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Arthur had never hesitated to be a father to Jon when he married Lyanna. Jon was such a sweet boy and how could he not love him when he was part of Lyanna and part of his friend Rhaegar?
He hadn’t planned on falling for his friend’s widow. It had just happened. But he had not regretted a single moment of it. And Jon had been so happy to have him in their family, he remembered his little seven-year-old face lighting up as he realised Arthur was going to stay permanently.
He wouldn’t ever want to take Rhaegar’s memory from Jon. But he hoped that Jon thought of him as a father figure, someone who he could confide in about anything.
But in the weeks since Lyanna tragically passed away the realisation that he and Jon were not biologically related had never been clearer to him. He didn’t know what to do or say to bring Jon out of his room and he wondered if there had been some biological tie between them, he would have instinctively known what to do, like Lyanna always had.
He had resorted to asking his sister Ashara for advice but she had merely told him that Jon was an thirteen-year-old boy who had lost both his father and mother before even reaching his teenage years. Lyanna’s death had probably triggered memories of Rhaegar’s passing too.
“I know you think you’re overstepping because you’re not his biological dad. But you need to just sit him down and ask him what he is feeling, what he is thinking. That is the best way to figure out what to do.”
And so, he had found himself on the park bench of the dog park with Jon sitting beside him, twirling a branch absentmindedly between his thumb and forefinger. He figured the sight of dogs would relax Jon and, maybe if it became too much to talk about, make him feel better.
“So,” he started, clearing his throat when Jon glanced at him, those grey eyes a mirror of Lyanna’s. “So, Johnny boy. Would you like to talk to me about anything?”
Jon said nothing, turning his gaze back onto the branch. Arthur sighed, his breath fading into the winter air between them.
“Is it just about your mum?” he continued, watching Jon shift slightly. “Or is it something else? School? Are you being bullied?”
“No,” Jon whispered, but even though his voice was soft, Arthur knew he was telling the truth.
“You can tell me you know. I want to help Jon.”
“Really?” Jon questioned, finally looking up at him again with a small frown.
“Of course,” Arthur assured him.
“Even if there is nothing you can do to help.”
“Even if that is the case, yes,” Arthur promised, throwing an arm around his shoulder and giving him a reassuring hug.
“Well, the truth is.” Jon licked his lips and then shrugged. “I’m in love.”
The laugh bubbled out of Arthur’s throat before he could stop it. “Aren’t you a little young to be in love?”
“No,” Jon replied seriously, sobering Arthur immediately.
“Oh, okay.” He cleared his throat. “Well I’m a little relieved!”
“Why?”
“Because I thought it was something worse?”
Jon wrinkled his nose. “Worse than the total agony of being in love?”
“Uh, well,” Arthur started before sighing in defeat. “No, you’ve got me there, lad.”
***
“So, what is her name?”
“Sansa. She’s an exchange student from Winterfell and has the prettiest red hair and big blue eyes. She sings like an angel and when she played the harp in music one day, I was a goner.”
“Uh-huh. And how does she feel about you?”
“She probably doesn’t even know me,” Jon sighed. He definitely didn’t think he stood much chance against the kings around the school like Joffrey Baratheon and Harrold Hardying.
“Okay. Well, you should just tell her that you love her.”
“No, all the boys say they love her. I have to show her I love her. By playing the piano.”
“Playing the piano?” Arthur echoed, puzzled.
“Yeah. She needs someone to help her for the show. I already signed up.”
“But…you don’t play the piano.”
“Well, I’ve already bagged a tutor. So, I’ll be staying late from school every night now until the week of the play,” Jon replied simply.
***
So, maybe he had underestimated the amount of time he really needed to learn the piano. Jon was nothing if not stubborn. Even if Arthur groaned at six thirty in the morning as Jon got up to practice, he would not, could not, be deterred.
Sansa loved music. He had to absolutely nail this and impress her so he could muster the courage to then, finally, tell her that he was smitten for her.
Thankfully, even if he was rather grumbled, Arthur was understanding of how much it meant to Jon. He would heat up the leftovers of dinner for Jon when he wandered in from after school practices, and he paid for a piano to go into the living room.
Sometimes, he would meet Sansa’s eye as he walked into the classroom, but he always had to duck his head shyly. He had never been particularly good at talking to girls as it was, let alone when he was in love with them.
But he wished he could be brave enough to look at her properly and see if there was anything there.
When the day of the show arrived, Arthur had had to grab his shoulders and practically manhandle him into a chair to stop him from wearing a hole into the carpet from his pacing.
“I don’t think I can do it,” Jon muttered, pressing his hands over his face as he fought to control his breathing.
“I think this is more than just nerves for the show,” Arthur said knowingly.
“She’s leaving for Winterfell tonight,” Jon sighed. “So, it has all been pointless.”
“Not at all,” Arthur countered. “I mean, you know your mother and I did long distance for a while, when I was in King’s Landing.”
“That’s not even half the distance to Winterfell!” Jon scoffed.
“Well, no. But it was hard to do even six years ago. You and Sansa can stay in contact pretty easily these days. Don’t let a few hundred miles put you off your dreams son.”
For some reason, the small word made Jon feel better and a smile took over before he could even think to stop it. And Arthur looked so frightened in that moment, as if he had crossed the line, that Jon knew he had to say the truth.
“You’re a great dad, by the way.”
The relief flooded across Arthur’s face before he composed himself again. “Come on, get your things sorted. We have a girl’s heart to win!”
***
Jon could see Arthur in the audience as Sansa started to sing the beautiful melody of “All I want for Christmas” and he sent a quick wink his way that eased Jon’s nerves.
Until, Sansa turned to face him, the sweetest smile on her face as she pointed towards him and blasted out the line “All I want for Christmas is you.”
Jon felt his entire his face burning as his heart pounded in his chest. His brain told him she was just singing along, trying to calm himself enough to continue to play the end of the song.
The crowd was on their feet and Sansa shyly waved her thanks, smiling adoringly at the reactions. And then her mother was there, holding Sansa’s jacket over one arm and her case in the other. Jon felt his heart plummet.
He was too late.
“Johnny boy! What a fantastic show!” Arthur cried, ruffling his hair.
“Thanks,” Jon sighed, casting a glance towards where Sansa was being led away, surrounded by her family. “But it didn’t work.”
“You really think she’s the one?”
“Absolutely.”
“Tell her then,” Arthur urged. “Tell her that you love her!”
Not giving Jon time to answer, he grabbed his hand and rushed him through the crowd of people. Jon caught a glimpse of Sansa’s red hair as she ducked into the people carrier that the Starks had hired for their time down in the capital. Pointing her out, Arthur nodded, running towards his own parked car with Jon close behind.
“Seatbelt!” Jon admonished, as Arthur started the car and moving out of the space.
“I’m trying to get you to the love of your life mate,” he huffed, tugging the seatbelt across himself as they stopped at the junction.
“Can’t do that if you die,” he responded.
“Urgh, you are so like your mother,” Arthur laughed, giving him a playful cuff over the head. Jon smiled.
“How did you tell mum that you loved her?”
“I just… did,” Arthur replied. “It wasn’t a great romantic gesture. I just had this need to tell her one day and so, I did.”
“Huh,” Jon commented, glancing down at his hands. “I think I thought too much about this. I thought I had to get it right you know? Sansa is a huge romantic and I just wanted to find the perfect moment.”
“Well, chasing down your love at the airport is in the top romantic tropes for sure so you’ve achieved it,” Arthur teased.
Arthur tried to park up close to the Stark’s car at the airport, but the attendant was having none of it, pointing him along to the next block. Jon’s knuckles were white with how hard he clenched his fists in order to battle his nerves.
“We have time,” Arthur assured him as Jon started to run across the car park.
“Sansa!” Jon cried as the brood of Stark’s started filtering through the airport, Sansa’s red hair like a beacon, drawing his attention. “Sansa, wait!”
He was too far away he thought as they disappeared through the revolving doors. He could hear Arthur shouting after him as he raced across the road, hopping onto the pavement and almost tripped over himself in his haste to push the door around.
Chest heaving, he scanned the area for a sign to the security area, hoping to catch Sansa before she went through. Finally spotting it, he took off again, swinging around onto the escalator and taking the steps two at a time, with hurried apologies to whispered to the people he knocked into.
Sansa’s red hair was nowhere in sight as he glanced at the passing cafes and shops. He feared he was too late as he spotted the tables and bins that signalled the security area up ahead. And then he caught sight of her, her face upturned as she laughed up at her mother as she spoke.
“Sansa!” he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth for good measure.
Her head turned, brows furrowing in confusion as she looked around her, and then she froze as she spotted him. He could literally see her jaw dropping slightly. Casting a quick look at her family, she whispered something to her mother and then quickly stepped towards him.
“Jon, what are you doing here?”
“I came because…wait, you know my name?” he blurted, blinking in shock.
“Of course, I do,” she replied, and he stared dumbly as he caught her cheeks reddening.
“Sansa, I…I love you.”
Sansa tried to hide her smile as she tucked a hair behind her hair. “You do?”
“I taught myself piano so I could impress you,” he blundered on, feeling his whole face heat as he finally took in the sight of her family watching from behind her.
“Silly,” Sansa sighed, rolling her eyes. Jon opened his mouth to come up with some defence, before he caught her smile. “You’d already gotten my interest.”
And then she stepped up to him and pressed her lips to his tenderly. Jon felt his eyes close as he tasted the strawberry lip balm, and even though he was sure he was as red as a tomato, his lips curled up into a smile beneath her own.
Her giggle made him part with an overwhelmed laugh of his own and he ran a hand through his hair.
“Well, um…thanks,” he stated dumbly.
“Oh Ned,” Sansa’s mother cooed, shooting her husband a loving smile that conveyed all their heartfelt memories.
“You have my email right?” Sansa asked suddenly and Jon, still dumbstruck from her kiss nodded slowly. “Write to me, okay.”
She moved backwards, towards her family and blew him a kiss.
“I’ll see you in the New Year Jon.”
He was already counting down the days.