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Chapter Text

Sansa didn’t realize how much she had missed her home and her family until the sight of Stark Manor came into view.

A year, she realized since the last time she returned, No Rickon’s birthday in March, she corrected herself. So much has changed in those eight months, turning her eyes away from the sprawling grounds and to Domeric, who was driving them up what felt like a mile long driveway. He had been the best part of that change. She’s been grateful every day since their paths crossed. Now she was bringing him to meet her family.

“Are you nervous?” Lost in all her happy reminiscing was the fact that this was Domeric’s first time meeting her family.

“Of course,” He was always honest with her. “Your family is practically royalty in these parts.”

She rolled her eyes at his dramatics, “They’re not the king and queen, Dom.”

It was true her family was one of the oldest and most influential families in the north. Power and prestige that Sansa really didn’t understand until she was older. However, to them, they were always just family and not the history that the region revered them as.

He frowned. “I know that,” The curving of his lips belaying his blunt response. “I’m certain the king and queen would bow to them.” He parked the car, and then took the keys out of the ignition but made no effort of unbuckling his seatbelt or opening the door.

“Everything is going to be fine, Dom,” She gripped his hand which remained on the steering wheel. “They’re going to love you.” She was pleased when that seemed to cheer him up. “Besides you can always seek shelter from my siblings’ significant others, if needed.” She watched his reaction as she continued, “I think Gendry says they have a support group.”

Domeric laughed. “Gendry is Arya’s boyfriend?”

“Right,” Sansa wasn’t surprised he knew. Domeric was observant and always listened. It was one of the reasons why she loved him so much. She was certain it was just his nerves speaking.

“Wait, will Daenerys Targaryen be here?” He asked suddenly.

“You know her?” Sansa found something odd in his tone at her mention. “You have a crush on her?

“No, its her brother.” He had answered so quickly that he hadn’t even heard the second part of her question until after he spoke. “I mean I’ve heard of her brother.” He corrected over Sansa’s giggling, “Rhaegar Targaryen is one of the most famous musicians in the world.” He added as if that fact was as obvious as the sky being blue.

“Dom, not everyone follows classically trained musicians careers as if they’re superstar athletes.”

He looked offended. “They should.” He got out of the car and made his way around to the passenger side to let her out.

She stepped out, noticing his eyes were on her. “What?” Suddenly feeling self-conscious about her appearance. They had come right from the airport. She looked down to see her jeans weren’t stained or wrinkled and her blue sweater looked presentable. “What is it?” She ran a hand through her hair in case it had gotten frizzy from the car ride.

“You’re beautiful,” he smiled, “And I’m lucky.”

“Oh, Dom,” She kissed him. “I’m the lucky one,” She corrected when they broke apart. She felt his arms around her. This was what she was most thankful for, she thought, Them, together. She said as much to him.

His dark eyes shined with affection. “You’re wasting your talents at that law firm.”

“Don’t let Jaime or Elia hear you say that,” she mocked warned him.

He bowed his head in deference to her warning, which only made her smile grow. “Shall we?” He gestured to her family’s home which loomed over them.

“You’re going to be fine,” She could sense his nervousness just beneath his calm demeanor. “They’re going to love you.”

“I hope so.” He moved to the trunk where he opened it and started pulling out their bags.

“Don’t worry,” She tried a different approach, “If they don’t, we have plenty of booze.”

“Comforting,” Domeric said dryly, while looking thankful at her. He then turned his attention towards her family’s house. “It’s bigger than I imagined.”

“You imagined my house?”

He took her teasing in stride. “Of course, it was after our first few dates when I knew we had something special.” He revealed with the utmost confidence. “This was just one of the moments among many happy others of our future together.”

That earned him another kiss.

“At this rate, we won’t make it to the front door until Christmas.”

“Are you complaining?” She murmured.

“Never.” Domeric insisted on carrying most of the luggage.

They then set off up the cobble path that connected the driveway to the front door.

Looking over at her boyfriend, Sansa noticed he remained wary. “You act as if they’re going to bite.” Just as they walked by a pair of snarling direwolves carved from stone. They stood on their hind legs, silent sentinels, who guarded the path.

Domeric gave her a certain look at her timing.

Then the barking happened. Sansa looked up just in time to see two large dogs darting towards them from the front door. She recognized them at once-Ghost and Grey Wind. Domeric to his credit, didn’t looked startled at the sight of the two intimidating dogs that charged towards them. He stood his ground, and his bravery was rewarded when Grey Wind and Ghost came to a halt before him, sniffing the air, before their approach became more friendly.

“I missed you two!” Sansa called Grey Wind over, who obeyed at once, greeting her with a sniff before licking her outstretched hand. She put aside her suspicions of their accidental and sudden appearance. She recognized the schemes of her older brothers.

She keenly felt the absence of her dog Lady. She’s fine with Willas, she reminded herself, as she petted Grey Wind’s head. Lady didn’t like to travel by a plane, so Sansa had to make the tough decision of leaving her behind. I’ll bring her next time, knowing how much happy her dog would be at seeing her littermates again.

“Ghost! Grey Wind!” Two voices could be heard, and the sight of her brothers came into view running towards them. “Come to me.” Reluctantly Ghost left Domeric, who had been petting him. Grey Wind let out a disappointing whine but heeded his master’s call, returning to their sides.

They then spotted her, “Sansa!”

Sansa sprinted towards them, and practically leapt into their arms when they were close enough. Where she was engulfed in a large hug with her brothers. “I missed you,” she held them tight.

“We missed you too,” That was Robb.

“Of course we did,” Jon added.

Sadly, their embrace had to end, giving Sansa a good look at her oldest brothers. They were twins with Robb taking after their mother with auburn hair and bright blue eyes, and Jon took after their father, dark hair and grey eyes. You could see the resemblances between them in how they smiled, the curling of their hair, their noses. She remembered how the girls use to fawn over the pair of them when she was growing up including several of her friends.

“Is this him?” Robb looked over her shoulder.

“No, she found someone else at the airport,” Jon cut in dryly, “and decided to bring him.”

Sansa laughed, how she had missed them. She knew she wasn’t supposed to have favorites when it came to siblings, but she always had a stronger bond with Jon and Robb then the others. Maybe it was their closeness in age and how tight-knit they were as kids, whatever the reason they were hers.

When the mirth and wistfulness subsided, she was quick to get their attention. “Be nice,” she warned them.

Robb looked insulted. “We’re always nice.” He gestured between him and Jon, with the latter nodding in agreement.

“I mean it,” she whispered, sending them one more warning look before turning to Domeric, where she was quick to smile at him. He had been patiently waiting for them off to the side with her brothers’ dogs. He was petting Grey Wind, with Ghost watching, tail swishing.

She looked over to see her brothers were caught by surprise by their dogs reaction to her boyfriend. It was clear to Sansa that this had been some sort of test by them to see how he would handle them, and how they’d react. She couldn’t help but smile upon knowing that he passed with flying colors.

“Already better than Joffrey,” Robb muttered, observing how his dog took to Domeric.

“True,” Jon agreed, “but that’s a low bar.”

“Behave,” Sansa whispered. She was unable to argue against their point. She had made some poor choices in the past, and was thankful to have brothers like Robb and Jon there for her to help her through them. However, she was confident that they’d approve of Domeric. He was the one, she knew it, and they’d see it too this weekend.

“Domeric, these are my brothers.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Domeric joined them, smiling, shaking Robb’s hand first and then Jon’s.

“Likewise,” Jon was always the more polite of the two. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Robb only inclined his head, not hiding his suspicion in how he watched Domeric.

If Domeric noticed, he didn’t address it. He was still smiling, but she could tell he was flustered, she couldn’t blame him. Her brothers took their duties seriously, and never made it easy when it came to the men in their sisters’ lives.

“We’re looking forward to getting to know you,” Robb added.

“Robb,” Sansa kept her tone light, but made certain her brother caught her glare.

“What?” He shrugged away her warning. “He’s our guest, and we’re just trying to be friendly hosts.”

Jon hid his smile by covering his mouth, a fake cough followed.

“Where are your betterhalves?”

“In the kitchen helping mom,” Jon kept his attention on Domeric.

“Perfect,” Out of everyone, Sansa had talked to about Domeric, she had told them the most. She was counting on their support in helping him make it through this weekend.

“We can show Domeric where you’ll be staying,” Robb volunteered kindly, but Sansa caught a glint in his eyes.

“That would be great,” Domeric was oblivious to any ulterior motives by her brothers. “You go see the others,” he encouraged her, “And I’ll take the stuff.”

“I can help,” Sansa wasn’t sure she wanted her brothers to be alone with Domeric especially so soon after arriving.

“No, it’s fine,” Domeric assured her, ignorant of the tension between Sansa and her older brothers.

“Okay,” she hid her reluctance with a smile, and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be expecting you shortly,” she gave her brothers a pointed look at that.

It bounced right off of Robb, who took Sansa’s suitcase from her. Jon at least had the decency to nod to signal he heard, before taking one of the bags Domeric had been carrying.

“One thing’s the same, sister,” Robb picked up one of her bags. “You still pack like there’s five of you.”

She ignored her brother’s teasing and watched them set off with Domeric. He looked over his shoulder towards her and she smiled, which he returned before turning back to answer something Jon asked him.

All things considered, she thought, It’s off to a better start than I thought.

Chapter Text

Home.

Sansa relished the word and her return to it. It had been too long, and her first stop now that she was back was to the living room. She smiled at the familiarity of it. It was spacious, muted in colors, but it was an area that radiates warmth. So many happy memories rushed to her of all the movie nights and holidays, sleep overs, and game nights with her friends and families.

Sansa’s eyes went past the large stone fireplace where a handful of shelves were put on the wall, with each shelf dedicated to a Stark child. It was a shrine to each of them, containing photos from highschool and or college graduations, sport trophies, academic medals, ribbons, certificates, couple photos, et cetera.

Her shelf over the years had contained photos of different boyfriends. Joffrey, Harold, she grimaced at the reminder of the poor taste she once had. It was all different now, she was quick to remind herself. She found the right man, and was confident in saying that her shelf would only include his picture moving forward.

She looked at the photo in question, noticing it was the one she sent to her family over the summer. It was a picture of her and Domeric. They were at the barbeque that Jaime and Elia hosted every year. She was wearing jeans and a shirt, Domeric khakis and a polo. They were standing together and laughing at a story Elia had told of her husband, Jaime. The married couple were just out of the shot. She smiled at how happy she was with him. At the time, they had been dating less than two months.

I was more happier here, then I ever was in my years with either Joffrey or Harold.

“That’s my favorite of yours.”

Sansa spun around to see her mother smiling at her. She reached her in a few steps and hugged her tight. Her mother returned the embrace with equal fervor. When it ended, her mother remained holding her hands and looked her over, eyes shining with unshed tears, a proud hue beneath her gaze.

“We’ve been waiting for you.” She told Sansa, “and missed you so much.”

Sansa was now the only one of the Starks who lived outside of the north. She and Domeric lived in King’s Landing where their careers were. Father had offered her a post at their company on more than one occasion. When he stopped, Robb and then Jon would make the same offer. She had always declined. She loved the law firm she was working at and her bosses-Jaime and Elia, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the pull to come home.

However, it wasn’t just her life she had to think about now. She was in a committed relationship with Domeric. She didn’t feel right to force him to uproot himself and his career because she was homesick.

It would be unfair for him and selfish of her.

“There is still no wedding or grandchildren pictures,” Her mother noted lightly.

“Jon and Dany are engaged.”

“A step in the right direction,” Mother smiled. “So where is he?” she asked, “The young man who’s stolen your heart.”

“Mom,” Sansa denied the warmth she felt rising to her face.

“You can’t fool me, dear,” Mother squeezed her hand. “You look like a woman in love.”

“I am,” She said it without hesitation.

“Good,” There was a doting glint in her eyes. 

“Where’s Father?”

“At work,” she sighed. “He’s semi-retired, and I should be happy he only goes in a few days, but the day before Thanksgiving?” She clicked her tongue in disapproval.

Sansa was disappointed that Father wasn’t there to greet her, but she knew she wouldn’t have to wait long to see him. He was never one to put work over family. She was anxious to have him meet Domeric. She believed Father would like him, but until that meeting came about, it allowed said worry to try root itself in her stomach. It was a rumbling feeling that she tried her best to ignore or fight back with her confidence that her family especially Father and Robb and Jon would get to know and approve of Domeric.

Speaking of which, she thought, “Did you talk to Robb and Jon?”

“Of course, I did,” her mother gave her a look like she was silly to have asked. “Why?” But then a flicker of realization came across her face, “Ah, so that’s who your beau is with.”

“Yes,” Sansa loved her brothers, but they were very protective of her and were not impartial when it came to any boy in her life. She was nervous for Domeric’s sake.

They’d always have her love and gratefulness for being her knights in shining armor whenever she needed them. After the Joffrey fiasco, she had been surprised when Robb and Jon had arrived the next day after she made a teary eyed call the night before. They didn’t leave for a week.

When Harold came later and proved to be just as bad as Joffrey. Jon and Robb appeared at her doorstep less than twenty fours hours after her email. Only this time Margaery and Dany were with them. The two girls, whom she now counted as her closest friends. That time they stayed nearly two weeks.

“If Domeric is everything like the man you’ve described your brothers would see that.”

“He is.”

“Its stunning,” Sansa said after admiring the engagement ring Jon had gotten Dany.

She had seen the pictures, liked, loved, and commented on every one of them. But it didn’t really sink in that Jon was getting married until she saw the lovely ring on his lovelier fiance’s finger.

“Thank you,” Dany’s smile was brighter than the diamond engagement ring. She then enveloped Sansa into another hug, “I’m so glad to see you,” she said for the umpteenth time.

Sansa did not complain, relishing her friend’s embrace. “Me too.” She pulled away to see Dany’s amethyst eyes were shimmering.

After her mother had escorted her to the kitchen into the welcoming arms of Dany and Margaery. She had left to go find the others to let her know of Sansa and Dom’s arrival. Wine glasses were already out for Margaery and Daenerys. The former quickly grabbing one for Sansa and pouring her one from one of Sansa’s favorite vintages. This was after their near minute embrace that had Dany eventually joining in, excited at them all being together again.

The kitchen was spotless and besides some tupperware out, and a family cookbook the counters were bare. Sansa knew her mother had already begun making the meal preps for tomorrow’s dinner, but tonight there was nothing to cook. Her family had the wonderful tradition of the Wednesday before Thanksgiving for them to order carryout. In true Stark fashion, everyone got to pick what they wanted which meant a spread of everything from pizza, burgers, chinese food, seafood, salads, anything you could think of, from more than a handful of restaurants.

The meal only got larger when her siblings brought their significant others for the holidays. Her parents never complained, they smiled and welcomed them to join them. They would then offer them more than two dozen menus and telling them to get whatever they wanted and that it was on them. This was one of Sansa’s favorite family traditions, and she thought that was saying something, since that had so many that she enjoyed. This was one that she was very much looking forward to including Domeric in.

“It’s wonderful to have you with us,” Margaery was sitting at the table in the kitchen. She looked beautiful even in a sweater and sweatpants. Her brown curls were in a messy ponytail. “Finally someone else to look through all these magazines, blogs, vlogs, articles,” She waved her hand, her smirk belaying her tired tone.

Dany harrumphed dramatically before taking a seat beside Margaery. Silver haired and stunning, Daenerys was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that Sansa suspected to be her brother’s. “You weren’t complaining when we had those wine samples the other night. ”

She giggled as Margaery’s face turned sheepish, but a mischievous glint soon came to her brown eyes. “I’m surprised you can remember, Dany after how many-”

Sansa was laughing now, shaking her head at the antics of her two best friends, as she took the seat across from them.

Oh she had missed them, this, everything about what this moment summed up, friends, and laughter, teasing and love. Phone calls and Facetimes were just a pale imitation, and as she sat with them, that sinking feeling of wistfulness settled in her stomach once more. Knowing that this was only for a weekend, and that fleeting realization that after that she’d be thousands of miles away, with only texts and calls, tweets and emails once more.

She took a small sip from her glass, appreciating the soothe and sweet taste. Welcoming the calming effect it had on the nervous energy she could feel swelling in her chest.

“I’ll help with whatever you need,” Sansa volunteered.

Dany flashed her reciprocating smile. “Thank you, Sansa, but you don’t have to-”

“I want to,” Sansa cut her off in a kind tone. “I know I’m only here a few days, but I want to be a part of this.”

“You will be, Sansa,” Dany assured her. “Don’t ever think you won’t be,” she added, “King’s Landing or the Moon, I don’t care where you’ll be, but you will be a part of this day.”

Sansa had been afraid of what she’d miss and feared she wasn’t doing enough to help her friend. Seeing it all on her friend’s timeline and only able to help afar with comments and texts. The worst had been sifting through the pictures of Dany and Jon, Dany and Mother, or Dany and Marg, or even Arya. All of them out and about at different stores and venues as they got ready for the wedding. That longing that panged in Sansa’s chest at wanting to be there for Dany. One of her best friends in the lead up to the biggest day in her and her brother’s life.

“Thank you, Dany,” Sansa hoped the simple words conveyed just how grateful she was to her friend.

Daenerys nodded, smiling back at her, but that smile turned mischievous at her next words. “So where’s Domeric?”

“Yes, this boy that has our little wolf howl-”

“He’s upstairs,” Sansa interrupted Margaery, ignoring her friend’s waggling eyebrows. She was silently hoping her cheeks were not currently matching her hair. “With Robb and Jon,” she finished, mustering a stern look to each of her friends.

“Jon will behave. We went over some things on the way here.” Daenerys said confidently.

Sansa was relieved. “Thank you, Dany,” reaching across the table to squeeze her friend’s hand, who returned the smile, and nodded. She then turned to her other friend who was suspiciously silent.

“Oh,” Margaery frowned, “So they probably threw him out a window.” She shrugged at Sansa’s glare, “That was one of Robb’s more merciful suggestions.”

Sansa found herself smiling despite the nature of her friend’s teasing. “That’s not funny.”

“Who said I was joking?” Margaery then straightened up in her seat, and began speaking in a gruff voice. “We need to protect her. We need to show him we’re a pack.”

Sansa laughed at her friend’s poor impersonation of her brother, Robb. “Please tell me, he wasn’t actually saying these things out loud?” She groaned, but could not find herself surprised by her brothers’ antics.

“Jon was there,” Margaery took a sip of her wine, smirking over the glass. “He helped.”

“He better not have,” Daenerys did not looked pleased at this development.

“Oops,” Margaery said in a not to so innocent tone.

“I think I need to check on him,” Sansa found herself suddenly getting worried for her boyfriend’s wellbeing in the presence of her brothers.

“You don’t have to,” A new voice broke into the conversation, causing all three girls to look up to see Arya standing in the doorway, her arms crossed. “Gendry went to go save him. You should’ve seen how fast he ran when Mother told us that Domeric was with them.” She rolled her eyes, “Gendry’s really desperate. He really wants another ‘man in the trenches’ with him.”

Sansa got up and hugged her sister before she finished speaking. Arya was squeezing her just as tight. “You should know better than to leave him with Robb and Jon.”

“Domeric is different,” Sansa pointed out.

“He’s still a man,” Arya countered, “And you’re still their sister.”

“Fair point."

“Willas, Garlan, and Loras all had their fun with Robb upon their first meeting with him,” Margaery agreed, “But none of them could compare to when my grandmother got her thorns in him.”

“Viserys took Jon on a hike,” Daenerys recalled, “I remember worrying whose body would be left behind or dumped somewhere off the trail,” she shook her head. “It wasn’t until later that I found out they went to a bar instead. And Jon bought my brother drinks all night.” Smiling when she added, “After that Viserys sang his praises, or more properly put, slurred them.”

In the mirthful silence once their laughter subsided, Sansa studied her sister quietly. She was more than a head shorter than Sansa. Arya’s dark hair, was messy and shoulder length, grey eyes and small nose complimenting her face. She was not surprised to see how pretty her sister was despite Arya’s efforts to hide it under sweat, grease, mud, dirt, the list was endless.

She always knew her sister would be beautiful even when they were younger, when she’d be picked on by Jeyne Poole, a neighborhood girl. Arya would try to hide it, but Sansa knew her sister always felt hurt by those insults, and Sansa made sure to comfort her in those rare moments when Arya let her guard down in front of her. The two sisters got their revenge on Jeyne one summer...

“Can I talk to you?” Arya’s voice broke Sansa from her thoughts, but it was her tone that had had attention, “Alone.”

“Of course,” Sansa noticed curious looks from Daenerys and Margaery, but neither pressed to be included. “The balcony?”

Arya smiled in agreement.

“We’ll be back,” Sansa said apologetically.

“Or you could take us with you?” Margaery suggested.

Arya snorted, “Nice try,” she had already left the kitchen.

“It’s fine,” Daenerys assured Sansa, putting a hand on Margaery, “We understand.”

Sansa sent her silver hair friend an appreciative smile before setting out to the balcony. Leaving her to wonder what it was Arya wanted to talk about, and why she insist they be alone.

Chapter Text

Arya was already waiting for Sansa out on the balcony.

It was located on the second floor in between Sansa and Arya’s room. It was a place where the two sisters would go many times to stargaze, talk, or to just sleep. It was their sanctuary where their brothers’ wouldn’t tread. A haven for the Stark sisters and one they’d go to time and time again. She remembered instances where they just went and basked in the silence and the starry lit sky for hours. When just the presence of the other was enough to still any distress either sister was feeling.

Arya was leaning out on the balcony stone rail. She looked over her shoulder at her approach.

“What is this about?”

“It’s about Domeric.” Arya’s voice was solemn. Her face was stony. She looked like Father in that moment.

“What about him?” Sansa hid her frown. She was careful to keep her expression neutral not wanting to reveal anything premature. She had a sinking feeling what it was her sister was referring to, but Sansa would give nothing away.

Arya regarded her silently. She eventually raised an eyebrow as if impressed at her sister’s calmness. “It’s his brother.”

“Half-brother,” Sansa corrected, with silent dread she realized Arya did in fact know.

“So you know?” Arya was watching her closely.

“He told me.” She had been overwhelmed and a bit terrified when he had. They had been dating for only about two months. However, even it being so brief, it was becoming serious. He admitted, he was afraid she’d find out when he thought it should come from him. He hadn’t just been afraid she’d find out on her own, but she’d leave him because of it.

Sansa had put that fear aside immediately, assuring him that would not be the case.

I’m staying with you, she told him.

She would not forget the relief that shone in his eyes. How the tension in his shoulders deflated. He had been so worried that she’d leave him because of something he had no control over. It had been clear to her that what this brother had done had left its own marks on Domeric.

Arya wasn’t impressed. “What did he tell you?”

Sansa felt annoyance flicker in her chest at how her boyfriend was being judged. “Domeric did nothing wrong,” she growled, “He never knew him. Or met him.”

That placated Arya, but not much it looked like. “His brother is a serial killer, Sansa.”

Not just any serial killer, Sansa silently corrected, Domeric’s half brother was the Red Ripper. The most infamous serial killer the north had ever seen. He was responsible for the rape, murder, and mutilation of over a dozen women.

Sansa had read every file, every course document, trial records. She used her connections with her law firm and her family’s own status to dig deeper into the Red Ripper. She watched his interviews and was horrified by them, by him: The way he smiled, or his gleeful tone and hungry eyes when he talked about raping and flaying his victims. It had made her nauseous.

She remembered how when he was sentenced to the multiple counts of murder, and rape among the charges, he took it with a smile, before asking, Was that all you could find? The lead detective on the case suggested there could be upwards to twenty five women total if they followed his pattern and adjusted their timetable.

“How did you find out?”

Despite his concerns of her learning the truth, Sansa wasn’t sure she’d ever make the connection between her boyfriend, Domeric Bolton, the sweet, kind, classically trained musician to the notorious serial killer, the Red Ripper, Ramsay Snow. The latter’s juvenile files were sealed. No father was listed in any of the public records, only the mother’s name was on file. There was little to be found in the records that would suggest any thread that could link the two. She had combed through as much of the archives and databases as she could in the wake of Domeric telling her about it.

“Work,” Was Arya’s vague reply.

Arya had always been mysterious in her job after she joined the force. Sansa suspected that Arya did undercover or off the books investigations. She remembered asking Arya once who it was she actually worked for.

Arya had smirked when she answered-I work for no one.

“Who have you told?” Sansa tried to stem the fear even as she felt its cold grip wrap itself around her heart.

“Father,” Arya answered, “And Jon.”

Sansa was shaking her head. She felt tears sting her eyes. “You’re ruining everything!” She couldn’t stop the words from coming out. The burning anger helped to thaw away the fear. It gave her strength when she felt nothing but despair with what her sister had done.

This was what Sansa had been afraid of. Her family's perception about him was to be polluted before they ever properly met him. They were going to judge him based on the terrible things a stranger did that had happened to share a father with Domeric.

“I’m trying to protect you,” Arya was calm in the face of Sansa’s anger. 

“And you can’t trust me?” Sansa shot back.

Arya crossed her arms. “Shall I name your past boyfriends?”

She recoiled at that barb. Glaring at her sister whose stoicism flickered upon realizing she may have went too far.

“I was concerned,” Arya corrected. “You’re my sister. I was afraid-”

“That I was being stupid?” Sansa lashed out, “Stupid Sansa,” She let out a bitter laugh, reciting their childish insults they use to throw at one another.

“Was I just suppose to ignore what I learned and with your own experiences-”

“Domeric is nothing like them!” She interrupted, she would not let him be dragged into the dregs of her former boyfriends. “He’s different. He’s better.” She despised her sister’s implications that her Domeric was anything like his half brother or her pathetic exes.

“Regardless,” Arya pushed on, “Father needed to know.” She didn’t back down from her choice.

Sansa tried not to panic. She knew this night could potentially be daunting, but this could make it so much worse for her boyfriend to have to overcome. “Why did you do this?” She demanded, “Domeric is a good man, and now,” she struggled to find the words to properly convey what Arya’s meddling had done. “You put this black mark on him! That Jon, and Father will all see and judge, and he’s done nothing to deserve that.”

She felt the drumming of her heart against her ribs. “You’re judging him against sins he didn’t even commit.”

“I won’t apologize for looking out for you,” Arya’s face softened. “You’re my sister and I have to.”

Sansa sighed. Her anger was dissipating. She knew Arya meant well. She knew she shouldn’t have responded the way she did, but she was afraid. She tried to say that, to express it to her sister so that Arya could hopefully understand.

The unexpected touch of her sister broke Sansa from her melancholic musings. She was surprised by the gesture, but welcomed her sister’s embrace.

“You shouldn’t be worried,” Arya murmured. “If everything you’ve told me about him is true than he will be fine. You two will be fine.”

“It is,” She replied confidently. “He is.”

Arya regarded her, “I do trust you,” she leaned back so their eyes could meet. “I’ll look out for him,” she promised, “I’ll make sure Jon and Father won’t scare him away,” she assured her. “I’ll help in whatever way I can, including protecting him if Robb tries to do something stupid.”

Sansa laughed, “Thank you,” She squeezed her sister tight, hoping she could convey how thankful she was for her. “Thank you, Arya.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m happy for you.” Her eyes shone sincerely when they broke away from their embrace. “You do seem different, your texts, your voice, something’s changed about you, and I-I like it.

Sansa wasn’t sure what she could properly say to respond to that, so she hugged Arya again. “Thank you for looking out for me, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t,” Arya cut her off, “I’m sorry, I should’ve let you speak. I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge, but I was worried for you.”

Sansa looked at her younger sister with a touch of incredulousness. She was impressed at the young woman in front of her, who seemed so very different than the one she once knew. “When did you start to act like you were the older sister?”

Arya rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Someone has to watch over all these boys now that you’re gone.”

Sansa laughed, but before she could commend Arya, another voice joined their conversation.

“I was told I’d find you two here.”

Both Starks looked to see their older brother, Jon was watching them with a fond smile. He was leaning on the doorway.

“No boys allowed, Jon,” Arya reminded him, she pointed to a crayon written sign that she and Arya had done when they were girls. It hung proudly below the stone railing so that it would face the door and let their brothers no they weren’t welcomed.

“I know, I know,” Jon held up his hands. “I’m just the messenger.”

“What’s the message?” Arya asked, a hint of suspicion lingering in her tone.

“Dad’s nearly home with the rest of the food,” Jon told them, “And Mother wanted me to remind you, Arya, that its your turn to set the table.”

Arya grumbled. “Fine,” She had the good sense to know it would be futile to fight against Mother’s wishes.

“Gendry's already down there.”

“Good,” Arya looked pleased that she wouldn’t be enduring the menial task alone. She turned back to Sansa, sending her a small smile, “I’ll see you down there.”

Sansa nodded, “You will.” She gave her sister a quick one armed embrace who put up a little resistance for the sake of Jon’s presence. An observation that made Sansa smile, knowing how much her sister tried to project at being prickly and unapproachable.

“Where is Dom?” She waited till Arya was gone before she left the balcony where Jon was waiting for her. Her brother was smart enough to respect his sisters’ wishes and not trespass where he wasn’t welcomed.

“When Gendry was assigned to set the table, Domeric asked what he could do to help.”

That sounded like him, she thought warmly, knowing that was his nature and not some act.

“I like him,” Jon declared.

“You do?” She asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” he then looked around to make sure they were alone, “Even with what I know,” he added in a whisper. He noticed her tensing, so he put his arm around her. “I will not say what I thought when Arya told me, or what I wanted to say or do,” He told her, “which included taking the next flight to King’s Landing,” he chuckled.

Even with the serious subject between them, Sansa found the mirth to laugh along with her brother. “Why didn’t you?” She found herself curious at to what stopped him. Distance had never been a reason before when she needed him or Robb.

Jon didn’t answer right away, mulling it over as if he too was trying to figure it out or put it to words. “I trusted you,” He eventually answered, “When I was seeing red. I went back to my phone, and looked through some of our messages in our texts as well as pictures that you put up, and I saw you with him,” He shrugged. “I don’t know this sounds so stupidly cliche,” he waved his hand, annoyed. “It was just a gut instinct that you were fine and to trust you.” He rubbed his jawline, “Sounds like something out of one of those sappy tv movies you love.”

“We love,” She corrected, arching an eyebrow when he opened his mouth to rebut before stopping himself.

“Fine,” he grumbled, “But that stays between us.” He held up a finger to her in mock warning.

Sansa giggled, “Of course, it does. Who else will I text when-”

“That’s enough,” Jon cut in without any bite. He rolled his eyes when she couldn’t stifle her giggling. He then bumped her with his shoulder.

She protested but he replied with an innocent smile and his own chuckle. He sobered with his next words, “He thanked us.”

“You and Robb?”

“Yeah, for looking out for you with Joffrey and Harold,” Jon’s tone sharpened at the mention of her previous boyfriends. It did not last, going away with his next words, “However, there was a moment where I did think Robb would try to accidentally trip him down the stairs.”

Sansa groaned, putting a hand to her face at their oldest brother’s antics.

Jon only laughed. “He didn’t.” He reminded her, “And just between me and you,” his tone dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “I think even Robb is starting to come around but don’t tell him I said that. He’ll deny it and start complaining about him.”

“Where is our dear brother now?” Sansa was wondering if she needed to speak to him before dinner.

“He’s with Margaery,” Jon seemed to guess Sansa’s own intentions since he added, “She’s reminding him of certain expectations.”

Sansa smiled, silently thankful for her friend’s interference and support. “Where’s Rickon?” She had yet to see their youngest brother.

“He’s sulking in his room. He’s still upset that his girlfriend is away.”

“Pity,” Sansa had been looking forward to meeting this new girl in her brother’s life-Shireen. She already knew that Bran wouldn’t be attending this weekend. He was going on a camping trip with his girlfriend Meera, and her family. “So where’s your better half?”

“Robb?” Jon joked, “I already told you.”

Sansa chuckled, and rolled her eyes. “I’ll make sure to tell your fiancé that, brother.”

Jon’s smile dipped at that idle threat.

“Don’t worry, Jon. I won’t say anything,” she patted him on the shoulder. “Dany’s the best thing to ever happen to you, and I won’t see that ruined because you’re sometimes an idiot.”

“Thanks,” Jon replied dryly, “How kind of you, sister.” The tugging of his lips showing his amusement. “My beloved fiancé, who I’m very much thankful for and worship the ground she walks on,” he added to dramatic effect, “Took Ghost and the other dogs outback so they wouldn’t bother us too badly at dinner.”

Sansa was about to comment about the dogs, but got distracted when up ahead, she could hear voices. They were of her family and Domeric. In the heartbeats that followed, she wondered and worried what was being said but then the laughter happened. She felt some of her unease melt at that wonderful and welcomed sound.

“See, sister,” Jon nudged her, “Nothing to worry about.”

That was when the front door opened, and the voices quieted.

Dad was home.

Chapter Text

Organized chaos, that was the only way to describe a Stark family dinner.

Sansa had forgotten how much she missed the disorder and noise of them until she found herself back in the middle of it. The family sat at a long table which only seemed to grow as they got older as seats were added to adjust first to newer siblings and now to their significant others. What never changed was that her parents always sat at the ends. 

It was going well. She was sitting in the middle, Domeric was to her right. The introduction between her father and her boyfriend had gone smoothly but before much could be said between them, it was time to eat. So the dinner was brought out and everyone took their respective seats, a few spots were empty since Bran, Meera, and Shireen were unable to attend. 

There was hamburgers, salad, pizza, pasta, Chinese, Thai, french fries, eggs, waffles, and others all spread out at the table as everyone got to pick their own meal for the dinner before Thanksgiving. 

She had went with some pasta and salad, but still helped herself to some of Domeric’s fries off his plate, where he also had his hamburger. 

Everything was loud and warm, and she loved all of it. With dinner dispersed, the conversations broke out amongst them. Margaery and Daenerys were trying their best to make sure Domeric didn’t feel left out while also keeping their respective boyfriends civil. 

Gendry had been helpful too. Finally, I’m not alone, he said to Domeric when the dinner was being set up. I feel like a sheep surrounded by wolves. He then had gestured to where Robb and Jon were lurking in the kitchen. Gendry made a face, I’m more scared of Arya than them, but still, he shrugged, wolves, the lot of them. 

That had been when Rickon first appeared out of his room after brooding that his girlfriend, Shireen couldn’t make it. Upon hearing Gendry’s description of them, he howled. 

Introducing himself in ways only her youngest brother could. 

“I punched Gendry, you know,” he bragged, looking at Domeric, “So be careful.” 

“Rickon,” Sansa warned him, who seemed undeterred by her look. Great, he’s turning into Robb, she lamented without real worry. 

“You punched him?” Domeric couldn’t hide his surprise at trying to see a younger Rickon punching someone as tall or as strong as Gendry. 

“Yeah, saw him with Arya and I thought he was-”

“It was none of your business, Rickon,” Arya corrected him, but her tone couldn’t wipe the proud smile off her brother’s lips. 

“Thankfully, he couldn’t reach my face,” Gendry said dryly. 

Pushing away that charming introduction aside, between her youngest brother and her boyfriend. Sansa was very thankful for Gendry since he understood where Domeric was coming from having to face her older brothers’ hostilities for having the courage or the audacity to date one of their sisters. 

Domeric was holding his own. It didn’t hurt that he sat further away from Robb and Jon. Therefore was conversing more with Mother, Rickon, Gendry, and Arya. He looked a bit overwhelmed at first, and she couldn’t blame him, wondering what her family’s meal would look like to an outsider. 

They’d probably think we’re  more akin to a pack of wolves than a family.

Regardless, she was pleased at how it was going. She wasn’t surprised, she had been confident that they’d like him if he was given the chance, and she was happy to see much of her family was doing just that. She was especially observant of her father and older brothers, watching them closely knowing they would be the hardest to win over.

“So where did you two meet?” Gendry’s question seemed to carry over all the overlapping conversations since the table silently settled to give Domeric and Sansa their attention.

“At a fundraiser, Jaime and Elia threw,” Sansa was unable to stop from smiling at the memory. “Dom was one of the musicians hired for the event.”

“So you’re some kind of a street performer?” Robb asked bluntly. He was quick to be reprimanded first by his mother and then by his girlfriend. The latter obviously was more painful given the thump under the table and then Robb’s wince.  

“He’s a classically trained musician,” Sansa answered before Domeric could, hearing the heat in her voice, but she didn’t care. She wouldn’t let Robb belittle him. 

Robb had the sense to look sheepish for his cheap insult.  “I’m sorry,” he sounded to have meant it. 

“It’s fine,” Domeric assured him, clearly not wanting any hard feelings to linger between them. “And I’m alright,” he deflected Sansa’s earlier praise, but sent her an appreciative smile all the same.

“He's wonderful, Sansa gushed proudly. "He's one of the best. He’s a session musician, a specialist,” She turned to face him. “He has been asked to play for countless musicians on their albums. That’s why he lives in King’s Landing. It has some of the best studios including Crown Records.” 

“I’m just a hired gun,” he seemed determined to remain modest, “Studios or musicians bring me in for either albums or tours,” He paused, “Well I don’t really tour anymore.” The fond look he gave her evident enough for that particular change, and she smiled back at him. “So I come in and play for them, background mostly,” he shrugged. 

“He played on Mance Rayder’s last album,” Sansa revealed, a fact she didn’t know when she first met him since Mance’s last album was before they were dating. However, she knew she was right to namedrop him since it got the desired effect for her family. Mance was a northern legend, a great talent, and someone who’s been a staple on the northern music scene for nearly two decades. 

“You played on Steelsong ?” Her father was unable to hide his astonishment. 

“I did,” Domeric confirmed mildly, “Piano mostly, and strings on one or two songs, I think.”

He knows, she wanted to correct, but she knew he did not like to boast, so she stayed quiet and took satisfaction in seeing her family seemed to like him more by the minute. 

“Our first date was a Mance concert,” Father looked across the table towards Mother with a warm smile. 

“He was,” She nodded, “On tour for his Shadow Tower album,” she added fondly. “Our first of many of his concerts.”

“You two aren’t going to start singing, are you?” 

Rickon’s question punctured the wistful mood that their parents were in, and caused both to stare at their youngest son, who gave them a sheepish smile. He then turned his interest to his waffles and eggs. 

It was not just The Mance that Domeric had played with, more recently there had been someone else, and taking pity on her brother, Sansa decided to reveal them, “Marillion too.”

Their reactions did not disappoint, she noted the surprised face of Margaery, who was an unabashed fan much to Robb’s annoyance. 

“No way,” Margaery’s eyes lit up before they turned to Sansa where she narrowed them. “Why didn’t you tell me?” It was more a demand than a question. 

She noticed that Domeric was frowning at the mention of him. “Because, I really didn’t play for Marillion,” Domeric corrected much to Margaery’s disappointment.

“You were supposed to,” Sansa pointed out. “He was hired to because the studio wanted the best.” 

“So why didn’t you?” Margaery looked saddened at the news her chances of meeting Marillion were dashed before they could truly bloom. 

“Its complicated.” He didn’t like to talk about it. 

Sansa had no such problem. “Marillion hit on me,” she told the table bluntly. She was not surprised at how that went over. Margaery looked betrayed that such an amazing piece of gossip was never given to her. Her older brothers’ wore frowns that matched Domeric’s.

They’re finally able to unify on something or someone. 

If she left it there it made Domeric seem more like a controlling caveman, so she knew she had to clarify. “It was at an event at Crown Records, a gala,” it happened only about a week or so ago. One of the reasons why she hadn’t really brought it up to her friends, too busy with work and packing to get ready for this visit home. 

 “And Marillion was there and he was a,” she paused knowing Margaery would be crestfallen, “A creep.” It wasn’t disappointment Sansa saw in her friend’s face, but anger, and she knew Margaery would delete all of Marillion’s songs by the end of the night. He just lost a fan. 

Sansa put her hand on Domeric’s lap. “Who didn’t like the word no.”

“I never liked him,” Robb growled before turning to Margaery with an- I told you so look. 

“What did you do?” Arya’s distaste for the musician was plain to see in her grey eyes. 

“I introduced myself,” Domeric said simply. “And then not long after, Marillion sadly got sick and had to leave, but not before vomiting into a trash can, a punch bowl, and some poor man’s hat.”

Sansa’s laughter joined the others, and she was silently thrilled that Domeric’s actions seemed to further thaw her brothers instinctive coldness towards him. For the first time tonight, Robb actually smiled at him, and Jon gave an approving nod.   

“It was nothing serious, just a little sickness that would clear up in twelve or so hours.” She added just in case, they thought Domeric did some sort of irreparable harm towards the singer. Though judging by their looks especially her brothers, she didn’t think they’d care if Domeric actually poisoned him.

“How?”

“You really think he’d tell you.” Margaery elbowed Robb, “You’d probably try it on him.”

Robb held up his hands in an attempt to say he would not. Several unconvincing looks were sent his way, and he mumbled something before going back to his Chicken Lo Mein which he was sharing with his girlfriend. 

“You must play something for us.” Mother suggested. 

Sansa loved when Domeric played at home, especially for her, but she did not think it fair to try to get him to play something since this was his first visit, meeting everyone. She knew her mother meant well and was trying to be encouraging, but Sansa didn’t want him to do anything he didn’t want to do. Thankfully, she wasn’t alone in that thought. 

“Cat,” Father spoke up, “We don’t have to pressure the poor lad.” 

“I’d love to hear it,” Dany said with a friendly smile. “Do you know my brother?”

“Only really by reputation,” Domeric was unable to hide his respect for her brother, the famous Rhaegar Targaryen.

“He’s in Dragonstone now in semi-retirement, but I’m sure I could arrange a meeting between you two,” she offered. “My brother always loves getting to know new musicians.”

Domeric’s eyes widened. “Y-you don’t have to do that,” he politely declined, “I-I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I offered, and I insist,” Dany replied. “Besides, I was going to call him anyways this weekend.”

“Thank you,” Domeric looked taken aback by it all, “Thank you.”

She smiled at his sincere gratitude before assuring him that it was no hassle whatsoever.

Sansa was impressed that her boyfriend was able to control his composure at the idea of meeting one of his idols. She had heard him go on about Rhaegar and the influence he had in music and so forth. Or how often he liked to either listen to his music or play it. 

He was a true fanboy, she thought with a wry smile. 

“Are you related to Michael Bolton?” Rickon asked suddenly, “Mom loves him.”

“I’m afraid not,” Domeric answered, over the laughter that rippled across the table. 

“So how did you get Sansa’s interest?” Margaery leaned back in her seat. “Play a love ballad for her?” 

Her friends already knew what happened, but Sansa was certain Margaery just wanted a retelling now that she and Domeric were both there and could do it in front of the whole family. Her suspicions were confirmed by the flickering smirk on her friend’s face. 

“Actually, I made the first move,” she answered proudly. 

Arya looked surprised but impressed. Her brothers were frowning, which wasn’t a surprise. They frowned at nearly anytime she or Arya talked about boys and dating. Father remained stoic, and Mother was taken aback but couldn't hide her curiosity. 

“Yes, you did,” Domeric did not sound the least bit bothered by it.

“Stark women,” Gendry whispered across the table. “They are a proud and confident folk.”

“Damn right,” Arya raised her wineglass where Sansa was quick to meet it with her own. The two sisters exchanging smiles and drank, a silent toast to their awesomeness. 

“So what was Sansa’s magical pick up line?” Margaery waggled her eyebrows. 

Sansa glared at her friend. She had already told them both all of the details of that night.  Margaery was unphased by Sansa’s reaction, responding with a wink. Dany was no help either giving her an innocent smile and shrug. 

Domeric didn’t answer right away, aware of the embarrassment she may have for that particular story. His consideration was greatly appreciated. She squeezed his hand, grateful for his thoughtfulness. 

She felt the entire family now looking at her with varying levels of interest. Her face was warm, “I went up to him and said,” she remembered the incident like it was yesterday, “I like your fingers.”

In her defense, she had a few glasses of wine and had been watching him play the harp masterfully for nearly an hour. And that had led her wine induced thoughts to wander in more creative ways they could be used. 

“So Domeric,” Father’s voice rose above the mirth and was easily able to get the to table settle down. She was certain, he didn’t want to linger on that particular topic.  “Sansa tells me you’re from around here.”

Sansa unintentionally stilled. Her conversation with Arya still fresh on her mind. At how her sister had looked up Domeric’s half brother, the Red Ripper, and the crimes he committed throughout the north before he was finally caught. And how Arya had told Jon and Father of her findings. Sansa had already spoken to Jon and to her relief, he did not seem to be holding it against him, but he was still watching him closely.

He’d do that regardless, she dismissed, she hadn’t had a chance to speak to her father about it, and now wondered or feared what he might say. 

“I am,” He answered, “A few hours north of White Harbor.”

“Where?” Robb was ignorant of the truth about Domeric’s half brother. For once her oldest brother was being polite and interested in one of her boyfriends, but it came about at the wrong time and topic. 

“North of Hornwood.”

She could see that he was looking a bit uncomfortable as they were getting dangerously close to his bastard brother, who haunted that area. She was certain any mention of his hometown would bring up the Red Ripper, the most infamous person to have come from there.  And she did not want Domeric’s relation to him to come out at a dinner on his first night, meeting them. Afraid that could permanently sour him in their eyes despite Arya’s reassurances.

“Didn’t you go to school in the Vale?” 

Speaking of Arya, Sansa could only send a grateful smile towards her as her sister deftly turned the subject towards safer grounds. 

“Which one?” Her father asked interested. He did not seem bothered at the change of topic despite what he knew of the matter between Domeric and his brother. 

“The Redfort Academy, sir.”

Father looked impressed. “That’s one of the best in the area.”

Domeric only nodded, “I was very fortunate, sir.” 

“I went to the Eyrie,” Father revealed.

“That’s the oldest school,” Domeric commented, “And considered one of the best.”

“I’m not sure of that anymore,” Father deflected. “I’ve read that the Redfort has increased by leaps and bounds while the Eyrie has sadly stagnated in recent years.”

“Is that why there always calling the house?” Rickon complained, “And sending letters,” he added, “It’s like every week they’re asking for another donation.”

Father smiled, “That may be why Rickon.”

“So to think, Dad,” Jon spoke up, “If only you had given them more money then the Eyrie would’ve blossomed just as it did in your youth.”

His eyes crinkled in amusement. “Are you saying I’m to blame for the fall of my former school?”

“Not me,” Jon feigned innocence, “They are.”

“Indeed,” Father said dryly. 

The chatter resumed amongst the table, and Sansa smiled, taking it all in. Thankful and pleased at being with her family once again and at how Domeric was getting along with one another. 

I couldn’t have asked for it to go any better. 

Chapter Text

After they had eaten, the family had gathered in the living room where Domeric had accepted Mom’s earlier offer to play the old piano. 

Sansa was on her way to her room to get her phone charger. The fact that she was confident that her boyfriend would be fine alone in her family’s care only made her smile. She knew they’d like him, and she relished being right. 

And it only took one evening, that only made her smile grow. 

When she left the living room, her parents were requesting Mance songs. Her boyfriend took them in stride, playing them while her parents did the singing. When her Dad  wasn’t singing, he was asking Domeric about Mance. 

If I knew Dad would be such a fanboy I would’ve approached this weekend all differently , she thought lightly, but she wasn’t about to complain, seeing as how well it was turning out.

Rickon had been the first to leave, wanting to facetime his girlfriend. Jon and Dany were content to just dance to the music in the dim glow of the fireplace. Margaery was sitting on one of the couches busy on her phone, deleting all her Marillion songs and anything else she had or posted about the singer now that she knew the truth about him. 

Gendry and Arya were fine just cozying up by the fire and enjoying their drinks. Though she had heard Gendry trying to coerce a dance out of his girlfriend. 

“I’m not dancing to Mance,” Arya ignored the look Mom had sent her for that.   

“I take requests,” Domeric chuckled. 

That had gotten a small smile out of Arya, and Sansa was certain her sister was thinking of a request to give him. 

Her phone buzzed, looking down to see it was a video from Margaery. Sansa wasn’t surprised, knowing how much her friend liked to make and post short videos to capture a mood and feelings of any given moment or as Margaery liked to call it- the Zeitgeist!

This one didn’t appear on Sansa’s feed, but as a message.  She clicked on it, aware that her phone battery was at 9% and dropping. 

The recording was focused purely on Domeric, who was playing the piano, and her friend was kind enough to add cartoon hearts and kissing emojis that floated around Sansa’s boyfriend. The video ended when it turned from Domeric to Margaery who was grinning, he’s definitely a keeper- appeared across the screen. Margaery then winked to the camera before finishing the short vid by putting in a winking emoji and smiling emoji to flash across the screen. 

Sansa loved the video. I am lucky. She added a few emojis to the end of her text to emphasize her feelings.   

Margaery instantly liked the text. Three dots appeared next to show she was typing a response. I’m so happy for you! It came with several heart and smiling emojis. 

She was touched by her friend’s enthusiasm and sincerity in her happiness for her.

Sansa remembered Harold and the fallout of that disaster, and how she chided herself for being so blind and dumb when it came to him, especially after her previous time with Joffrey. It had been her brothers, as well as Marg and Dany, who helped her get through that terrible ordeal.

 She had been so miserable, and she began to doubt herself. A terrible thing to accept at not being able to find someone. However, it was so tempting. It was just easier, she thought numbly. After Harold, she wasn’t sure she wanted to try again. 

To simply shield yourself by not putting yourself out there. How could you be hurt if you refused to take that risk? That terrible, but thrilling risk when it came to opening oneself to another person. To trust someone with something as sensitive as your heart. 

It had been her friends’ support that pulled her out of that despair and melancholy. Their unwavering help in ensuring she never thought she was alone, and that they were always there for her which they were. 

Sansa l oved the text. And before any words could come to her in forming a reply, her eyes went to the top right of her phone screen, and  her response would have to wait.  

6% Her phone battery reminding her of the reason why she was on her way to her room. Sansa didn’t even like to get her phone into the red, and here she was so close to it dying. She quickened her steps and made a beeline straight to her room. 

She rummaged through her bag and found it quickly enough. Sansa plugged it into the nearest outlet, satisfied when it buzzed to signal that it was charging. She decided she could wait here a few minutes to let it charge before she should return downstairs to check on her family and boyfriend. 

Sansa hadn’t even gotten out of her seat before her phone vibrated, alerting her to another text. She thought it was a follow up to Margaery, but was surprised when she looked to see it wasn’t from her friend, but one of her bosses.

Jaime had just posted an image of his Wednesday night dinner with Elia. Or Sansa thought it was a dinner. It was hard to tell since it looked like some blackened husk, that maybe could’ve been a meatloaf or ham. She really didn’t know. 

The caption that followed: I know what I’m thankful for this year: 

Sansa instantly liked and then laughed at the caption. She knew Jaime handled the cooking between the married couple. He would joke he went to culinary school to annoy his father, since he didn’t want his son in such an industry. Something about wearing a white apron and floppy hat and how a Lannister doesn’t work for the people. She could imagine the grin Jaime gave and the casual hand wave when he told the story. It was one of his favorites at parties. 

However, it looked like he had decided to let Elia try her hand at it again and the results were predictable but still disastrous. 

Unable to stop herself from typing a quick response: I thought you said you wouldn’t let Elia cook this year. 

Jaime’s response was swift, liking her comment: She’s very persuasive, a winking emoji followed. 

Traitors, Elia responded to them both. 

I said I was thankful for it, Jaime followed it with a haloed emoji to try to show his innocence. It was very well cooked. 

Seeing the comments that followed between the married couple made her realize how wonderful they were and how lucky she was to work for them. It’s never boring. 

Jaime had explained their success simply as: It’s Lannister money with Martell integrity. 

Despite all of it, them, and how much she loved that job, the draw for home was only getting stronger. And being here with them was only making it grow. She sighed and put her phone down. It was charging quickly, and she thought another minute or so and she’d go back downstairs. Hearing the piano keys were still playing was a comforting sound since it alerted her that Domeric seemed to be doing well. 

“Sansa?”

She looked up to see Robb was leaning in the doorway. “Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

“You haven’t hurt Domeric, have you?”

“No.”

“Then you may.”

He smiled, before sitting on the arm of her chair, but careful not to squash her phone. “He’s not bad.” 

“That’s high praise coming from you.” 

“I was an idiot, earlier.” 

“Only earlier?” She couldn’t help but tease.

He chuckled. “You know what I mean.” His tone sobered, “I’ll apologize when I get a chance. Though, it might be awhile, I think Mom and Dad want him to play through the entire Mance catalogue.”

Sansa laughed, before it turned into a groan. “I should go rescue him then.” She looked at her phone to see it was already over 20% and no longer in the red. She left her phone to charge, but got up to get her portable charger. 

“It’s good to see you like this.”

“Like what?” She looked over her shoulder.

He looked at her like it was obvious. “Happy.” 

“I am happy,” She returned his smile, before turning back to rummage through her bag.

“Good, you deserve to be.” He had gotten up from where he was perched. “So I guess I can’t entice you to work for the company?”

“I can’t.” It was hard to say, but she couldn’t be selfish. “It wouldn’t be fair to Domeric.” 

“He’s talented,” Robb pointed out, which Sansa thought might’ve been the first time her brother had ever complimented one of her boyfriends. “He could play in the north.”

She appreciated her brother’s words and his desire for her to come home, but she couldn’t ignore the flaws of his plan. “The north isn’t a desirable music scene. Even Mance records his albums in King’s Landing after that fallout with Night Watch Records.” 

 And if Mance the North’s most iconic musician didn’t record north, she thought that was a damning point for the industry up here. The Night Watch, the only notable record company up here has continued to decline since Mance left, and it was but a shell of its former glory. 

“I understand,” Robb nodded, “But I had to ask,” he smiled and shrugged. “Mom would be upset if I didn’t.”

Sansa knew he was right about that. “Thanks and you asked me before Jon.”

That made Robb’s smile grew.   “It’s still not enough to push Jon off the top as Mom’s favorite.”

“No, it isn’t,” she laughed. All the siblings knew that Mom liked Jon the most.  “Though if you and Margaery got engaged, it would help your cause.”

An interesting look passed over Robb’s face before her brother dipped his head. He put his hands in his pockets, and gave her a shrug. 

Sansa wanted to press Robb on that suspicious reaction, sensing there was something there. But before she could, Margaery arrived, standing in the doorway. She looked between them before settling on her boyfriend. “Did you ask her?”

He chuckled, “I did.”

Margaery turned to Sansa and pouted, “Is it a no?”

“It’s a no,” Sansa confirmed with a soft frown. 

Margaery’s reaction melted away when she came up alongside Sansa. “That’s okay,” She hugged her, “It’s just great to have you now with us.”

Sansa returned the embrace. “Thank you.” 

“Just means we have to enjoy you while we can,” Margaery led her towards the door. “As well as your boyfriend.” 

“A word, Sansa?” Father was waiting to intercept her when she followed Robb and Margaery down the stairs. 

“Of course, Dad.” 

He then turned to Robb and Margaery. Their pace having suspiciously slowed, “Is there something you need, Robb?”

Robb looked sheepish at being caught, “No, there isn’t.” 

Margaery just laughed it off, “Come on,” she took one of his hands. “You owe me a dance.”

Robb didn’t protest being led away. “Only one?” 

Father watched them go with a smile. “You just missed your sister dancing,” he turned back to face her. “She requested some song I never heard of,” he shrugged, eyes shining in amusement. “But Domeric knew it and played it much to her satisfaction.”

“Oh really?” She’d have to ask her sister or Domeric what that song was. 

Father only nodded, before putting a hand on her shoulder and leading them a bit away from where the family had gathered so that their conversation would not be overheard.

  A difficult task, she thought, knowing how curious and meddling her siblings could be about one another. Eavesdropping was a sport she and her siblings perfected and practiced routinely when they were children, and becoming adults had not slowed or stopped any of them from continuing it. 

“He’s a good man.” Dad was never one to waste time or words. 

Sansa beamed, pleased at the praise from her father. She was in such a good mood upon hearing it, she couldn’t help but tease him. “Is that because he played with Mance?”

“That was a surprise,” he admitted, but the mirthfulness did not linger. “I know about the other. ” 

“Arya told me she told you,” Sansa thought it was a good sign that her father didn’t refer to him as Domeric’s brother in any way. Still, that did little comfort at seeing her dad’s  look so serious and stern. 

“So you know?” 

“I do,” She then explained what she had already said to Arya about Domeric telling her. She was confident that had earned her boyfriend more points from her father, who looked impressed that he did not try to hide it.  

“I’m glad he told you.” Father scratched the greying hairs on his chin. “I was worried about you,” he saw that she was about to protest, but held up a hand to let him finish. “It’s a dad’s duty to have some worry for his children even when their adults, or sometimes especially because they’re adults.” He smiled, “And you’re far away  in King’s Landing,” he pointed out, “But, Jon told me you were fine.”

“Really?” Her brother had left that part out when he talked to her before dinner.

“He did,” Father confirmed, “And he was right to trust you.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “And seeing you here with Domeric, I know I do not need to be as worried for you anymore.” 

“Thank you, Dad.” 

He pulled her into a hug. “I am glad to see how happy he makes you. And how happy you two are together.”

“I am,” She replied, “and we are.”

“Good,” he kissed the top of her head. “That’s all a Father can ask for.” He leaned back to face her, “Mothers on the other hand, that’s a different matter.”

Sansa laughed. She was all too aware of what other things Mom wanted which included weddings and grandchildren.

He then gestured to where the rest of the family was gathered, “I have more Mance requests to make.”

“Dad,” Sansa groaned.

He didn't seem to have heard her, or more likely decided to ignore her given the smile that came to his lips. When they reached the living room, they discovered that it was Mom and not Domeric on the piano. She looked up from where she was sitting with a smile. The song was unfamiliar to her, but the melody was soothing and catchy. She did not seem alone in that thought since Jon and Dany were still dancing as were Robb and Margaery. Arya and Gendry were back on the couch, but Arya’s slight movement betrayed her interest in the song. 

“Mister Stark,” Domeric stepped forward, “I was wondering if I could have this dance with Sansa?”

“Certainly,” Dad said without complaint. Smiling at the two of them before he made his way to sit beside Mom on the piano bench.

“So,” Domeric put his hands to her waist while her arms snaked around his neck. “How do you think I’m doing?”

She was amused at how oblvious he seemed to be. “You are doing wonderful.” She leaned in and pressed a brief kiss to his lips. “You are wonderful.”

“And lucky,” he added with a smile.

Sansa looked around the room at her family and friends and here she was with the man she loved, everyone was together and happy. We’re lucky.

Chapter Text

She resisted the urge to check her phone again.

They’re fine, she told herself, but something about a bar, her brothers, and her boyfriend did little to quell her nerves. Despite how well the weekend had been going between him and her family. 

And it’s all but over, a sad reminder that their trip was near its end. She tried to bury it by thumbing through one of the many wedding magazines that Dany and Margaery had presented to her this afternoon. She, along with Arya were in the living room helping give ideas and plans for the wedding between her brother and Dany. 

Sansa sat at one end of one of the sofas, her feet tucked under her, going through the latest magazine she could get her hands on. While looking for helpful suggestions for her friend, she couldn’t help but make silent notes on certain things she came across that she rather liked for another possible future wedding. 

That thought excited her. Her smile hidden behind the pages of the magazine. She and Domeric had talked about their future together and they both were adamant that it involved one another. Her idle imagination suddenly stirring into a wondrous and fantastic potential proposal and wedding with him. The images that flickered before her only made her dizzy with excitement and for her smile to deepen. 

“How about a cage fight?” Margaery drawled. Her expression was hidden behind the ipad, she was using to look up various forms of entertainment.

“Cage fight?” Dany was incredulous, sitting beside her. 

Arya was lounging on the floor with her elbows propping her up. A magazine was out in front of her. For the first time since they started she looked interested. “That’d be different.” 

“Wouldn’t?” Margaery happily agreed. Even with her mouth out of view, Sansa knew her friend to be smirking. Her eyes gave her way, sparkling mischievously. 

“It’d be the most talked about wedding,” She continued, “And look at these cages and fighters .” Her eyebrows waggled at the latter. 

“Do you want Robb to fight one of them?” Sansa knew her future sister-in-law was only teasing about them. She was fiercely loyal to Robb, and it was only a matter of time before they followed Jon and Dany into an engagement and then wedding. 

Perhaps, that time is nearing, Sansa couldn’t forget her brother’s interesting behavior from the other night when the subject had been brought up.

“Now there’s a thought,” Margaery looked delighted. 

“All the best Dothraki weddings have cage fighting,” Arya who showed little interest in the wedding was now injected with enthusiasm at the idea of it featuring a cage fight. “It’s an Essos staple.”

“This isn’t Essos,” Dany pointed out bluntly, “And I’m not marrying a Dothraki.” She was happy to add. The sparkle in her eyes betraying her thoughts had drifted towards her beloved husband to be. 

“So,” Margaery cut in, “That’s a maybe on the cage fight?” She turned to Arya for support, who was nodding her head.

“That’s a no,” Dany corrected with a wry smile. 

Margaery pouted at the rejection and let out a feigned sigh. She made a big show of exiting out of the cage fighting venue’s website. 

The whole silliness of the topic sent the friends into a fit of lighthearted laughter. 

Sansa was the first to stop laughing. The mirth subsided until her smile felt more forced. A melancholy pang bloomed in her chest at the realization she would be absent from the many more meetings to come in planning and helping Dany for her wedding. 

Dany had all the grace and friendliness to assure Sansa that it wasn’t a problem or an issue. She was unwavering in her understanding of her future sister-in-law’s situation living so far away. 

You’re here now, Dany had taken her hands in hers. Company I’ll treasure, so don’t worry about tomorrow. 

It was not the first time that Sansa came to the conclusion of just how lucky Jon was in being able to soon call Dany his wife. 

She went back to her own magazine, earmarking the page she had been on, before moving ahead. Sansa glanced down to see Arya still had her face buried in her own sports magazine, clearly trying to display her attitude on the subject of weddings and her thoughts on them. A display that had been incredibly weakened when Sansa noticed one of the wedding magazines that had been on the floor was now suspiciously absent. 

It didn’t take all the episodes of Sherlock that she had binged to deduce her sister was hiding the missing magazine behind her own. It was even easier for Sansa to decide not to mention it or tease her sister about at the present time. 

That doesn't mean I won’t mention it, she corrected, not seeing the problem if she chose a more discreet time to broach it. Afterall, how much restraint was she supposed to show at the possibility that her sister was seriously considering marriage? 

“How many courses should it have?” Margaery’s question broke the lull that had fallen on the friends as they were distracted in their own thoughts and pages. “This one caterer brags about an elaborate seventy-seven courses!” 

“Seventy-seven?” Arya mouthed in disbelief to Sansa who was just as baffled at the idea of such a meal. 

“The reception would last the entire weekend,” Sansa guessed. 

Dany looked up from her tablet. Her silvery hair slipping out of her braid and falling lazily around her face. “That seems a tad excessive, Margaery.” She seemed to sense her friend’s suggestion was another light-hearted joke instead of a serious consideration. “Imagine how many orphanages and shelters that would benefit from such an amount of food.” 

“Indeed,” Margaery shared her friend’s fervorous support in community outreach. 

The two had donated plenty of their time and money to various charities throughout the north once it was clear that this was where the two friends would be putting down roots with their respective husbands to be. 

Dany and Jon were already asking for donations to be made in lieu of wedding gifts. Their wedding website had a list of a number of charities to make it as simple as possible for their guests.

“Jon and I already have enough cooking pots and blenders,” Dany had said, when she told them her and Jon’s plans. “There’s plenty of others not as fortunate as us. Let our day of happiness spread to others.”

Margaery and Robb had been the first to give a donation. The former to an orphanage in White Harbor while the latter had donated to the animal shelter just outside of town. 

She and Domeric had already given their gift too. He had chosen a battered women's shelter just outside of Hornwood. Sansa understood her boyfriend’s history with the place. He had told her about how his mother had stayed there for a time. So it was an easy choice for her to make in electing to match his contribution to the shelter. 

Her phone’s buzzing brought her back to the present. She turned to where it had been resting on the armrest of the sofa. It was from Jon. 

She felt some of that anxiety returning when she realized her brother had sent a video. Her now growing nervousness only welled further when she heard the other phones in the room going off. She didn’t need to see them to suspect they were all being sent the same message. 

Sansa hadn’t been quick enough to open her message as her friend, Margaery played it without hesitation. The living room which had been quiet was now greeted with the sounds of a bar and all the noise that seemed to be caught and amplified when put to video. 

“Hello!” Sansa didn’t need to see the video to recognize the slurring voice of her brother, Robb. She had drinken with her brothers enough times to be able to understand their incoherent babbling after they’ve had their share of alcohol. 

By now Sansa and  Arya had moved to the sofa that Dany and Margaery had been sharing to watch the video that Jon had sent them.  

Robb was front and center, smiling, without a care in the world. His arms slung over Gendry and Domeric, who to Sansa’s relief, didn’t look harassed or hurt just tipsy. 

“These guys!” Robb slurred, his hands tapping the respective chests of Gendry and Domeric. “They’re alright,” Robb proclaimed with all the seriousness that someone who was intoxicated could muster. “What do ya think, Jon?”

Jon was clearly filming this. It was not just his absence that was telling, but the repeated presence of his finger which would come into view or block the camera entirely.  

“They’re good.” Jon confirmed loudly.

“Did ya hear that?” Robb asked them, “you’re good.” He moved to get his half filled glass. “Our new brothers!” He toasted. 

Sansa found it endearing even given their current state. Pleased to see her boyfriend getting along with her brothers and Gendry even if alcohol was involved. 

The view was then completely blocked by Jon’s finger. The voices of the four of them carried on as did the clangs of their glasses as they continued to talk with Jon still filming, oblivious to the fact that his finger was obstructing the camera. The background noise of the bar made it difficult to discern what it was they were saying to each other. 

“Your finger is on the lens,” Gendry pointed out with a laugh.

“No, it isn’t,” Jon quickly removed said finger, pretending he had done nothing wrong. He had inherited their father’s technological savviness. On back to back Christmases, Father had accidentally blown up their microwaves. There were other stories and victims that could be told and claimed featuring her father and Jon. 

“Hey, Margaery,” Robb was looking directly into the camera. “They were playing your song,” he told her, “but its actually our song.” He declared proudly, he then frowned, thinking his words over as if it were some unsolvable conundrum. 

Gendry was still beside him, nodding along as if Robb’s words were as brilliant as Aristotle. Domeric was swaying in place, Robb’s grip seemed to be the only thing keeping him upright. His eyes were red and glassy, flickering around the room, clearly fascinated in what he was or was not seeing. 

“Aren’t you glad Jon’s not doing the photos for your wedding?” Margaery poked Dany.

“I am.” She answered after a brief laugh.  “It’s bad enough half our photos together have his finger in the shot.” She held up her index finger and bent it to show them an example. “Always in the top corner or center,” Her tone easily conveyed that she found Jon’s photographic tendencies more adorable than annoying. 

“The worst part is they’re probably proud of this,” Arya rolled her eyes, unsurprised by her brothers and boyfriend’s behavior. Her words earned a ripple of agreement.

The video went black again, and Sansa thought Jon had blocked it once more, but with the cut in sound, it seemed he accidentally turned it off this time. She wouldn’t be surprised if it turned back on accidentally at a later point, remembering the countless other pictures or videos Jon would unknowingly send to them. 

At least they’re bonding.

“Where’s Dom Juan?” 

Sansa looked over her shoulder to see her youngest brother leaning on the doorframe, smiling. She wanted to roll her eyes at that terrible nickname Rickon gave her boyfriend, but to Domeric’s credit, he replied back by calling her brother Rickon Suave , and now it was some little joke between them.

“He had to take a call,” She turned back to her suitcase that was nearly filled. She was finishing up her packing for their flight tomorrow that would take them back to King’s Landing. Willas had sent some pictures of Lady earlier which had helped dispel some of Sansa’s sadness at their trip being over. She missed her dog dearly and had already decided Lady would be coming with them for their next trip. 

The only question remained was when would that be?

Rickon had invited himself into her room and had plopped himself down in her chair in the corner. His attention was on his phone. 

“This sucks.”

It wasn’t eloquent but it was accurate.

She was sure her brother’s comment had nothing to do with her pending departure. Sansa found herself not minding because she could use a distraction. So she closed her suitcase and moved to sit on the side of her bed facing her brother, keeping her back to her suitcase. 

“What is it?” Sansa knew her brother was still upset that his girlfriend hadn’t been able to visit. 

“This gift I wanted to give Shireen,” he gestured with his phone, “It’s now unavailable.” He grumbled. He then put his phone down and sighed. “I need to get her something for our anniversary.” Rickon saw her smiling, “Don’t smile,” He said without any heat.

“I would never smile at any potential happiness coming to my brother,” she mocked, “Or any pride I may or may not feel at seeing my baby brother all grown up and worrying over a woman.”

Rickon rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Ya know what I mean,” he shrugged as if that gesture and his vague words would clear everything up. 

He had always been the rowdiest of her siblings. It led some to believe that he was raised by wolves for most of his life before they found him one day in the woods. It wasn’t until later she found out Arya had started that rumor. 

“I thought Robb was helping you.”

“He was,” Rickon answered, “But then Margaery showed up and made this face,” Rickon’s imitation of Margaery’s seduction fell swiftly and flatly. 

Sansa couldn’t help but giggle at how terrible it was.

“Now, they’re off making us a niece or nephew.”

“Rickon!” Sansa scolded him. That was the last thing she wanted in her head. 

“What?” Rickon didn’t look bothered, “You’re telling me you and Dom Juan--”

“Stop,” Sansa’s fingers were on both sides of her temple, “Please stop talking.” Her eyes were closed. She was concentrating on trying to remove the last  part of this conversation from her brain, wanting to purge it from memory. She also threw in a prayer in case her first attempt didn’t work. 

Rickon’s laughter got her to open her eyes. She frowned upon understanding her brother’s intentions but that only made him laugh more. 

“And here I was about to help you with your problem,” she remarked casually, she did not hide her triumphant smile at how quickly Rickon’s mirth was snuffed and how his face transformed from amusement to alarm in an instant.

“No, wait,” he began frantically with his jumbled apology. His hands waving in front of him, words falling out of his mouth, but failing to make sense. 

She let Rickon struggle for a few more seconds in panicked uncertainty before pitying him. “I was going to say that you’re overlooking something that’s right in front of you. That comedian your girlfriend likes he’s just announced that he’s added new dates to his tour.” 

“What?” Rickon exclaimed,  “Are you serious? Patchface?” He was already on his phone looking to confirm which only took a second or two while he mumbled under his breath about their slow wi-fi before he got it. “This is great,” He shot up from the chair and all but sprinted out of the room to get his wallet, or just as likely one of mom or dad’s credit cards. She was certain he was refreshing Patchface’s page to make sure he wouldn’t miss out on the newly available seats. 

Sansa was still smiling when her phone buzzed. She leaned over to grab it on her nightstand where it was charging. It was a new email.  She opened it when she saw it was from her boss, Elia. 

It was short and sweet informing her that she didn’t have to come in until Wednesday.

She wrote a quick response of thank you with a number of exclamation points that far surpassed what would be considered professional. 

Sansa knew she’d never have bosses as nice or as good as Jaime and Elia and that included the possibility of her brothers if she ever did come north to work with them. It made it difficult for her to want to leave when her work life was so steady and she had no complaints. The pull to home was strong, but it would’ve been even stronger if her work sucked and her bosses were terrible. 

Sadly, for Sansa she was not suffering in that regard. She put her phone back and with only slight hesitation turned back around to face her suitcase and the inevitability that her departure was looming. 

It was over.

She did not want to focus on that so she checked the drawers of her dresser and then the pockets in her suitcase to account for everything. Nothing was missing, she ignored the small temptation to accidentally forget to unpack something very important. So she’d and Domeric would have to come back. She then stubbornly chose to ignore the logic that it could just be mailed to them. 

In the morning we’ll be on our way to King’s Landing. She closed her suitcase. Where our lives are. Where our jobs are. She hoped the reminder would push away her gloom, but it proved ineffective.

She zipped it up. The only bright spot she had was that there was still a family dinner tonight. That was why she wanted everything as ready as she could. That way her remaining time would not be wasted and she’d be able to spend as much of it as she could with her friends and family. 

Including Domeric, she was pleased and relieved at how well her boyfriend had handled himself in her family’s company especially her older brothers, Robb and Jon. The relief stemmed more on her brothers’ behavior than any fault or worry on Domeric’s part. 

She would not forget the state of Domeric, Gendry, and her brothers when they had returned from their bar adventure. The Uber driver was not just thankful to get rid of them, but glad that none of them had thrown up in his car. Watching them supporting one another, stumbling into the house, bleary eyed and groaning about the amount of alcohol they talked themselves into drinking was a memory she wouldn’t soon forget. 

It wasn’t exactly what I imagined, she admitted in regards to how she saw her brothers and boyfriend getting along, but she wasn’t about to complain. 

And when will the next chance be? She couldn’t help but wonder. It’ll be Christmas. She didn’t think it would be difficult to spend the holidays with her family. She was certain Domeric would be amenable to it. 

Maybe we can come a little earlier and stay a little later. She planned, but her mood was only temporarily improved because she knew it would just be another vacation. Only a few days, maybe a little more than a week if she was lucky, and she realized that wasn’t enough time. Not anymore. 

“Sansa?” 

She turned to see Domeric had slipped back in. He was holding his phone. 

“Is everything, okay?” She looked him over, and was having difficulty deciphering the expression that had settled over his face. 

“Yeah, how about you?” 

“I’m sad that it’s nearly over,” She wouldn’t lie to him, and even if she tried she knew he’d see through it. “I knew it would be tough to leave,” she didn’t want to go further in fear it would look as if she was putting any pressure on him. 

“I understand,” He gave her a sympathetic look. “I did just get some interesting news.” 

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Mance has bought a controlling interest in Crow Records.” He explained, “And he’s asked me to come help him as both a producer and musician in overseeing the changes he wants to make.”

It took a few slow seconds for the words to sink in and what it meant. To remind herself that Crow Records was in town. When it all clicked, her heart was threatening to burst with this sudden swell of happiness at this unexpected, but delightful news. 

“So,” He was smiling, “what do you think about moving up here?” 

She quickly moved across the room nearly jumping into his arms to hug him. We can stay! 

He laughed, “So is that a yes?” 

“YES!” She kissed him.  

The End