, confused.
“You bet me a thousand dragons that Jon’s going to marry whoever won that bid, remember? I lost.”
Arya raised an eyebrow, looking up and down to emphasize on the wedding dress she’s wearing. “I'm not sure you lost anything from that bet.”
Sansa smiled, turning her attention to the dance floor where Jon is dancing to a ridiculous pop song with her brothers. “No, I really didn’t.”