Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Love didn't just happen to us. We built it slowly, stone by stone, over the years.

- Catelyn Stark

Like most people her age, Sansa never imagined being a mother at age twenty. She thought parenthood was something later down the line, once she’d married the man she loved and they decided it was time. She figured, at this age, she’d still be in college, living her life to the fullest while also securing herself a bright future.

She’d imagined it so many times since she was young that it seemed so tangible. Except the universe had other plans.

And now, there she stood in front of her brother’s apartment in Winterfell, with frozen fingertips and sweaty palms as she rocked the babe on her arms into slumber.

She hasn’t been home for years, her sudden arrival unplanned and therefore unexpected. As far as her family knew, she should still be in King’s Landing, attending the Red Keep University for her third year.

Yet that’s not where life took her. She hasn’t even stepped foot in King’s Landing for almost two years now, and she never wanted to do so again.

She reached for the door and knocked despite her hammering heartbeat. It took a few more tries before someone finally opened the door.

Somewhat a relief to her, it’s not her brother who appeared in front of her, but his roommate.

Jon Snow stood there with his mess of curls and sleepy eyes thick with confusion. He’s shirtless and barefoot, wearing only an old pair of sweats that hung low on his waist.

She must’ve woken him up from sleep, she thought guiltily. But she didn’t really have much choice; it was either wasting her money renting a room at a cheap motel or going straight to her brother for help.

Jon shifted on his foot awkwardly, his gaze travelling from her down to the babe in her arms.

He’s not her brother, but it can be some sort of test-run to see how the rest of her family may react.

She sucked in a deep breath as she watched him, nervous, but his gaze is back on her before she could even get a read on what he’s thinking.

“Sansa.” His words came slow, voice raspy with sleep.  “You - uh… what are you doing here?”

“Hey, Jon… Is my brother home?”

He turned behind him as though he had to check for himself if Robb was actually there. “No, uh. Robb is - he moved out months ago. He’s in Essos..” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “He didn’t tell you?”

She made a face, remembering countless of phone conversations with her brother where she was too distracted to truly know what he was saying.

“He probably did,” she admitted guiltily, cursing at herself. She glanced toward the hallway, considering her options. “Well, I guess that’s it. Sorry for the intrusion, I’ll just - uh -“

“Where will you go?“

The question stopped her from moving. 

She didn’t actually know where else to go, that was the truth. Had it been earlier and not three in the morning, she would have gone straight to her parents and got it all over with. 

But she needed a bit more time to compose herself; she wanted to be calm and collected once she told them the truth, not exhausted and a shivering mess.

Before she could come up with a good enough lie, Jon spoke up. “How about you come inside and stay for the night?” He offered kindly, stepping aside to let her through. “It’s way too late for you to be out wandering the streets.“

“No, that’s not necessary. I don’t want to impose - “

“Sansa, it’s not an imposition,“ he sighed out, looking at her with the warmest pair of grey eyes she’d ever seen. “You have a babe with you and it’s freezing out. Just stay.“

It’s not like he doesn’t have a point: she came here hoping to stay the night because it’s easier and her brother wouldn’t have turned her away. Why would she say no to an offer she was hoping for in the first place?

Sansa agreed reluctantly, allowing Jon to take her things inside his apartment. He led her into his bedroom.

“Robb’s old room is a mess so you can stay here for now, “ he said awkwardly. “If your want anything, I’ll just be outside.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Jon.”

He offered her a smile and left, shutting the door gently behind her.

She took a deep breath and settled Ned in the middle of the bed, blocking the sides with pillows so he doesn’t move too much.

Tomorrow she’ll have to face her family and tell them just how badly she’s messed up. For now, though, she can pretend that things will be okay.

She stayed in the room for a bit, hoping to fall asleep. The bus ride had taken half the day and she felt beyond exhausted, but no atom in her body had any desire to rest.

She stepped outside of the room quietly, careful not to wake Jon in case he’s already asleep.

He’s not: he’s on the floor, sitting infront of  his laptop propped on the coffee table with piles of books on the side.

He turned towards her when she shut the door and she offered him a sheepish smile.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

He’s wearing glasses. She doesn’t remember him ever wearing glasses; it’s a good look on him.

She walked toward the couch and sat quietly. “I’m nervous,” she admitted to him, to her own confusion. “Sorry for waking you up, by the way.”

He waved it off. “I had an alarm set up, anyway. I would’ve woken up regardless.”

“What are you doing?”

He gestured towards his laptop. “Research for my boss’s presentation. I’m just double-checking before I send it to him.”

That’s right, she remembered. Robb had mentioned that Jon got into the biggest engineering firm in the North; he was scouted by the company right after college.

Robb bragged about it as though it was him who got the job and not his best friend.

Reminded of her brother, a question slipped its way into her mind. “Why is Robb in Essos?”

She’d been trying to figure it out since Jon had told her: for the life of her, she couldn’t imagine a situation where her brother told her he was moving out of the country and it just goes over her head.

He leaned back to look at her, amusement suddenly coloring his face as he prepared himself to reply. “He met a girl, a tourist, and when she left he decided to chase after her halfway across the world.” Jon met her eyes with a fond smile. “You Starks are wildly unpredictable.”

She looked down and chewed on her lip. “How did mom and dad take it?”

“Not well at first, of course. He didn’t really give them any warning or anything before he left, but I think they’re starting to be okay with it.” Glancing at her, he must’ve noticed her frightened expression because he added: “Hey, you’ll be okay.”

She shook her head, disbelieving “I have a son, Jon, and I never even told them about him.”

He’s quiet for a moment, thoughtful. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but… why didn’t you tell them?”

The simple answer was that she was afraid to disappoint her parents;  they’d trusted her to go South and finish her degree. She promised they wouldn’t regret letting her go, that she’ll work hard, graduate with top grades, and then go on to become successful in her chosen field. She promised to make them proud.

Yet on her sophomore year, on what seemed to have been a growing pile of mistakes, she started dating Harry Hardyng.

Two months later she was pregnant with his child and she’d believed him when he said they’ll figure it out. Afraid as she was to tell her family, she let Harry drag her back to his hometown and lived there with his parents.

The plan had been simple; since Harry was already a senior in college, he was going to finish his degree at a nearby university in the Eyrie. Then they’ll move to their own place once he graduated and got a position at his father’s company. By then she would have already given birth, so she would have gone back to university as soon as she was able.

She’d promised that she was going to tell her family once she’d fixed everything, convincing herself that it’d be better to tell them once they no longer have to worry about what will happen with her life.

It seemed doable then, but time has a way of changing things. And now she’s back home, once again reminded by the universe that life is not a song and love is just not in the cards.

“What an idiot, right?” she asked sardonically, taking a sip of coffee once she finished her story.

Jon frowned. “You’re not. You were just afraid.”

She gave him a humorless smile. “You don’t have to be nice about it. I was stupid.”

He shook his head, as though her words personally offended him. “You’re being too hard on yourself. You’ve always been.”

She blinked at him in surprise, confused as to where that sentiment came from.

Jon sighed before explaining. “i’ve known you since you were seven, Sansa. We may not have been close, but I knew you. You always put too much pressure on yourself to be the perfect child, trying to compensate for all the trouble your siblings gave your parents. You always followed the rules, never stepped out of line. You did exactly what you were told without complaint even though everyone else got away with it when they messed up.”

He offered her a kind smile. “I get why you did what you did and your parents might get disappointed now but they’ll always love you. And they’ll come to understand.”

She turned away from him, afraid that the way he’s looking at her would make her cry

He didn’t use to be so good with words, either.

When morning came, she slipped out of Jon’s apartment quietly with Ned in tow, leaving only a thank you note on his coffee table with a silent promise to herself to return the kindness, before she headed to her parents.

They were shocked to see her, to say the least, and even more so when she told them her story.

They’re quiet as she spoke, letting her tell them every detail that she would allow herself to tell them, and didn’t get angry when she finished.

They’d simply accepted all that she said and assured her that she still had a place in their home, but she could clearly see the disappointment in their eyes.

And in her opinion, that had been worse than if they’d raged at her to their heart’s content.

The following weeks after her return was complicated; she could tell that her parents didn’t know what to do with her and therefore treated her to silence.

It all felt odd to her; she’s never been the problem child before. Even so. she knew her parents weren’t shy to give her other siblings a good scolding if it was warranted, and the continued silence only made it clearer how much she truly messed up.

The only consolation was that they didn’t treat her son the same way. In fact, instead of dwelling on the heartache she’d brought upon them for lying, it seemed as though they decided to pour all their love into their grandson instead.

She can be grateful for that at least.

She developed a routine during her stay at her childhood home. It’s not unlike the system she had in the Eyrie, only with a bit alteration.

Her baby always woke her up early in the morning for milk, sleepily grabbing at her breast for feeding time. Then she would bring him downstairs for breakfast, except where she used to prepare it for Harry, Ned, and herself, now her mother would have a meal waiting in the kitchen.

Afterwards, one of her younger brothers would play with him or her parents would take him to the park for a walk. Either way, it meant a bit of time for herself, so she’d use it to finish whatever task she has to do before her son goes looking for her again.

When that happened, she’d bring him back upstairs for feeding and then give him a bath before putting him into a nap.

In the afternoon, Jon has taken to coming over to check on her after work. Out of everything, it’s the oddest development in her life.

That’s not to say that his visits were unwelcome. In fact, it’s probably the one thing she looked forward to everyday.

The change in how her family treated her made it clear ghat they couldn’t connect the Sansa they knew and the one there with them now, and it made her hide herself behind a mask of steel as a way of bearing with the guilt and sadness.

Jon was the only one who didn’t treat her any differently. Though maybe that had more to do with the fact that they had no prior interactions until she appeared on his doorstep.

Whatever the case, his presence always eased the tension around the house.

It’s five months of the same tedious routine when she started considering to move out. When she came back to Winterfell, she was fully prepared to raise her son on her own; she didn’t expect her parents to forgive her so easily, but they had, and it gave her enough time to figure out how to proceed.

Now the path was clear; she knew she wanted to move out and raise her kid on her own, because Ned deserved someone who could. She can’t keep using her parents as crutches; she brought her son into this world so she was the one responsible for him, no one else.

She’s in the kitchen, looking at apartment listings in front of Bran’s computer when Jon found her.

He's  got Ned in his arms, humming a soft tune as her son curled up in his arms. She glanced at the clock, realizing that it’s about time for his nap. 

Usually, whenever she left Rickon to play with her son in the living room, her youngest brother would call her once Ned started getting irritable and when no amount of distraction could keep him from crying. But Jon must’ve arrived just in time and took over.

It’s a weekend, so he’s here much earlier than he would be on weekdays. He came over almost every single day now, without fail, and would always tell her if he was running later or stuck at work.

“No plans today?” she asked him, as she always would.

He shook his head simply as an answer.

She knew for a fact that he has a life outside of this; she’s friends with him on social media so she knew he had actual friends he interacted with in real life. So she often wondered why he would rather be there, spending all this free time with her and her son, when he has other options. She had no clue why he’s doing what he’s doing, or what he’s even doing, but she’s afraid to ask.

It felt easier to just go along with it, accepting all the care and support he would offer without complicating things.

It’s possibly reckless and something she may regret down the line, but she kept telling herself that it's not a big deal; he's just being a good friend, like he’s always been a good friend to her brother and sister. That could be reason enough.

‘You have work tonight?” He asked, leaning over her shoulder to check the screen. It’s a habit of his by now, because she always let him read whatever she was writing anyway.

But that’s not what he found now.

“Apartment listings?” His voice is thick with confusion, his head turning to her slowly. “You’re moving out?”

She worried her lip, turning to him hesitantly. At this point, Jon was probably the closest friend she had. In the five months that she’d been home, he has become her confidant; a support system she never imagined she’d have.

If he thought this was a bad idea, she’d be inclined to believe him.

She lifted a shoulder. “I was just considering my options, trying to see if I could actually do it. If it’s even practical,” she admitted, turning her attention back to the laptop.

Working as a contributor to a local fashion magazine, as well as writing for plenty of other online parenting sites, allowed her to be a stay-at-home mom. It wasn't the steadiest source of income but she got by well enough. If she decided to pursue this plan of moving out, she could take care of her son both financially and emotionally.

“Any particular reason why you want to do this?” Jon asked, his tone curious.

She glances towards the kitchen door as though she's expecting someone to come in any moment, but her parents went out to lunch with their friends, so she didn’t have to worry about being overheard.

“I don’t want to keep feeling like a burden here. I didn’t come back so my parents could fix all my problems for me.” She paused for a moment. “And I could do it, you know. I have money saved up, and I know my job isn’t stable but I’m getting there. The magazine editor told me that if a staff writer spot opened up, I’d be the first they called. I just…”

She trailed off. What she wanted to say next felt too selfish to give voice to, but Jon seemed to understand anyway.

Living with her family made her feel like a child; though she knew her parents meant well, they couldn’t really help treating her like one. She’s their kid, after all, and she’ll always be their kid.

But she’s also a mother now and she needs to be able to function without supervision.

Of course, she was well aware that living on her own with a child to take care of would be a different challenge altogether and it’s a decision that shouldn’t be made lightly.

She had firsthand experience of how tough it can be while she was in the Eyrie; sure, Harry was there. He went to work everyday, came home every night, and he provided for them financially, but it felt more like raising two children than having a partner in raising a child.

It was a lonely and tiresome endeavor. It’s also the one thing making her second-guess herself about this whole thing.

Why was she so eager to experience that again when she already knew how difficult it would be? If she left home, she’d be completely alone in raising Ned again.

“How about a trial run?” Jon asked suddenly, his eyes bright as a plan formed itself in his mind. “My lease is almost up so I was thinking of moving out, but... If you want, I can renew and you can move in." He paused, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I mean, you can't decide if it would be practical to move out, right? If you lived with me then you can see for yourself how it’s like without completely cutting yourself off of help.”

Chapter Text

Moving in with Jon came with a lot of adjustments, as she knew it would, but it honestly wasn't difficult.

Their setup was familiar to her; she did live with Harry for a time and even then she pretty much raised Ned on her own, so she figured it’ll be similar. But no, it was not.

She should’ve realized that it’d be different. Because Jon’s different. He’s actually a decent human being who has a big heart, so of course he wouldn’t let Sansa deal with everything on her own.

They shared a fifty-fifty responsibility over everything; he did most of the cooking, preparing their meal before he left for work and again after he got home, so the dishes were on her. She did the cleaning around the house because she spent more time at home than he did and he cleaned after himself anyway so it wasn’t a lot of work. And on weekends, they did laundry together, as well as grocery shopping, dividing the expenses evenly.

Always, their night ended with the pair of them on the couch, doing their own respective workload as some old film played quietly on the television.

It was more than she ever expected her life to be, and she’s grateful for it. And as the weeks bled into months, Jon became more and more involved with Ned’s upbringing, too; entertaining him, feeding him, picking him up when he cried, changing his diapers - the works.

It all sounded simple in theory, but these were things he didn’t have to do, but did anyway. Because he wanted to. She never asked him to do any of it,. Often, she was the one who reminded him that he didn’t have to do any of the things he did. But he would always just shrug and tell her that he’s got it and for her not to worry.

So she tried not to.

Before she knew it, a year has passed and she could barely remember how her life was like before Jon. They’d slipped into their new routine so organically that it sometimes felt like it’s how it’s always been,

“You do know you guys sound like a married couple, don’t you?” Arya asked, saying the same thing everyone already has, multiple times and on multiple occasions, once she’d explained how her and Jon’s dynamic worked.

Sansa, of course, didn’t dignify it with a response. They can all think whatever they wanted.

“Ned, come say hi to Aunt Arya,” she said instead, picking  her son up so he could see her sister on the screen so he could entertain his aunt for a while with his nonsensical babbling.

In a few months’ time, Arya would be returning home. She’s been living in Braavos for the past four years as she finished her degree and she's now on the leg end of it. Sansa was equal parts proud and jealous; she’s happy for Arya, of course. She’s worked hard to secure her future and soon she'll get to reap the fruits of her labor. It's incredible, but Sansa couldn’t help but also be envious; she always thought she’d have a degree by now, maybe even interning for one of the biggest fashion brands in the South and travelling to different places for her work.

She’d always imagined living a glamorous life, what she got instead were empty milk bottles and dirty diapers. She felt guilty even just thinking it; she loves her son and the life she has now. She wouldn't change anything about her life, even if she could.

Sometimes it just gets too overwhelming. Especially now that he was two years old. He has a lot more energy in him and it required a lot more effort on her part to take care of him. There’s always so much to do and so little time, the morning turning into night before she could even realize. 

She’s thinking on this when Jon finally got home. She was staring blankly at her computer when she heard the door unlock, Jon looking more sullen than usual as he entered.

He’d messaged her earlier to tell her that he’d be home late; there was apparently some work issue he had to fix before coming home.

He took his shoes off wordlessly and hung his bag on a rack before making his way towards her. Instinctively, she set her laptop aside just as he flopped down the couch, his head dropping on her lap with a sigh.

“i hate this day,” he declared, shutting his eyes.

Her hand flew to his curls, brushing it back gently. “What happened?”

“Thorne,” he said irritably, and it was all the information she needed.

Allister Thorne was one of the senior engineers at his firm and someone who seemed to enjoy giving Jon a difficult time.

She’s met him once or twice and thought he was a bitter old man. In her opinion, Thorne disliked Jon only because he’s actually great at what he does and their boss knows this and has taken an interest on that fact.

After a moment, Jon told her what happened and she did her best to listen. She knew enough about his work and the people he worked with to know the right things to say.

Unlike her complicated life, Jon was a pretty simple guy. Most of his problems revolved around work or his family, and she was happy enough to help him with both.

Ultimately, all he truly needed was an ear to listen and she was happy to offer hers. Some days it feels like it isn’t enough; Jon has played such a huge role in how well her life has become that it felt as though she could never match up

“How was your day?” he asked later, once he was done airing out his grievances.

“Same old,” she said simply, but the tone in her voice must’ve given something away.

He quirked his eyebrow, studying her. “Did you have a crisis?”

“Just a little,” she admitted, leaning back on the couch as she sighed.

“about what?”

And then it was her turn to tell him about her concerns and for him to listen.

It still sometimes surprised her how well their arrangement worked out. At the start, she’d been so worried about so many things going wrong that she never expected things to turn out okay.

Over the year of them living together, weekends have become her favorite. For one, it meant Jon was home and things were always better when he was. It’s also easier for her because she has him to help with Ned while she finished work that she’d been unable to get to all week.

Sometimes, she felt guilty about that. She knew how tough his work was, a weekend to himself was probably something he ached for. Instead, he gets babysitting duty and not enough time for himself. Jon is a single, 24-year-old bachelor, yet his life is more akin to a married man’s.

“Do you regret it?” she’d asked later that Saturday night. “Letting me live with you?”

He shook his head. “Never. You know I love you and Ned, right? I won’t change this for the world.”

“But don’t you think you’d have more freedom if we weren’t here?” She asked, unable to help it.

Because they are living with a kid, they both have a lot of rules to adhere to.

Some are simple and easy enough to follow, like no cursing, no loud music at night, no leaving sharp objects in places Ned could reach. While some felt as though she’s asking too much of him, like no bringing dates over for some late night fun . Even though neither one of them even dated at all.

She felt guilty setting the rules but it was necessary. She wanted her son to grow up in a stable environment and though Jon was happy to oblige, she sometimes wondered if it ever got annoying to him.

He gave her a look. “San, what are you even talking about? I’m fine with how things are, stop worrying.” he paused. “Seriously, where is this coming from?”

Admittedly, it’s an issue she had with Harry before. It was all fun and exciting for him at the start, when having a kid and starting their family still sounded fun. But his take on it quickly changed after a week of sleepless nights and the never-ending cries of a child.

It quickly stopped being fun then.

Almost immediately, he'd reevaluated the level of involvement he wanted to have with raising their kid, choosing to leave it all to Sansa. He proclaimed that he was the man of the house and therefore was the one putting the food on the table, so he deemed that to be doing plenty enough.

She knew it wasn't at all the same thing with Jon, but that somehow just made it worse.

Jon has absolutely no reason to do all that he does; Ned isn’t his responsibility. Yet Sansa could always count on him more than she ever could with Harry.

As though the universe heard her pondering about how good she’s got it now and thought she needed more challenges her way, Ned fell sick the week after.

She’s not sure how or why he got sick, he was fine just hours before, happily playing on his mat until he wasn’t anymore. Suddenly, all he wanted was for Sansa to carry him around and would cry whenever she so much as sat down.

It only got worse from there; after two days of Ned being sick, and the doctor assuring them that it’ll pass with the medicine he’d prescripted, Sansa herself fell ill.

It was a combination of stress and exhaustion from taking care of her son with barely no sleep and she’d had to call Jon from work when she started to feel light headed.

He’d gone home immediately, insisting that he’s got Ned while she rested. So she did as he instructed and retired to her bed, waking up hours later to the sound of Ned’s crying.

Everything in her body told her to, rise up and take care of her son, but her mind was exhausted, her body even more so, and waking herself up was a huge effort.

The movement on the bed is what finally tugged at her consciousness, opening her eyes just as Jon rose up from the other side to pick Ned up in between them.

He stumbled a little as he did, sleepy himself, whispering soothing words into Ned’s ear as he rocked him gently in his arms.

“Go back to sleep, San,” Jon whispered suddenly, making her turn her attention back on him. She didn’t even think he noticed her waking up. “You need to rest, too.”

He walked over to her side of the bed, careful not to wake Ned, and reached out to feel her forehead.

She was hoping she’d feel better after sleeping, but she only felt more sick and miserable.

“I’m fine,” she still insisted stubbornly, pushing Jon’s hand away. “You’re the one who needs to rest, you have work. Let me take over with Ned.”

Jon pushed her gently back down on the bed when she tried to get up. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’re burning up.” He sighed. “i already called in sick so just rest, okay?”

She huffed irritably, though she let Jon pull up the covers to her chest.

It’s one of the many times she felt glad about deciding not to live on her own. It’s no thanks to her really, because the setup had been Jon:s idea, but she’s glad for it all the same.

I wouldn’t have known what to do without him , she thought groggily.

“Of course you would,” Jon said in response. “You’re the best mother I know, even compared to your mom. You’d have done alright on your own.”

His reply caught her off-guard, not realizing that she’d spoken the words out loud.

Perhaps he was right, but she was relieved that she didn’t have to find out.

She shut her eyes just as Jon started humming a familiar tune. Jenny of Oldstones , she thought idly as his smooth humming voice lulled her back into sleep.

The next time she woke up, it’s morning. She still felt drowsy and a bit out of it, but it was nothing compared to how terrible she felt last night. Next to her, Ned was also already awake, having been the one to wake her up by fiddling nonstop with her face to get her attention.

“Dada?” He asked her with a bright smile, pointing at Jon on the other side of her bed as he slept.

It had only taken Arya a week of her vacation in Winterfell a few months ago to teach Ned to call Jon that, yet it’s taking much longer to reverse it.

Not that Sansa was trying her best, though. She liked how bright Jon’s smile got whenever Ned called him so and privately wanted to keep seeing it.

He always looked so pleased about it and it never failed to make her heart flutter, warmth pooling at the pit of her stomach in a way that she kept refusing to believe was anything but platonic affection.

One of these days she’s going to have to correct the name, for all their sakes, but it didn’t have to be now.

She pressed a kiss to Ned’s forehead, pushing his curls away from his face.

“Good morning, love,” she greeted, her son stumbling over the words as he tried to parrot the sentiment back to her.

Deciding to let Jon sleep a while longer after taking care of them the entire night, she rose up quietly from the bed with Ned in tow, and they headed out into the living room.

Ned seems to be in a better mood compared to yesterday, though she knew it could change in any moment.

He’s only been sick twice before, both times occuring while she was still in the Eyrie. The first time it happened, he was only a few months old and they still lived with Harry’s parents.

Sansa clearly remembered how much it hurt when she’d heard Harry’s mom call her a ‘careless mother’ for letting Ned fall sick, as though her own son had taken an active role in caring for their sick babe in the days since. She’d swallowed back her tears and pulled up her mask of steel as she learned to do, pretending that the words didn’t matter.

Funny how that seemed like a lifetime ago; an event from the distant past that didn’t affect her as much as it used to.

Where were those people now, anyway? What good were they to her son?

She made soup for breakfast, craving for something hot, and then she watched some toons with Ned after they ate.

Usually, she limited the amount of television he watched to a minimum, but he was still warm and could burn up again, so she preferred him sitting on the sofa than to have him playing around and tiring himself out.

After a day, Ned’s sickness was gone, but hers remained for a few more days,

By the third night, she was completely irritable about it.

“I’m so sorry about this,” she told Jon as she watched him take the same spot on the other side of the bed. They decided it was easier to have him there in case either her or Ned needed anything.

He’s taken almost the entire week off work now, taking care of both of them, and refused to believe that she was feeling better no matter how much she insisted.

That was the downside to knowing someone so well, she supposed. He could read her like a book.

“San, don’t worry about it,” he assured her, raising his arm over his head in a position she was starting to think was his favorite.

And when she did get better, she found that waking up without him in her bed was even worse. She’d quickly gotten so used to waking up with the sight of him first thing in the morning that she genuinely kind of missed it.

And her bed never felt so empty as it now did.

“Which one is yours?”

Sansa was sitting on one of the benches, flipping through her work emails, when she heard the question.

Looking up, she found a blonde woman standing next to Jon, the pair of them a short distance away. She caught the girl glancing at his hand, probably looking for a wedding band.

Sansa bit her lip on a smile just as Jon cleared his throat. “Um, the one in blue.”

“Oh. Obviously.” The woman smiled and nodded as she looked at Ned, as though she should've guessed. “He looks just like you, same curly hair too.”

“Thanks,” he said gruffly, not bothering to correct her. .

Sansa rolled her eyes. He’s always so awkward whenever women came onto him, almost as though he was adverse to the attention.

“I’m just not interested,” he’d always say when she bugged him about it.

“In anyone?” She’d reply incredulously because that couldn’t be true.

The question would always make him rub the back of his neck nervously, which she assumed meant that there was someone he was interested in and just wouldn’t tell her who.

She had her suspicions about who it could be, though. He’d broken up with his longtime girlfriend, Ygritte, just shortly after Sansa got home. He never told her the reason behind their breakup and she never asked, but Jon hadn’t dated anyone else since, so she suspected that he was still harboring some feelings for his ex.

She wished she could help him get over it, though, because Ygritte seemed to have moved on and he can’t hold onto his feelings forever. He deserved to be happy, too.

“I’m Val, by the way,” the woman spoke again, pulling Sansa’s attention back to them.

He reached for her outstretched hand hesitantly. “Jon.“

“And your son?”

“Uh, Ned.” As though finally realizing that the woman wanted to talk, he added. “How about yours?’

She laughed immediately, waving off the question. “Oh, no. I’m just babysitting my nephew.”

Jon nodded and Sansa could just tell that he had nothing else to say to that. She almost snorted out in amusement. He’s such a bad conversationalist.

“Ned, no. Don’t eat that,” he said suddenly,  leaning down towards Ned to take the ripped grass leaves from his hand.

“That’s not food, remember?”

“No?” Ned asked with a pout, shaking his head in inquiry. He glanced towards his playmate, Clyde, who has just returned with biscuits in his hand. “Baby, no?”

“You want biscuits, too?”

He nodded eagerly.

“Go get some from mommy, then,” Jon instructed with an amused huff of laughter, ruffling his hair before letting him go.

The woman he was talking to, Val, turned her attention to Sansa as her son ran towards her, and she pretended not to notice the staring.

When she looked back up after wiping Ned’s hands clean and handing him a biscuit, Val was suddenly nowhere to be seen and Jon was making his way towards the bench.

She shook her head and laughed, it’s clear from his expression that he knew exactly what he did. He let Val believe she was hitting on an unavailable man to get her to leave.

“You’re ridiculous,” she let him know, and he only shrugged in reply.

He sat down next to her. “I told you, I’m not interested in dating right now.”

Ned pulled himself up onto Jon’s lap, munching on his biscuit happily while Jon teasingly tried to bite into it.

As she watched them, something Val had said earlier echoed in her mind.

He looks just like you .

Ned has always looked more like Sansa; the shape of his face, his eyes, nose, his red hair. Yet in a lot of ways that counted; in the way he would often pout, that rubbing the back of his neck thing he did whenever he felt unsure, the way he would sometimes wrinkle his nose when he didn’t like something, those were all Jon’s mannerisms that he’d adopted.

It was only then that she’d realized just how far they’ve come and how much Jon has become a part of their life.

He’s more than just a supportive friend at this point, he was a partner in raising Ned. As he had been from the moment she’d stepped on his doorstep nearly two years ago.

“San, you okay?”

Jon was frowning when she turned back to him and she realized how frightened she must have looked.

How could she not be scared? She’d let herself fall in love with him without even knowing it.

She nodded numbly, not meeting his eyes, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Chapter Text

As much as Sansa would’ve wanted to keep over-analyzing her newly discovered feelings for Jon, she had plenty of other things to take up her mind. 

After two years as a contributing writer to one of the biggest fashion magazines in the North, she finally got the call to be interviewed for the position of staff writer. 

She’d been waiting for the call a long time, almost gave up hope at some point, but the time has thankfully arrived.

During her interview, she’d been honest as she could be about herself, and the Head Editor was very understanding of her situation. Apparently, she’d gotten a great recommendation from the Contributing Head, saying that her articles were always interesting and always got huge traffic on the website, so they were willing to compromise. 

While she will have the same workload as everybody else, they offered her very flexible hours considering her situation. She hadn’t asked for it, but the woman interviewing her seemed to understand that being a single parent was complicated.

Getting used to her new routine wasn’t easy; she was used to spending her days with Ned, so leaving him for even just a few hours was difficult. It didn’t make her feel any better to hear that her son would cry whenever she left, and would only stop once his caretaker finally managed to distract him.

Things around the house changed as well; her and Jon’s schedule matched enough that Ned only had to stay with the sitter for a few hours, at most. She would leave after lunch and go home sometime around nine, but by then Jon would’ve already been home that all she has left to do was put Ned to bed. 

What remained the same was how her night would end, sitting with Jon on the couch as they spent a few hours where they could just relax.

“Ned’s turning four in a month,” Jon blurted out during one of those nights. 

 She was lying on the couch while she read a book, her feet on Jon’s lap as he distractedly massaged it. His comment made her turn to him curiously because of course she knew her son’s birthday, and she wondered where he was going with the conversation. 

“And our lease will be up soon, too,” he followed up slowly. 

Now she got it; she sat up and shifted to the other end of the couch, mentally preparing herself for the conversation. 

She has been thinking about it, too. And the longer she did, the harder it was to convince herself that Jin would want to keep living this way. 

He’s still a man, after all. Single and in his prime, he probably wanted more in his life than what he has now. And the only thing keeping him from living his life was her. 

“So, I was thinking…” She sucked in a deep breath as he pressed on, unsure how to react to whatever he’ll say. “Maybe we could start looking for a bigger place? Maybe a three bedroom apartment so Ned could have his own space?”

That was… not what she was expecting him to say at all. 

She blinked at him in a mixture of surprise and confusion. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, curious. 

“Well… you’re twenty-five, Jon. Don’t you want to see how it’s like out there and start living your life? You know… without Ned and I? 

“Why would I want that?” he asked in confusion, taking a moment before his expression cleared into understanding. “Sansa, I never stopped living my life. Just like you never did, either. It’s just different, but not in a bad way. Besides, it’d suck living without you guys. I’ll miss you too much.”

She could only stare at him, her chest aching with so much joy. 

“So we’re agreed?” He asked after a moment, regarding her curiously.. “You’re good with us looking for a bigger place?”

All she could do was nod, not trusting herself not to cry if she let herself speak.

The months following that conversation was pretty hectic; between Ned, their jobs, and preparing to move, there didn’t seem like a time to just sit down and rest. 

She didn’t mind, though. It felt as though checking something off a list, like she’d passed a level and was ready to head into a new one.

“Sansa. Hey,” one of her colleagues called. 

She looked up from what she was typing on her laptop and glanced at Beth Cassel on the table across from her. 

She offered a polite smile and waited for the girl to continue. “Are you free friday night? Some of us thinking of going out for drinks and we wanted to see if you could come.”

“Oh. Uh - “ she tried not to make a face, her mind scrambling for an excuse. 

They didn’t usually ask her days prior to the event so she usually used Ned as an excuse not to tag along. 

Seeming to see right through her, Beth smiled. “Come on, Sansa. It’s just one night. You’ve been here for months and you never come out with us. it’ll be fun, I swear.”

She doesn’t make any promises, but she did say she’ll consider it. 

“What:s to consider? Just go,” Jon prompted with furrowed brows. “I can take care of Ned for a night, Sansa. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I know that,” she said. “That’s not really my issue.”

“Then what is?”

She huffed. “It’s just weird, okay?”

The first and last time she went out for drinks with her workmates had been to celebrate her joining the team. It wasn’t terrible; it was even fun for a while, until she realized that’s not where she wanted to be.

At the end of the day, they all had their reasons for being there. Maybe it was just to let off steam, maybe find someone to hook up with, or maybe even to find a romantic prospect - but it wasn’t the same for Sansa. 

She had a kid waiting for her at home, and the man she’s hopelessly in love with taking care of him. There was nowhere else she wanted to be but at home.

Yet somehow, Jon still managed to talk her into it. And as more days went by, she started to get excited for it, too. 

Maybe it could be fun. 

Sansa
Jon
I need your help with something

Grumpy
what is it? 
you need me to come home?

Sansa no
nothing like that

She sent him five pictures of herself sporting different dresses. She didn’t really have anyone else to ask, Arya probably wouldn't even respond if she did. 

Grumpy
um
what am i supposed to do? 

Sansa
help me choose
which one looks good on me

Grumpy
all of them

Sansa
not helping

Grumpy
its the truth

Sansa
jon

Grumpy
okay fine
let me check again 

Sansa
thanks

Grumpy
i like the one with the wolf bit
and the leather one that looks like you’re going into battle
also the one with the chain but i like the other two better

Sansa
that’s three
just pick one

 Grumpy
sansa

this is hard idk what to choose
but
IF i really had to… i’ll say the armor one

Sansa
noted
now get back to work
thanks

Grumpy
right
 

The dress was decent enough that it’s what she wore for work, though she does put a coat over it so she doesn’t feel too self-conscious. 

Almost all of the writers in her department was going, with a few from the other teams coming along, and they headed into Wildlings’ as soon as work was out. 

She found Ygritte on the bar when she went to go get herself,a drink. She’s forgotten all about Jon’s ex-girlfriend that she wasn’t expecting to see her there. But she does vaguely remember Jon telling her that his ex worked at a bar in town. 

“Stark. You look good,” is the first thing Ygritte said when she saw her. “What are you having?”

The last time she saw Ygritte was probably a month or so before she and Jon broke up. That would be years ago, and while she knew Jin and her maintained a relationship after their break-up, Sansa liked to avoid thinking about it. 

“Ygritte, hi. Um, I’ll have a lemon Daiquiri.”

She started making it for her, Sansa just waiting there awkwardly until she was handed her drink. 

“Snow seen you in this get-up yet?”

It’s an odd question to ask and Sansa found herself blinking in confusion as she tried to figure out why Ygritte would even ask. 

“Um… he has. Why?”

At that, Ygritte snorted. “Cool. Drink’s on the house.”

“Thanks?”

She went back to their table in confusion, though she can’t say the odd conversation lingered for much longer. 

Later in the night, a guy approached Sansa at their table. There’s only a few of them left bt then, the rest either flirting with strangers or dancing at the other side of the bar. 

The guy looked to be around hee age, maybe a year or so older. He’s got bright blue eyes, blonde hair, and an easy way about him that reminded her of her past flings. 

Had she been younger, just the sight of his smile would’ve made her swoon. She always did go for the pretty boys. But she’s much older now, just a bit more jaded and cynical, and the empty smiles did nothing for her. 

The guy stayed with her for some time, trying to make conversation. He was nice enough and funny, but he left her alone after a while, finally realizing that she just wasn’t interested. 

She can’t say that she minded, though. And decided to go home not long after that.

Jon was asleep on the couch when arrived, one leg hanging over the floor, with his arm behind his head. 

She made her way to him with an amused smile, taking the small space left to sit on. She just sat there and stared at him for a while, wondering how she got so lucky to have him in her life. 

She reached for him, gently brushing his curls off his forehead. He looked so peaceful.

He opened his eyes suddenly, woken up by her touch. 

“Hey, you, ” he greeted sleepily, offreing her a tired smile. 

“Hi. Sorry I woke you,” she said on a whisper, her fingers still twined with her locks.  

He waved it off. “How was the thing? Did you have fun?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Surprisingly. It was exhausting, though.”

He reached for her hand and pulled her down, easing her onto the couch. “C’mere.”

He shifted again, making space for her, and she settled down without much thought. 

She used his arm as a pillow while the other one went around her waist. She made herself comfortable and leaned back to feel his chest against her before finally drifting into sleep. . 

It’s Ned who woke them up the next day, jumping onto them to join in on the cuddling.

“Good morning,” he greeted loudly, wrapping his tiny arms around the both of them as he giggled. 

Sansa groaned at the sound, her head throbbing. She doesn’t think she drank too much last night, but the effects of a hangover were still there. 

Jon shifted behind her, his breath warm on her neck as he let out a low chuckle.. 

“Morning buddy,” he said, sounding amused as he removed his arm around her, presumably to ruffle Ned’s hair as he usually did. . “You hungry?”

“Mhm. I think I want pancakes.”

“That sounds awesome,” Jon agreed enthusiastically. ‘Let’s make some then. Go on to the kitchen, bud. I’m right behind you.”

“Okay,” Ned chirped, shifting off the couch before running off. 

Jon chuckled again and pressed a kiss to Sansa’s forehead. “Go get a bit more sleep in, I got this.”

Chapter Text

Sansa heard laughter coming from her son's bedroom as soon as she got into the apartment, the sound so joyous and innocent that it instantly brought a smile to her face.

"Jon," Ned called out with a shriek, followed by whooshing sounds and war cries coming from the man himself. "Behind you! Duck!"

They must be doing bedtime stories; Jon gets really into the stuff, more than Ned sometimes, acting out scenarios from stories he'd come up with purely for her son's entertainment.

She took off her coat at the door, hanging it on the rack as the new addition to their family, a huge albino pup, padded towards her. She knelt, ruffling his furs fondly before kissing the top of his head.

"Here's my good boy," she cooed with a fond smile, letting him lick her face in greeting.

Admittedly, she didn't initially want a dog, no matter how much Ned begged for one. Raising a kid was challenging enough as it is, she didn't want to add another, albeit almost just as cute, dependent to her list of responsibilities.

But her son, clever as as he was, knew who the person to bargain with was if he really wanted to get his way. Soon after a very firm no from her, he changed gears and instead approached Jon with a solid argument about why he should want a pet dog for himself. He framed it as beneficial to Jon, since dogs were, after all, man's best friend.

They saw right through him, of course, but it was amusing than anything to listen to his spiels, so they let him keep going, until, as Sansa expected, Ned actually did crack his defenses.

She'd laughed in Jon's face one night when he came up to her, suddenly arguing in favor of their kid's cause, and swearing that they will take on all the responsibilities of caring for a dog, so she'd relented.

A month later, they got this giant direwolf for Ned's birthday. Ghost was easily the most frightening pup at the shelter, with his pale white fur and blood red eyes, but the three of them didn't even have a chance to consider any of the other dogs they were presented with. Ghost simply butted his side against Ned's leg and licked his hand as if he was choosing him, and just like that, the boy fell in love.

With a final kiss to the top of his head, Sansa rose from the floor and made her way to her son's room quietly. She gets there just as Jon swung one of Ned's toy swords theatrically, completely committed to his role.

Sansa grinned as he defeated some invisible foe, his movements so smooth it almost looked like a dance. He continued to narrate the events of his story, all the while acting them out as well. She leaned over the door frame, arms crossed as she watched in amusement. When her son noticed her, she put a finger to her lips so he doesn't alert Jon of her presence.

It isn't until he did a turn, swinging the sword in a practiced motion as he went, that he saw Sansa. He broke character just for a split second, grinning sheepishly at her, before his eyes alighted with an idea.

"Finally, he defeated the fire-breathing monster," he told Ned with a final swing and made loud sounds of, presumably, a monster getting oblitirated. "And the Knight was free to rescue the Princess locked inside the tower."

He turned to her again, smiling mischievously as he walked straight towards her. She rolled her eyes teasingly but played along anyway when he knelt in front of her.

"My Lady. I have come to rescue you."

"My brave Knight." She clutched her hands to her heart, acting out her part. "Rise, so I may thank you properly."

He does as instructed and she glanced at Ned, curled up on his bed with his blanket over his mouth to cover a huge grin on his face.

"I wonder... how shall I repay such kindness?" She asked aloud.

"With a kiss," Ned whispered in reply, as if afraid to make too much noise lest the story ends before it should.

She and Jon stifled their laughter. Maybe Ned got it from her. She, too, was a sucker for these kind of stories when she was young. At her son's request, she walked towards Jon and smacked a loud kiss on his cheek, making her baby squeal in delight.

"What happens next?" He asked eagerly afterward, sitting up on his bed excitedly as they both turned to him.

"That," Jon began as he walked towards him. "You'll have to find out next time."

'it's over already?" He pouted, evidently trying to get one of them to cave to his adorableness. Privately, Sansa thought the pout was a neat little trick he'd learned from Jon. "But you only just started."

She settled on the other side of his bed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You know you have to sleep, baby. Jon will tell you the rest next time."

He let out a dramatic sigh, making Jon snort as she stifled her own smile.

"Okay, fine," he relented, settling back down on his pillow. He turned to Jon after a moment of silence. "Does the Princess ever save the Knight?"

"What do you think?" Jon asked with a smile, tucking him under the covers.

"Hmm." He thought about it for a few seconds. "I think so."

"Then she does," Jon agreed, planting another kiss on his forehead. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."

"Deal," he agreed before dragging them both to him so he could kiss them good night.

Once Ned finally let them go and they're out the door, she poked Jon on the side. "I thought you had a date?"

She wasn't expecting him to be home when she arrived; they've arranged for Arya to watch Ned for the night because Sansa had to stay out late and Jon's workmate had set him up with a friend of a friend or something.

He shrugged. "I bailed. Have you eaten?" She shook her head. "Me neither. I'll whip something up."

She thanked him and went to her room to wash up and change into more comfortable clothes. Five years and her nights with Jon were still the one thing she looked forward to everyday.

He's about done with cooking when she went into the kitchen, leaning over the counter. "You bailed on your date?" She asked, following up from the conversation before, which he probably thought he'd already deflected.

"Not like I wanted to go in the first place," he answered easily, switching off the stove, and she could pretend all she wanted that she wasn't relieved to hear it.

He separated their food into two bowls and she walked to one of the cupboards to get their mugs, her cream-colored one with lemon drawings on one side and his black one with snow falling on the bottom.

They'd bought it as a pair during a grocery trip sometime ago and it struck her, not for the first time, how domestic it all was. How... familial.

She wondered if it scared him sometimes, just how entwined his life was with hers and Ned's. It probably should scare him, or make him worry at least. This set-up they have... it can't possibly end well. Their lives were too meshed together that it'd take effort to untangle once he meets a girl. And it will be messy when they do.

"What are you thinking?" He asked when he noticed her frozen on the spot, staring at the mugs.

With furrowed brows, he took them from her hand. He poured coffee on his, black with two sugar cubes, and poured lemon juice on hers without even having to ask. She stared at him as he did this, her stomach churning at the thought that one day, maybe soon, she won't have this anymore. This closeness with him, this quiet bond they shared that has only strengthened over the years.

"What happens when you meet someone you actually want to date?" She asked, the words slipping out of her mouth before she could stop them from coming out.

He turned to her, eyebrows quirking in curiosity. "I already have."

"Oh?" She asked, trying hard to hide her surprise, "Anyone I know?"

The way he's looking at her made her feel as though she was being tested or something and she felt too exposed, an open book he could easily read.

A teasing smirk slipped onto his face, seeing right through her. "I was kidding. Don't worry your head about it."

"I wasn't worried," she lied weakly. "I was just curious."

"San, I could see the panic in your eyes," he told her with a snort, flicking her forehead teasingly. "Your brain was going, 'How long do I have before he leaves?', 'What do I do first when it happens?', 'How do I tell Ned?', and all those other crazy stuff you always think about."

"Crazy stuff," she repeated with an indignant huff. "It's not crazy. You know I have to think of those kind of things."

"Well, stop worrying about me leaving, then, because it's not happening." He shook his head. "Not unless you drag me out, anyway."

She chewed on her lip, her heart still going a mile a minute at the thought he'd put in her head, of some imaginary girl he might've fallen for.

"You'll tell me, though? If you ever do find someone?" She asked.

His lips quirked up as if she'd just said something ironic. He walked towards her, earnest grey eyes fully on her. He just stared at her for a moment and she could tell he was trying to think of the right words to say.

Finally, he reached for her, pulling her closer to press a soft kiss on her forehead. "I promise you'll be the first to know."

Winter has only just begun when her brother announced his girlfriend's pregnancy via their family group chat. And before anyone could even reply with their congratulations, he quickly followed it up with the news that they'd be flying home shortly.

Apparently, they've been planning the move for months, but had decided to keep it to themselves until they've secured the house they wanted just a few towns over. She'd heard most of it from Jon since he was the one to help Robb secure the place but reading it on text still felt kind of crazy and sudden.

"Sometimes I think you're all actively trying to give your mother a heart attack," Jon told her in the morning, discussing it as she cooked and as he prepared Ned's school snack. "It's good, though, right? It'll be nice to have him close by."

"I guess," she granted, flipping the egg on the heated pan. "But it's kind of weird to think about. It's been way too long since all of us were in one place."

She watched as he grabbed her mug from the counter, making a face after he'd taken a sip. She liked her coffee much sweeter than his.

"You're Starks. No matter how far you go, you'll always end up in Winterfell," he told her knowingly, with all the wisdom of someone who's known all of them his entire life. "The pack survives and all that."

She snorted at that last bit, shaking her head in amusement. "You listen to dad's stories too much." She took her coffee back from him and bumped her hips against his. "Can you check on Ned? Make sure he's actually taking a bath. I'll finish up here."

It's two weeks until Robb and his girlfriend were set to arrive and so arrangements were made and dinner at the big house was scheduled so they could all celebrate the new addition to their family.

With their kid and puppy in tow, she and Jon headed to her parent's house early that Sunday evening. Her mother was the one to greet them at the door with a warm hug and a kiss on the top of Ned's head.

"You're early," she told them. "Robb and Talisa aren't going to be here for at least a couple more hours."

"We thought we'd help out," she explained as she took off Ned's coat and hung it along with hers and Jon's. "What still needs doing?"

"I'd be grateful for help in the kitchen. And Jon? If you could take care of the barbecue? My husband said he'd do them but he hasn't started and he should be leaving to pick Robb and Talisa up from the airport soon."

"I'm on it," he assured with a polite smile before turning to Ned. "Want to help me, bud?"

He nodded eagerly in reply and then they were off to the backyard with Ghost trailing behind as her mother led her into the kitchen, following whatever cooking instruction she's given.

"Robb and Talisa wants to get married," her mother told her conversationally, about half an hour into their task.

The tone was casual enough, but something about the way she said it made Sansa think the conversation was headed somewhere serious.

"Oh?" She asked, just as casual. "He didn't mention it to me but it's not that surprising, is it?"

Catelyn hummed "They want a small wedding. They think they want to have it soon, before the baby arrives."

Sansa didn't know what kind of reaction her mother was looking for, if she was honest. She didn't really have a strong opinion about her brother's plans. He's been with Talisa for years now, and with a baby on the way, marriage seemed like a good next step.

But, of course, she should've guessed that it wasn't about her brother at all.

"How about you and Jon?" She inquired suddenly. "Have the two of you considered it?"

"Considered what?" She ventured slowly, though she had a pretty good idea what her mother was trying to get at.

"Getting married. It doesn't have to be a big one, we could hold it in the backyard, dress it up nicely, or at a ballroom if you prefer." She said it so casually that Sansa has to stop and turn to check if she was being serious. "I really don't see why you're waiting. You're already living together, raising a child together, and you're both of age."

She could feel heat rising all the way to her neck. "Mom - " she choked out. "You know Jon and I are not in a relationship, right?"

She framed it as a question because she didn't actually know. She thought she'd mentioned it before but it's not a conversation that came up often with her mother for her to be sure.

"Well, I know kids these days have a very loose definition of the word. What's the term -- casual? Are you and Jon never planning to marry then?" She turns to Sansa expectantly and she wished the ground could swallow her whole. Her mother, possibly her father as well, thinks she and Jon are --

"We are not - " she shook her head, at a loss for words. "It's not like that."

"What then? It's serious, like we thought? You don't have to be so wary, Sweetheart. If you're just worried that your father and I won't approve then perish the thought. Jon has a good head on his shoulders and he makes you happy. Not to mention, he's great with your son. As your parents, we would love nothing more than to see the pair of you settled."

"Your approval is appreciated, mom. But again, Jon and I are not together. In any sense of the word."

Which wasn't completely true, she granted. That she and Jon are not romantically together would've been the better way to phrase that but she was too flustered to have explained it better.

Once she was done with helping in the kitchen, she headed into the backyard to check on her boys. Jon was still doing the barbecue, but Ned had moved on to help his Uncle Rickon set up the long table so they could have the meal under starlight.

Once she's sure her son didn't need anything, she headed straight for Jon, claiming his bottle of beer and taking a swig from it.

He raised his eyebrows at her, a private question. What happened?

"Apparently, my mother thinks we should get married," she said, putting it simply.

His lips quirked up on a smile, which wasn't exactly the reaction she was expecting. She assumed he'd laugh about it or maybe even rub the back of his neck awkwardly.

It's not the first time someone had assumed they were together. Plenty of people in town thought it was the case, others even assumed he was Ned's biological father. They didn't bother correcting it because it wasn't really anyone's business.

"Well, I mean..." His smile turned teasing. "We are of age and we are practically married, so why not make it official?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, the line sounded too familiar. "She talked to you, too?"

He shook his head. "Your dad did. He always throws it around here and there, but - I think it was a few months ago? - he offered me your mom's engagement ring. Said they'd be happy to pass it down, if I ever wanted to propose."

Her jaw dropped in shock, making him snort in amusement. She let her head drop against his back, hiding her face. "That is so embarrasing."

"Of course I declined," he continued with a shrug, a teasing lilt to his voice as he took her hand and brought it close to his face. "I told him I have my grandmother's ring that my mom left me and I'd prefer that on your hand."

She shook her head, pretending that the insinuation didn't make butterflies flutter wildly in her stomach. "That won't make them stop, now, will it?"

"Well, I've tried telling your dad we aren't together many times but he remains unconvinced." He turned to her. "What did your mom say?"

"She gave us her blessing, mostly."

"Blessing?" He asked skeptically, this time he does look surprised. "As in she actually wouldn't mind you marrying me?"

"They would love nothing more than to see it happen, apparently."

He coughed, choking on air, and this is more of the reaction she'd been expecting earlier. "She did not really say that," he said in disbelief, his ears turning a shade of pink.

"She does like you, you know," Sansa had to point out because she knew he still sometimes doubted it.

Her mother didn't have the best opinion of Jon when they were younger, but then she hadn't really liked any of Robb's other friends. She thought they were rowdy and disrespectful, a generalization that was slapped onto Jon even though he was by far the nicest among Robb's group of friends.

Her mother realized this fact over the years, and has tried to make up for her misconception, but Sansa knew Jon still sometimes felt worried her mother thought badly of him.

"Catelyn Stark approves of me," he mused now, smiling in astonishment and she couldn't help but giggle about how pleased he sounded about it.

His uplifted mood carried him throughout the night, which amused Sansa more than anything.

"Did you finally tell him you're crazy for him?" Arya asked her just after dinner, pulling her aside with a frown directed at Jon.

"What? No," she said, nearly choking on her wine. What was it with her family tonight?

"Then why is he smiling like an idiot?" Arya pressed on.

"You're going to have to ask him," she answered, partly because she didn't want to tell Arya about the awkward conversation with her mother and partly because she wasn't too sure why Jon was so pleased about it herself.

"That's actually a good idea," Arya said, walking towards Jon before Sansa could stop her.

She watched as her sister cut into Jon and Robb's conversation. She's too far away to be able to hear them and Rickon is playing some loud pop music over the speakers, making it much harder to listen in, but she could read body languages pretty well.

Arya said something to Jon, a teasing smirk on her face, and Jon replied to whatever it was with a wide smile, bright like sunshine. Arya snorted at that and turned to her pointedly before shaking her head as if to say, "Idiots, the both of you."

And hard as Sansa has been trying not to over the years, she started to hope.

Sansa was in the middle of writing an article when Gilly approached her at her desk. "Sansa... someone's at the front desk looking for you," she said in a quiet tone, looking strained.

She wasn't expecting anyone to come see her so she couldn't be sure who it would be. It's probably not Jon because Gilly knew him and would have just said so. Plus, he would usually text to inform her beforehand. Any family or friend would know to message her first as well, not that any of them came to her place of work, anyway.

She turned to her friend curiously, wondering what had brought on her furrowed brows. "Did they say who they were?"

"He did," she responded with a nod. "He said his name was Harry Hardyng."

Now she got it, the hesitation. Gilly would know exactly who the man was.

She sucked in a deep breath, trying to reign in her shock. "Are you sure he said his name was Harry?"

None of her other workmates would recognize the name; they wouldn't know that he was her son's biological father, most simply assumed it was Jon. But Gilly knew her outside of work, they were friends.

It had been Jon, actually, who introduced them years ago when Sansa returned home. Gilly was a couple years older than her but they've both given birth at a young age. Jon thought they could use a friend who understood what the other was going through and he was right.

"I'm positive, San," Gilly told her, almost sheepishly. "He's, um... blond, blue eyes? Kind of looks like he's in a boyband?"

Sansa swallowed. "Yeah, that would be him."

She really didn't want the person outside to be Harry; she wanted her past to stay where it was, not to come barging back into her life like they belonged.

"Do you want me to tell him you're unavailable?" Her friend offered kindly, frowning at her in concern.

It's a tempting offer but Sansa knew Harry; he treated everything like a game, the more challenging it was the better. No use prolonging this.

"Thanks, but you don't have to, um, just -- I'll be out in a minute. Could you tell him to wait?"

Her friend squeezed her shoulder as a bid for comfort. "No problem."

Once she was left on her own, she felt herself start to panic. After five years, she really wasn't expecting to see Harry ever again. It crossed her mind from time to time, of course it did. She thought maybe if she strayed too far South, she'd see him. But not here. Not in her home, intentionally seeking her out.

She sucked in a deep breath, summoning some calmness before going out to meet him. First she'll see what she wants. Then she'll panic.

She spotted him immediately, sitting on one of the lounge sofas they've set up for visitors. He's exactly as she remembered, slim, tall, confident. He's sitting there as if he owned the place.

Once upon a time, she found it an intriguing quality. She thought she wanted a man who knew himself and what he wanted, and had mistaken that arrogance for confidence.

He stood up as soon as he saw her approach, looking her over from top to bottom. "Sansa. You look beautiful as ever."

First time seeing her in five years and that's the first thing he thought to say. She almost rolled her eyes. Typical.

That she was pretty was the only reason he ever paid attention to her, that had been clear to her from the start. He liked that boys would look at him in envy, walking around campus with her in his arms.

She wondered if he expected her to be different now; maybe he'd assumed she'd be a mess all these years without him. Maybe he even came here with the thought of saving her, he's definitely the type to find pleasure in acting the hero.

"What are you doing here, Harry?" She asked, cold as the North itself.

He grabbed a bouquet of roses from the table that she hadn't noticed before and offered it to her. "These are for you."

"No. I'm not doing this with you," she said with a shake of her head. "If you're not going to answer me then leave."

"You're mad at me, I get it, but - "

"I'm not mad at you," she cut him off, meaning the words more than she thought she would. "I don't care about you at all. I just want to know what you're doing here."

"I wanted to see you," he said, catching her eyes to prove his sincerity. "I want to make up for all my mistakes."

"She scoffed. The words were eerily familiar. He's probably said those exact words to her; he's begged for her forgiveness too many times, has made so many promises that he inevitably broke. At some point she just got immunned to all the bullshit and it doesn't work on her now.

"I know you have no reason to believe me, Sansa, but I've changed," he told her, reaching for her hand. "I did it for you. I got my shit together because I knew that was the only way you were gonna take me back."

The laugh came unbidden as she took her hand away from his reach. "Take you back? You've gotta be kidding me. If that's what you're here for then go home, Harry. There's nothing here for you."

"I'm also here for my son," he answered quickly, which made her freeze on the spot.

She wanted to puke. How often did she worry about that very thing? About Ned meeting him? How many nights did she spend wondering what to say to her son once he was older and started asking questions about the blood that ran through his veins.

"Your son," she repeated numbly, turning to Harry with steel in her eyes. "You mean the son you lived with for over a year yet not once held in your arms? The son you never gave a second thought to before leaving for a night out with some girl? The son you didn't even care about for six years until now." She shook her head. "You're not his father, Harry. You're just a sperm."

She's surprised to see that her words stung him, though before he could say anything, the door of the conference room opened and some of her workmates started to pile out.

She froze, remembering where she was. People kept throwing her looks, some even whispering to each other, intrigued by the scene before them. Sansa and a man who wasn't Jon.

It takes a few minutes before the area cleared again but she really didn't have any more to say to Harry. She just wanted him to leave and never show his face to her again.

Turns out she didn't have to say anything more. With an expression she'd never seen on his face, he took out his wallet and pulled out a business card.

"I'm sorry for springing up on you like this. I didn't know what other options I had," he apologized, handing her the card. "Please give me a chance to prove myself, Sansa. Or at least consider it for Ned. I'll just be here if you ever decide to call."

Then he left, leaving the bouquet of roses, the card, and Sansa, standing there in confusion.

She could've laughed if she wasn't so pissed. That last bit was a good touch, she'd give him that. That was what he used to do, used her son to manipulate her. They both knew the only reason she stayed with him for as long as she did was because she didn't want Ned to grow up without a father.

Harry used it to his advantage, knowing that she wouldn't leave no matter how many times he cheated on her. She did endure it for a time, and then one day she got a knock on her door. It was a girl, maybe a year or two younger than herself, and she had a bump on her stomach that she knew could only be Harry's, even before the girl spoke to confirm it.

It was very easy leaving then. Because what good was a father to her son if he didn't even care about being one.

She took whatever she could, what little money she saved up working part-time at the bakery near their apartment, and she went straight home.

And that's what she does now. After finishing whatever work she had left, she wnet home straight to the arms of the man she loved.

Chapter Text

Sansa chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully as she stared at the phone in front of her, glaring at Harry’s name on her list of contacts. In the five years since leaving the guy in Eyrie, she never thought she’d have to deal with him coming back into her life.

The thought played in her mind, to be sure. But mostly she wondered how she’d react if it did happen. Would she shun him? Curse at him? Tell him all the terrible things she’d wanted to say to him all those years ago? Forgive him? Let him back into her life for Ned’s sake?

She never could decide.

Though if she’s honest, it was mostly because she was never convinced it was a real possibility. Not with the Harry she remembered. But then he appeared and, like she always hoped, he owned up to his mistakes and asked for her forgiveness.

It turned out that forgiveness was easy enough to grant. Maybe it was because of all the time that had passed, maybe she’d matured – or maybe it was because she couldn’t find it in herself to be bitter about how things turned out. 

It wasn’t as if Sansa loved him in the first place. If she hadn’t gotten pregnant, she doubted she would have stayed with Harry for so long. But, gods, did he make her miserable when they were together; made her feel insecure and a little bit out of her mind. He made her cry more times than she thought possible and made her so angry most days that she couldn’t recognize who she became when she was with him.

She left, though, didn't she? Packed up her bags, took Ned, and never looked back. And it brought her peace, forgiveness from her family, and, most of all, it brought her Jon. When she looks back on it now, she’d probably go through all of it again if it meant she’d end up right where she is. Because how else could she be happy if not with Jon? Jon who stood by her side through it all, who tempered down her anxieties, and brought her comfort even on her worst days. Jon who she loves so much she thinks her heart could burst.

Then there’s her son who loves him nearly as much; who hangs onto his every word like it’s bible, who would skip play dates with friends in favor of getting to hang out with him, who would come up to anyone who would listen just to gush about the coolest person he knows. 

So, yeah, she’d endure those loveless few years with Harry every single time if it meant her and her son’s happiness later down the line.

She glanced down at her phone again. And it’s this part she hates because Harry could’ve just stayed where he belonged. Buried in her mind where he couldn’t disturb the peace she’d built over the last five years.

She took a deep breath and tapped the call button before she could change her mind. It takes about four rings before Harry picks up.

"Hello?"

Sansa shut her eyes, fighting the urge to hang up.  "Harry?" 

It took a second. And then, "Oh, hey. Sansa? I'm glad you called. Did you, uh – what's up?"

She sucked in a deep breath. "Are you still in Winterfell?"

It’s been nearly a full week since he came by the office. Part of her struggled to decide what to do during the last few days, the other part was waiting for him to leave.

"Yeah, I am."

"I need to meet with you," she told him, dreading every word of it.

"Of course, yeah,” He says eagerly. “How about Saturday? What kind of stuff does Ned like? Does he like cars and stuff? Maybe I could bring him a gift."

She's already shaking her head before he even finishes the sentence. "No, no. We're not doing that. You're not meeting him. Not until I'm sure you're not bullshitting me."

"I - Sansa. I’m not. I promise I -"

"No more promises, Harry. I’ve heard enough of those. Thursday night," she cut off. If she has to do this, it’s going to be on her terms. "We can meet after work. I'll text you where."

She hung up before he could say more and threw her phone back on the counter. She dropped her head against the marble top, trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing.

 She’s not sure how long she stayed like that, only moving when she heard the door unlock.

She turned her attention to the door and watched Jon greet Ghost as he hung his stuff by the door. “Hey, long night?” He asked when he turned his attention to her. He glanced to her side where a tall glass of wine sat unfinished. “Everything okay?”

All she could do was shake her head before he was in her space, his arms coming around her. She let out a sigh of relief, her own arms locking around him as she buried her face against his chest.

“I did it. I called him,” she told him.

He stiffened a little, then he started rubbing her back for comfort. “When?”

“Just a while ago. I’m doing it like you said. I’ll meet with him first and see for myself what he wants out of this.” 

She felt him press a kiss to her temple. “You did good.”

“Did I?” She asked, looking up finally. “Then why do I feel like I’m setting my son up for disappointment?”

She remembered what Jon had told her about his dad; about meeting him for the first time after fantasizing over the man for years. It had been good at the start, had been a dream come true for him, then the visits became rare until his dad just faded into upsetting memories. 

“You’re not. You haven’t decided anything yet,” he reminded her. “If at any point you think this is all a bad idea, then you don’t have to go through with it.”

“You’re right. I just…” she shook her head, slightly frustrated. "I was hoping he'd be out of Winterfell by now.”

She takes a deep breath and all her senses go into overdrive, so engulfed by Jon. Her anxious mind quickly started to relax with him so close and she leaned into it, letting her worries slip away to the back of her mind. 

“When are you meeting him?”

“Thursday after work.”

He nodded. “Alright. That’s still a few days away so that’s enough of this now, okay?” He pushed the stray hairs away from her face. “Tomorrow’s a weekend, so how about we set all this aside for the time being? You’ll have plenty of time to worry some other days, let’s go do something fun instead.”

She bit her lip with a smile. “I’d like that.”

He returned her smile with one of his own, a soft upturn of his lips that sent a wave of calm within her.

“Have you eaten?” she asked. “I’ve got some pasta for you in the microwave.”

“Nice. Thanks.” He pulled away, going towards the microwave. She watched him inspect it, then turn the dials to heat the food. “What time did Ned get to bed?”

“A few hours ago. He got an A on that art project you guys did, by the way. He wanted to wait for you and tell you himself but he was too sleepy. I told him he could tell you tomorrow so you have to pretend to be surprised.”

He chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”

“How was work? You’re home later than usual.”

He blew out a breath, wrinkling his nose. “Yeah. It was exhausting. We have so many new clients coming in I can barely keep up.”

She stayed with him while he ate dinner, the two of them talking about how each other’s day went. Usually, they’d stay up longer to watch new episodes of their favorite shows. But It's a weekend; Ned’s an early riser and always a bundle of energy, so they have to get as much sleep as they can before he wakes. 

After many restless hours of overthinking, Sansa was the first to wake up the following morning. While her boys were still asleep, she decided to start on breakfast and get things ready for their usual errands. 

Sometime around nine, Ned comes out of his room in his direwolf pajamas. “Good morning, Mommy,” he greeted loudly, happily, running to her for a hug.

“Good morning, baby,” she greeted just as happily, picking him up from the ground so she could hug him properly. 

Sansa pressed a kiss to his cheek, laughing as Ned returned it with a few of his own. She set him down after a few more kisses to his face; he was growing so fast she could barely carry him anymore. And he’s getting to the age where he sometimes feels embarrassed when she does. It made her feel sentimental sometimes, the thought of how time could just sneak up on you like that. 

“I’m gonna go wake Jon and Ghost,” he announced once he was back on the ground.

He's already running towards Jon’s bedroom before she can even tell him to slow down. 

“Jon, wake up. Rising shine ,” she heard him shout, making her snort. “It’s Saturday, Jon. You need to get up or we’ll miss Grumkins and Snarks on TV.”

Jon said something in reply but she was too far away and his voice was too low to hear it. After a few more minutes, the two come out of Jon’s room with Ned hanging on the back of a sleepy Jon. Her gaze dropped to his pajamas, noticed the matching direwolf fit with Ned they got from her mom, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“You boys didn’t tell me we had a dress code,” she teased, handing him his coffee after helping Ned back on the ground.

He gave her a wry smile, taking a sip from his cup. He sat on the stool by the counter while Ned turned on the TV and started flicking the remote to find their channel.  “Rising shine, San.”

That made her laugh a bit more. “Don’t. You have to tell him the right one or he’ll keep using that.”

“It’s cute, though,” he said with a chuckle. “Do you need help with anything?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m almost done. Go and watch with him, I’ll follow in a sec.”

She finished up with her food prep and carried the plate of sandwiches to the couch where Jon and Ned were already glued to the TV. 

It’s her favorite way to start her Saturdays; with Ned on Jon’s lap and Ghost on hers, their feet up on the coffee table as they ate breakfast and watched the ridiculous monster show her son loved so much.

Their afternoon is not as entertaining since it’s reserved for running errands; With both her and Jon working regular hours on weekdays, it’s the only time they have to do them. Their goal at present is to buy groceries and to get new clothes for Ned. 

They decided to head to the department store first since Ned’s at the age where he has a lot of opinions about his clothes, meaning it’ll take longer than doing groceries. 

They were at the kid’s clothes section when her worst nightmare happened; she saw Harry pushing a cart filled with toys and clothes. He was distracted enough as he perused the aisles to not notice her at first. Then he stopped walking when he saw her, his gaze immediately searching the area for something else. She can’t see behind her but she knew from the look on his eyes when he found Ned.

She’s a short distance away from her son, having left him with Jon as they debated on which shirts looked better so she could pick out some pajamas. She froze when she realized Harry wanted to approach her. This is not the time , her mind screamed. She hasn’t even decided if she wanted Ned to meet him yet.  She held her breath, shaking her head slightly to stop him. It made him halt in his steps. With another glance at Ned, he raises his hand as if in surrender and walks away.

Before she could see him fully disappear from a distance, her attention was taken by her son who loudly called for her attention. “Mommy, do you think they’d have this in Jon’s size?” Ned asks, holding up an atrociously bright neon shirt with a meowing cat on it.

Thoughts of Harry were immediately forgotten when she turned her attention to her boys. She glanced between Ned who was holding the shirt, and Jon who was walking right behind him as he chuckled. 

“Ned, I told you, there’s no way I’m wearing that thing no matter the size."

Ned giggled, turning back to Jon. “But we’ll wear it together. Come on, Jon, we can put it on when we go to the park.”

She grinned at them both, amused by the mischievous glint in her son’s eyes. “You know you can’t make Jon wear something like that, baby,” she says with a light, slightly teasing tone. “Remember he’s allergic to clothes that aren’t black.”

Jon huffed. “I sometimes wear blue.”

At that, Ned piped in again. “How about if we get the blue one then?”

Both Jon and Sansa laughed. Then Jon ruffled Ned’s curls. “Buddy, we’re not buying for me. Come on, let’s pick out something for you.” 

"Yeah, baby. Go with Jon and choose something you like. Don’t take too long or we won’t have time for you to play at the park like you wanted.”

“Oh, alright,” he chirped before jumping onto Jon’s leg, playfully clinging to him as they walked back to the aisle they were on. “If I ask Grandma and she makes one for us then you’re gonna have to wear it, Jon. You don’t want her to be disappointed, do you?”

“How about if there’s no cat on it?” She hears Jon bargain. “I just don’t want Ghost feeling all jealous if there’s a cat on my shirt.”

Ned gasped and she couldn’t help but smile at the mischievous tone of his voice. “I have a great idea. What if we just put Ghost on the shirt then.”

•••

Thursday came much quicker than Sansa would've liked. Before she knew it, she was sitting at a table at Wylan’s opposite her ex to talk about the possibility of allowing him back into her - and her son’s - life. 

Now that she was prepared to meet Harry, she took the time to study him. He looked the same as she remembered, if not a bit older. Mature. He carried himself differently, too; not as confident and airy as he used to and more subdued.

“First things first,” he began before she could say anything. “Look, I’m not here to cause any trouble, okay? I’m not here to take Ned away or anything like that. I just want to be a part of his life. As much as you’d let me, anyway.”

“Okay,” she replied somewhat dubiously. “Why? Why now?”

He blew out a breath. “Because I never should’ve let either of you go in the first place. I should’ve run after you that day. I should’ve realized what an ass I’ve been. I should’ve –” He cut himself off, running a hand through his blond hair. “But I knew you. And I knew I needed to get my shit together before I could even think about facing you again.”

She’s unsure what to make of it – of his proclamation, of him being here, of everything. The cynic in her wants to call bullshit on all of this. To dismiss all of it as yet another game for him, a new challenge where he could proclaim himself victor yet again.  That’s the Harry she remembered; the Harry who asked her out because his friends didn’t think he had a shot. The Harry who kept pursuing her even after she turned him down several times.

She remembers tricking herself into being swooned by the thought that someone liked her enough to be so determined, so patient, in courting her. Only for her to later realize that it had less to do with her and more to do with his pride. And she stayed with him for long enough to realize that that’s how he was with everything in his life. He saw it all as one big game, as if he was in a jousting competition with life itself, and he was determined to win on every field. 

She’s afraid that that’s all this is; that he just wanted to prove to himself that he can win her trust back, that he can earn her son’s love, and fuck her over in the end like he’d done a million other times before. But Sansa also believes that people are capable of changing for the better. And there's a part of her that wants to believe that Harry has changed. 

She's not the same girl she was five years ago, was she? She's learned from her mistakes and grew from it. So maybe Harry has, too.

"Can I ask you a question?" He spoke up after a short bout of silence between them.

"Go ahead."

"Who's the guy?" He asked, his voice light and just a bit curious. 

She knows he’s asking about Jon. Harry had seen him that day at the department store. And according to Jon, he'd spotted Harry around town a few times since. 

When Harry realized he wasn't getting any answers from her, he clarified, "I'm not trying to pry. I guess I was just curious. When I saw you all back then, I noticed that Ned seemed to like him."

"His name is Jon," she finally answered, just so they could get this over with. "And yeah, Ned likes him. What about it?"

Harry takes his time answering. “So he’s your… boyfriend?”

“Is that really what you came here to talk about?”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s just that... him and Ned, they’re pretty close, huh?”

“They are,” Sansa agreed. She’s not sure what he’s angling for but she didn’t really care. 

“Oh.”

She tried not to roll her eyes as she leaned back in her chair. “That’s really what you want to talk about? Not about how your son has been in the last five years? About what he likes? What he doesn’t like?”

 “I do want to know all that. I’m just surprised, is all. Maybe I was being naive but I didn’t think I’d have to compete for my son’s love,” he admitted, this sudden determination on his face. “And I’ll apologize now… because if you give me a chance with Ned, I’d very much like to take his spot in my son’s life.”

The laugh came unbidden, surprised more than anything. She wasn’t expecting him to say any of that. And as much as she didn’t want to fuel this hopeless endeavor of his, she knew for a fact that this was one competition Harry couldn’t win. So she had to say, “Well, if the time comes then you can certainly try, Harry. But I’ll tell you now, you’re gonna have to settle for less. Jon is Ned’s favorite person in the world and there’s nothing you can do to change that no matter how hard you try.”

Chapter Text

Over the next month, Sansa spoke to everyone she could for advice. She talked with her parents, Robb, Arya, and Gilly. She even spoke to Theon, whose familial ties were just as, if not more, complicated growing up.

Personally, she’s made up her mind about it. Regardless of how many times she’s met with Harry, she just can’t convince herself that allowing him into Ned’s life would be a good decision. The more she’d spoken to him, the clearer it became that he’d remained largely the same guy she remembered.

He’s changed in some ways, sure, but not as much as he thinks he did. 

Sansa had learned that up until a few months ago, Harry had been co-parenting his other son – the one she discovered before she left the Eyrie. He shared that his ex, Saffron, had met a guy from Barrowton and left with their kid. He insists that he remains in contact with his son and that they're still pretty close, but he also admitted that it wasn't the same as before. It was apparently because of the situation that he realized he wanted to be a part of Ned’s life.

If Sansa had to guess, she’d say it’s because his ego couldn’t handle Saffron leaving. That’s the second time he’s been left behind; it must sting for someone like him who’s convinced the world revolves around him.

She’s tempted to track down the girl herself to verify Harry’s side of things. Then again, she’s not sure it will really change her opinion. She doesn’t want Harry in her or her son’s life and that’s that. However, despite her conviction, she owed it to her son to be a hundred percent sure. She doesn’t want her decision now to be something that affects him negatively years down the line.

So, she asked everyone whose opinions were important to her. They all had different perspectives on the matter; even her parents couldn't agree on what to do. Her mother thinks it's a bad idea to complicate Ned's life by introducing Harry into it. On the other hand, her dad believes Ned has the right to meet him.

When she spoke to Sam and Gilly about it, they both were of the opinion that it was better to keep Karry away. She knows they said it more as a reflection of their own experience. She's known them long enough to have heard about the story of Sam Jr.'s biological father. If Sansa was in their shoes, she wouldn't want the man in her son's life, either. However, her situation's different enough that she can't just block Harry off entirely like they suggested.

Her siblings, as she should have expected, were no help at all. Both Robb and Arya were in agreement that they would beat up Harry if they ever saw him. Suffice it to say, they didn't like the idea of bringing Harry into her son's life, and therefore all of their lives by extension.

Theon, to her surprise, offered her useful insight. "I think you should do it, let the guy meet the kid."

"You think so?"

Theon shrugged. “How long’s it been since he came here? A month? Two? If my father cared about me enough, if he made just a tiny bit of effort like your guy is doing, maybe things would’ve been different for me.”

“But what if he doesn’t stick around? What if another month goes by and he just decides that he’s bored of it? I know him well enough to consider the possibility.”

“Then at least you’ll know for sure, right? You won’t have to wonder what his game is, you won’t have to wonder about the ‘what ifs’. You’ll know for sure that he’s not worth your time and save your son a whole lot of daddy issues later down the line.” He grabbed the glass of whiskey on the table and downed it. “I sure as heck would’ve loved it if my dad told me early on that he didn’t want me. It would’ve saved me a lot of time trying to get his attention, trying to make myself worthy of him – heck, I wouldn’t have had to spend my entire childhood trying to mold myself into who I thought he’d want me to be.”

“And if it hurts Ned in the process?”

Theon smirked. “Want to know something? I don't think that's gonna happen. I think you’re overthinking all this.”

She scowls. “You think I’m overthinking my son’s well-being?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t be mad, Stark. I’m not saying you’re wrong to overthink it. I know it must not be easy. But I also think you shouldn’t worry too much about it.”

“Yeah? How do you figure?”

“Because unlike me, unlike even Jon, your kid’s not really dying for a father figure. Wanna know why?” He waited for her to answer for a second, then proceeded to talk when she merely shrugged. “He already has one. Maybe not by name, maybe not by blood, but Jon’s pretty much his dad, isn’t he? Now what can that dickface ex of yours give your kid that Jon doesn’t already provide? I say let them meet. Let the guy pamper your kid, get him all the latest toys, and bring him to all the cool places. Whatever. That's free entertainment for the kid that you don't even have to pay for. If he leaves then so what? At least Ned gets a bit of fun out of it.”

Theon gave her a lot to think about. Or at least a new perspective to consider. She spent that night stuck in her thoughts which led her to the kitchen in a bid to bake her stress away. 

It was sometime around three in the morning when Jon stumbled out of his room sleepily, no doubt woken by the noise she'd been making around the kitchen. 

He's bleary-eyed and clad only in his boxers, yawning as he takes a seat on the counter stool. He glanced between her and the baking pans set along the counter, and that's all it really took for him to understand what was going on. Baking has always been her go-to task to distract her troubled mind and it wouldn't be the first time he woke up in the middle of the night to find her doing just that.

"You’ve changed your mind, haven’t you?” He asked, reading her all too well.

“No. But I can’t help feeling guilty,” she admitted. “I can’t help but think that I’m so resistant to the idea of letting Harry meet Ned for myself. The truth is I just don’t want him back in my life, I don’t want to have to deal with him any more than I've had to.”

Jon nodded slowly. “Okay… so, that’s it, then. That’s your answer. Just tell him to fuck off. ”

It would be so easy, too. She’s tempted to do it, but part of her doesn’t think it’s the right call. Gods, it’s all so confusing to her. 

“It’s not that simple, though?” 

“None of this is simple. But I know you’re doing your best for Ned,” Jon reminded her, moving closer to her. “It’s a complicated situation and you’re the only one here who really knows Harry well enough to judge if he deserves a second chance or not.”

Sansa chewed on her lip, thoughtful. “And the thing is, I’ve seen this side of Harry before. I mean… he keeps saying he’s changed but his promises feel as empty as all the others he’s made in the past.” She rolled her eyes, thinking back to all those pretty words he’d said to her. “He’s good at that. Making promises he doesn’t intend to keep.”

Jon was silent for a while, tilting his head curiously as he studied her. “Do you wish he had? Kept his promises, I mean?”

“It definitely would have been simpler if he had.“ She thought about it for a moment. “But, no. I don’t think I’d be as happy as I am now.”

“You’re happy?”

She turned to him and caught the hopeful expression on his face, and it made her smile. "Of course I am, you dork," she answered without hesitation. “But it’s not really about my happiness.” She shook her head, dropping the towel she’d been using to clean up the counter. “How do I live with myself if I deny my son the chance to learn more about himself? He may not care now, he may not even understand who Harry is supposed to be in his life, but he’ll grow up. Someday he’s gonna start asking questions, he’s gonna start wanting to piece things together. If someday he asks me about it, what do I say to him? That I thought he was better off without Harry in his life? That Harry came here wanting to get to know him but I refused? Or do I lie and tell him his biological father didn’t care enough about him to show up?”

Jon gave her a sad smile, opening his arms for her. “C’mere.” She didn’t even take a moment to think about it, she burrowed her head into the crook of his neck as he enveloped her in a warm embrace.

“What do I do, Jon?” she whispered, her quiet fears seeping into every word. 

“Sounds to me like you already know,” he replied into her hair before pressing a kiss there. "I know you’re scared but everything will turn out okay eventually."

"You can’t possibly know that," she told him.

"Sure. But it's still true. You know why?" He leaned back, giving her a knowing smile. "Because you're strong and brave and Ned will have you by his side no matter what."

"And you. He'll have you, too."

"Of course he will. You both do," he assured, pressing a final kiss to her forehead before letting her go. "Now, go on and try to sleep, yeah? I'll finish up here."

"No, it's okay. I still have something in the oven."

"San, I know the drill. I can do it. You need to rest."

They stared at each other for a moment, a quiet battle of sorts. Then, with a sigh, she relented, knowing full well he wouldn’t take no for an answer on this. "Alright. Fine. I'll just go and check on Ned first."

She headed to Ned's room, hoping to calm her nerves somewhat. She sat gently on the edge of his bed and watched him sleep for a while. It still sometimes surprised her how quickly time has passed and how much he's grown. She could still remember him as a babe, tiny and bundled up in his green baby blanket. Now he was six, with preferences and opinions of his own.

She leaned down to press a kiss to his temple, then whispered, "Stay at this age for a while longer, huh, babe?"

Ned shifted in his sleep, eyes blinking open slowly. She made a face, cursing at herself for waking him. She hadn’t been as quiet as she thought. "Hey, baby. Go back to sleep, I'm sorry for waking you."

"It's okay." He told her, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Why do you look sad?”

She shook her head. "I'm not. I just missed you, that’s all."

"I missed you, too," he replied, shifting to the corner of his bed for her. 

She lied down, pulling him into her arms. She dropped a kiss on top of his head and started humming to try and lull him back to sleep.

It doesn't work. After a while, he spoke up. "Is there something wrong?"

She stopped in the middle of her song and turned to him. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Recently, you and Jon just always look so... sad?" His brows creased in thought as if he was trying to find the right words. "...afraid?"

"We're not. It's just -- " 

He glanced up at her, his sleepy gaze widening with fear. “You’re not getting the - the,” he frowned, unable to find the right words. He tried to think for a few seconds, then huffed out in frustration. “- that thing that Gavin’s parents had. Are you?”

It’s her turn to frown, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You know, the thing… The reason why Gavin never sees his dad anymore.”

“Divorce?” She asked in surprise.

“Yeah, that’s it,” his face lit up for a second, finally finding the word. Then his expression turned nervous. “You and Jon are not getting that, are you?”

She couldn’t help but smile a little. “No, we’re not.”

“You promise? Because I don’t think you should,” he told her imploringly. By the expression on his face, the same one he would pull when he’s about to try and convince them of something, she can tell that this is something he’s been thinking about. “You know, Gavin cries at school a lot because he misses his dad. And he’s been so angry, too. He fights with me a lot even when I just want to make him feel better. I don’t want to feel like that. Or to be away from either you or Jon.”

“Don’t worry, baby, it won’t happen,” She assured, rubbing his back gently. She brushed the curls away from his forehead before planting a kiss there. “Both Jon and I will be here for you no matter what.”

He lifted his pinky finger, urging her to make the promise. She does it, interlocking her pinky with his as an oath. “Now go back to sleep, okay? You have school tomorrow so you need to rest up.”

“Will you stay?”

“Sure, baby. Now close your eyes.”

When she woke up in the morning, Ned was nowhere to be found in his room. She does hear the muffled sound of the television outside which clued her in on where he could be. She grabbed her phone from Ned’s bedside to check the time.

It’s only 5 in the morning which is probably why her alarm hasn’t gone off yet. She stretched before rising and tiptoed into her room when she realized Jon was already awake with Ned. She took the time to shower and get ready for work, coming out half an hour later mostly ready. 

She found her boys in the kitchen; with Ned sitting on the kitchen counter as he cracked eggs while Jon heated up a pan. “Good morning, Mommy,” Ned greeted with a bright smile. “Jon and I are making an omelet for breakfast.”

“I can see that,” she replied with a smile, walking over to him so she could pepper kisses on his face. “When did you get so good at cooking, huh?”

“Jon’s been teaching me.” He beamed. “Tomorrow we’re making french toast the way I saw it on YouTube. Do you like french toast?”

“I love french toast,” she replied enthusiastically. “Will you make some for mommy, too?”

He nodded eagerly. “Of course, we’ll make you the bestest one.”

She pressed another kiss atop his forehead before turning to Jon who handed her a warm cup of coffee. “You need to prep for work,” she reminded him. His office hours started earlier than hers which is why she’s usually in charge of breakfast nowadays. “Want me to take over?”

He glanced at the clock they had hanging by the kitchen as he yawned. 5:49. This should leave him about an hour and ten before he needed to be at work. 

“I got time, don’t worry,” he said as he handed Ned a small whisk. “Here bud, whisk it the way I told you. Careful, okay?”

She watched them in silence for a while, her mind drifting to the conversation he had with both of them last night. In all this time that she’s been stressing over Harry, she realized that there’s one more important person she still hasn’t asked.

She glanced at Jon who met her eyes instantly. She doesn’t have to say anything to know he can already tell what she’s thinking. He gave her an encouraging nod before turning to Ned. “That’s a good job, bud. It’s all done now, you did great. Let me take over and cook it now, okay?” he said, taking the bowl off the counter. 

Sansa took a deep breath. “Hey, Ned? Can I talk to you about something?”

Ned twisted on the counter to turn to her, then he glanced between her and Jon. “You’re not going to take back what you said last night, are you? You promised,” he said, almost accusingly. Then he turned to Jon again. “You too, Jon. And you said it’s bad to break a promise.”

Jon chuckled. “I did say that and I did promise,” Jon agreed, ruffling his hair. “But it’s not about that, okay? Just listen to your mom so you know what it is first.”

Slowly, he turned his attention back to Sansa. She could tell that he was nervous, which made her even more so. But she already started this and there’s no way out but through. 

"Do you remember what I told you? About how you were born?"

He nodded. "Someone planted me in your tummy. Then I was there for months and months and months. And then I came out." 

It was a conversation they had after Ned overheard a couple of older boys theorizing about how babies were made, only to come home and ask her the same thing. It was a bizarre experience, trying to explain the whole thing to her then 5-year-old. She’d explained it as simply as she could, using words that could help him understand the process in general. It went well enough, except he then asked if that’s what she and Jon did to make him, which spurred her to explain that she got him a little differently than how others got their babies. 

“You remember,” she said with a slight smile.

“Yeah, I do,” he agreed with an eager smile, always happy to please. Then his eyes widened. "Why? Do you have someone else in your tummy? Like Aunt Talisa? Am I getting a little sister?”

She laughed in surprise. "No, baby, you’re not."

“Oh,” he said, brows arching down in disappointment. “Well, can I have one?”

She glanced at Jon who was trying to hold back his laughter. She’s tempted to throw an eggshell at him for being way too amused by this. “Well, baby, I don’t know. It’s not really that easy. And that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about either.”

“What then?”

"Well, that person who planted you in my tummy... His name is Harry. He, uh, he wants to meet you. You know, see how you are and get to know you. Do you think you want to meet him?"

He’s quiet for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. It almost made her smile how his mouth formed the same pouty expression Jon always has when he’s thinking seriously. She’s convinced he’ll say that he’s not interested, maybe even a little hopeful that he would because that would be the end of all this chaos. If he says no, then that’ll be the same answer she gives Harry.

Unfortunately, after a moment, he said, “Okay.”

“Okay?” She asked, hoping he’d provide a more concrete answer. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, baby.”

“No, I do,” he said decisively. “We should thank him, don’t you think?”

There’s a lot she still wants to say to Harry but a thank you is probably last on the list. “Thank him?” she asked carefully, trying for a smile. “What are you thankful for?”

He gives her a look, a mixture of surprise and disbelief that she doesn’t already know the answer. “For putting me in your tummy,” he finally explained. “If he didn’t then I wouldn’t be here with you, and Jon, and Ghost, and Grandma and Grandpa, and Aunt Arya, and Uncle Rickon, and Uncle Ro -”

“Alright, buddy, we get it,” Jon cut him off with a laugh then ruffled his hair. “No need to list everyone down. And you’re right. That is a lot to be grateful for, huh?”

***

There was something odd about having Harry in her apartment, looking around the place as if trying to find something he could recognize.  He arrived much earlier than planned so he was stuck waiting while Ned got dressed up in his room with Jon's help.

He didn't seem to mind; he walked toward the shelf to get a closer look at the pictures lined up on it. They're mostly pictures of Ned, with a few that have her and Jon in them, and a couple more with her entire family.

He turned around just as Ned walked out of his bedroom, with Jon trailing shortly behind. Sansa had to hold her breath as she watched the exchange, terrified out of her damn mind.  

She watched as her son approached Harry, a piece of folded paper in his hands. "Hello," he greeted, holding a hand out for Harry to shake. "I'm Ned. Nice to meet you."

Harry, pleasantly surprised, shook his offered hand with a smile. "Nice to meet you too, Ned. My name is Harry."

Ned nodded. "I made you a card," he said in reply, which is news to Sansa so he must've worked on it with Jon. Harry knelt on the floor to level himself with Ned, his smile charming as ever as he regarded the six-year-old. “Oh, really? Did you draw it yourself?.”

“I did,” Ned answered politely, nodding. “I wanted to give you something as a thank you.”

Harry accepted the gift and opened it; from where Sansa was standing, she could just make out the drawing on it. There’s a woman in her pajamas with messy orange hair, a scowling man with a mop of black hair, and a little boy between them. There’s even an outline of a dog on the side, which Sansa assumed was meant to be Ghost, camouflaged by the plain white paper.

“Thank me for what?” Harry asked, turning to Ned with his brows creased curiously. 

Ned pointed at the drawing. “For giving me my family. See? My mom said you planted me in her tummy so I wouldn’t be here if you planted me somewhere else or if you decided not to do it at all. So thank you. You did a good job with that.”

The look on Harry’s face was almost enough to make Sansa laugh had she not been so anxious since agreeing to this. 

Harry’s brows crease, struggling to respond to such an innocent explanation. “You’re welcome?”

Ned gave him a toothy grin, pleased. “Cool. You want to play sword fighting?”

Chapter Text

Harry’s visit went well enough, though that didn’t stop Sansa from counting by the seconds until it was over. He was polite, respectful, and attentive to Ned – which was a low bar, sure, but it was new for her to see. 

He only stayed for a couple of hours and played a few games with Ned for most of it, which meant she didn't have to interact with him that much.

 She and Jon served mostly as a buffer; their role was largely to steer the conversation elsewhere in case Harry got tempted to take a trip down memory lane. Thankfully, it doesn’t happen all that much. The few times that it did, Ned was too distracted to hear it.

As Ned and Harry played, Sansa couldn't help but try and compare them – try to see if there were any similarities there. She's relieved that they seem to be as different as night and day. Nothing more than strangers, really. It's a relief to her for many reasons. But the biggest one is because Ned is hers. And Jon's. And all the people that loved and nurtured him to be the sweet and caring boy that he is. Harry is but a small part of him, if at all.

“Thanks for letting me do this,” Harry told her before he left. “It really means a lot, Sansa.”

She nodded, no clue what to say to that.

“Can I… Can I see him again?”

“Call me in a week,” she said after a beat. As well as his visit turned out, she’s still not all that excited for a ‘next time’. “But it’s up to Ned if he wants to see you again.”

The moment he finally left felt like the first time she could breathe that day. She leaned behind the door after shutting it, letting out a long sigh. Part of her almost wanted for this whole thing to go terribly, if only so she could finally rid herself of Harry Hardyng. 

Though, ff nothing else, at least Ned seemed to have enjoyed himself.

Jon gave her an inquisitive look from the couch as if asking if she was okay, to which she responded with a reassuring smile. He nodded, accepting her silent assurance, and started helping Ned clean up the toys he had played with on his mat.

She walked towards them, quietly trying to get a read on her son. “So, Ned, what did you think of Harry?”

Ned shrugged distractedly. “He was okay.”

“Do you think you want to see him again?”

“Sure,” he answered easily. “But maybe next time let’s do it some other day.”

She didn’t think her son would have too strong of an opinion on when he’d meet Harry, so she didn’t bother to ask before setting it up on a Saturday. Plus, it seemed like the right day considering she didn’t know how the whole thing was going to turn out. If Harry somehow messed up or made her son feel bad, she figured having an extra day on Sunday would be a good idea to make things right.

She glanced at Jon, who looked just as clueless as to Ned’s request. “Okay… when would you want?”

Ned stopped what he was doing to think about her question. “Maybe Wednesdays?”

Sansa’s brows curved in curiosity, a hint of a smile on her lips as she wondered what was going through her son’s mind.

“What’s wrong with Saturday?” Jon was the one to finally ask, sounding just as curious as she was.

“Well, weekends are family days," Ned said, shrugging as he continued to pick up his toys from the playmat. He paused once more when he realized they were waiting for more explanation, then added: "Mondays are mom days. Tuesdays to Thursdays are for Grandma and Uncle Rickon - sometimes Grandpa, too. And Fridays are Jon days."

The explanation made Sansa smile. With her and Jon's work schedule, and Ned's classes, their household pretty much thrived on strict schedules. Mondays are the only times she can get off work early, so her mom drops him off at her office. Tuesdays to Thursdays are when he stays at her parents’ until either she or Jon is out of work. Fridays are usually when she has to do overtime work to meet deadlines, so that’s usually when Jon is the one to pick him up.

“So, why Wednesday then?”

 “Uncle Rickon has drama club stuff on Wednesdays,” he explained. “So we usually don’t get to play before you pick me up.”

It’s interesting to see how her son perceives their schedule and what it means to him. She and Jon made the conscious effort to make sure he’s always with his family, a decision that alleviated some of her guilt about not being there for him enough, so it’s somewhat assuring that he likes the set-up they do have.

“Well, baby, we probably can’t do it on Wednesdays,” she answered slowly. “It has to be a weekend so Jon and I can be there.”

He thought about that for a moment. “Sundays, then. But not too late, okay? I don’t want to miss my night toon time.” On school nights, they usually give Ned an hour before bedtime when he can do whatever he wants, but only if he finishes his tasks early in the day to leave enough time for it.

She grinned, glancing up at Jon who mirrored her amused expression.  “I’ll keep it in mind.“

Later that night Ned asks for the both of them to help him to bed. It’s his usual request on weekends since those are usually the only times when they’re both present for bedtime, so it’s kind of routine at this point. 

They all prep for the night, with Ned running after Jon because he likes copying his bedtime routine. It’s maybe half an hour later when they all meet back in Ned’s room, with her and Jon sitting on opposite sides of his bed.

“Alright. What story do you want for the night?” Jon asked, tucking Ned into his blanket.

“You have three choices,” Sansa added, thinking carefully. “A space adventure, a magic adventure, or…” she turned to Jon, hoping he'd supply the last idea.

“Or… an anamorphic adventure?”

She giggled at that, turning to Jon teasingly.  “Seriously?”

He’d just returned from a trip further up North where a lot of shapeshifting folklore was rooted on, so he probably had plenty of material.

“What’s ani… anim.. the thing you said?” Ned asked, brows curved.

“Anamorphic,” Jon repeated helpfully, waiting for Ned to parrot the word back to him before explaining further. “It’s like shapeshifting. You know, where people transform into animals.”

“Like warging?”

Jon nodded. “Yeah, kind of like that.”

“Okay. Hmm.” Ned’s frown deepened, considering his options carefully. *We should do magic. Or no, wait, space adventure. Like a dog coming to space with an astronaut. Or just the dog who turns into an astronaut. Or maybe… there’s magic on some strange planet and the dog is – OH! The dog has magic!” 

Both Jon and Sansa laughed in amusement. “All those sound like good ideas, bud, but which one do you like most?”

“I can’t decide,” Ned complained with a huff. “Oh, um… maybe…can I just hear the story of the Knight of the Laughing Tree again? I always love that story.”

Sansa glanced at Jon because he knew it better. He’d told her that it was a favorite of his, one that his mother used to tell him when he was just a boy. 

“Yeah, of course. I love that one, too,” Jon assured, looking pleased. He stretched dramatically, then looked at Ned. “Alright. Are you ready?”

Sansa shifted so she was lying next to Ned; this wasn’t a story she needed to participate in and if she was honest, she always loved how animated Jon got when he did his bedtime stories. Much like her son, she’s always been a sucker for old Westerosi tales.

Jon cleared his throat, summoning a dramatic expression on his face, then, “Once upon a time long ago, in the time of the kings and queens of old, a grand tourney was thrown in honor of the King’s tenth year of reign. This tourney was to be held in the great keep of Harrenhal. Upon the news, knights from close and far away set out to attend the magnificent event. All of them ready for the honor and glory of proclaiming themselves champion.”

Sansa couldn’t help but smile as she listened and watched him talk. His face was animated, his voice expressive, and his hands moving every which way to emphasize specific portions of it. Although, as much as she wanted to listen to the story itself, Sansa found her thoughts drifting from it - drifting to the man telling it. 

A strange yet familiar sensation washed over her; the kind that pooled at her stomach, a fluttering that spread all the way to her chest, up her throat, and down to her toes. That’s how it feels to be in love with someone, she’d come to learn. With all the fantasizing she did in her youth, with all the boys she fancied herself in love with, she always thought she knew what that felt like. Then Jon came into the picture and she realized she’d never truly felt the emotion until him. 

She remembered a conversation she had with her father long ago, one that they had as she cried over some boy who broke her heart in her youth. “One day, sweet one, when you’re older. You’ll find a man who’s worthy of you. Someone brave and gentle and strong. And you’ll know then what it feels to love and be loved.”

She can’t help but think that this was what her father meant all those years ago. Can’t help but think that this is how it must’ve felt when her parents were falling in love with each other. 

Except, it's nothing like that at all because Jon's not in love with her like that. He loves her, sure. He'd told her enough times to know that. But he's not in love with her. He loves her like he loves her siblings, like he loves Ned, because he's always been family.

Some days, though, she can't help but think maybe it's more than that. Her brothers and sister have insisted on it enough times that she let the thought play in her mind. But it always felt like such a dangerous thought, a costly desire. Because she could be wrong and she probably is. She's learned enough about herself to know that she often is wrong when it comes to love. 

So, like she often did, she tried to shove away the thought. And all her feelings for him along with it. She’d been doing it for years so she’s practically mastered the craft. But these days it’s getting harder and harder to do. These days all it took was one smile from him, one touch, one random moment – and all her feelings came flooding in.

It’s her mother’s fault, really. Ever since that conversation they had about marriage - about her and Jon getting married, actually - she’d been unable to get it out of her mind. That night at her parents’ house kept replaying in her mind. Her mother’s question, sounding as though the concept of her and Jon getting together is a matter of ‘when’ and not ‘if’’. The way Jon smiled when she told him about it. Him telling her that her father pretty much said the same thing to him. The revelation that her parents even offered to pass down her mother’s engagement ring. 

Mostly, though, she remembered the way Jon had kissed the back of her ring finger. I told him I have my grandmother’s ring that my mom left me and I’d prefer that in your hand , he’d proclaimed then. And she’d been wondering how true that statement was ever since.

She already knew he only said it as a joke; he likely only said so to get her father to stop asking. And he shared it with her because why wouldn’t he? They shared everything with each other. He likely didn’t think that it would have much of an effect on her because why should it? They’ve always just been friends. Except everything in her wants to be more than that. 

Her continued struggle with forcing down her feelings for Jon prompted her to call her sister for help. “I’m in love with Jon,” she said as soon as Arya picked up the call, not even bothering with the pleasantries.

Arya, and Sansa should have expected it, laughed. Then, because her sister is an asshole, she goes on to sarcastically say, “Oh my god, no way. That is such a wild revelation. Are you serious?”

“I can’t believe I thought calling you would be a good idea,” Sansa said with a roll of her eyes.

That makes her sister laugh more. “Seriously, San, what did you expect? I’ve been telling you this for years.”

Sansa frowned. “No, you haven’t. You’ve just been teasing and making allusions.”

“Okay, fair,” Arya granted. “But I figured you were in denial so I didn’t want to push. As a Stark myself, I knew your stubborn ass would force yourself to feel the opposite about Jon just to prove us wrong.”

She cracked a smile because she definitely would have. Not that it would’ve worked, though, because she can’t imagine not falling head over heels in love with Jon when he’s so kind, gentle, and strong. Just like the person her father predicted she’d fall in love with would be.

Not waiting for a reply, Arya continued. “Okay, so, now that the truth is out of the way, what exactly do you want me to do with this information?” Her sister asked, sounding curious. “Want me to pass along the message to Jon or something?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“So what then?”

“I honestly don’t know,” she admitted with a sigh. “I have no idea what to do. I’ve been trying to push away my feelings for him for so long that I thought I could keep doing it. But now I’m at a point where it’s so hard to ignore.”

“Then stop ignoring it. Just go tell your co-parent-slash-boyfriend-slash-husband friend that you’re in love with him and be done with it.”

“Are you kidding? I can’t just do that.”

Arya makes a sound, something in between a growl and a groan. “And why the hell not?”

“Oh, I don’t know? Because that’s insane? It’ll make things weird between us.” Sansa thought more about it. “He’ll probably feel bad that I caught feelings and even more so when he ultimately rejects me.”

Arya cackled. “Reject you? You mean Jon? The guy who hasn’t so much as looked at another woman in the last five years because of you?”

“What? That has nothing to do with me,” Sansa said in outrage. “He said he wasn’t looking for a relationship.”

“Yeah? And why do you think he isn’t?”

“Because he’s still hung up on Ygritte.”

Arya busts out laughing, then stops, a frown on her voice, “You’re joking, right?”

When she doesn’t say anything, her sister continues to say, sounding incredibly appalled, “Oh my gods, Sansa, you are the dumbest person I’ve ever met. Jon looks at you like you hung the fucking moon. His gloomy aura disappears every single time you enter a room and then he’s all rain clouds again the moment you leave. And yet this whole time you thought he was still  hung up on Ygritte?”

“Well… isn’t he?”

“Stranger take me,” Arya muttered. ”San, that boy is so in love with you it’s actually sad at this point.”

Sarcastically, Sansa said, “Oh, and he’s told you that himself, has he?”

Arya was quiet on the other line for long enough that Sansa thought they got disconnected. Then, out of nowhere, her sister cackled again. “So that’s why you called. You were fishing. You wanted me to tell you explicitly that Jon is, in fact, in love with you.”

“Maybe?” She half-admits.

“Well, tough luck, San, I can’t tell you that,” Arya said. “It took you five years to even admit it to me and you’re the dreamy romantic. Having a casual conversation with Jon without him just grunting and nodding the whole time is already an uphill battle, do you really think I could get him to fess up about his feelings for my sister?

“All I know is this,” Arya finishes with a sigh. “If this whole time I’ve been right about you being in love with him, then how wrong can I be about him being just as in love with you?”

Sansa has to admit that Arya’s got a point and she’s not even the only one who’s insinuated that her and Jon’s feelings are mutual. So, as her sister had insinuated, she allowed herself to be the dreamy romantic again. As the weeks flew by, she started to play with the idea of admitting to Jon that she was in love with him. 

Honestly, though, it’s not that easy or simple. How does a person even begin to talk about one’s five-year-long hidden feelings? Four and a half years if she wants to be concise but it doesn’t really make a difference; now that she’s considering it, it feels like she might’ve waited too long to even say anything. She should’ve said it before she rebuilt her life with Jon as her support system. If she had, then maybe an admission wouldn’t feel so frightening, so loaded, so risky.

Still, she tastes the words on the tip of her tongue one Friday night as she and Jon sit huddled on the couch. They’ve got the lights off, the TV playing some cheesy romcom they’ve been laughing at, and it’s all kind of insane, really, that they could be this close together and still not be together .

With his arms around her shoulder, her head on his chest, it seemed almost too obvious. Almost inevitable. Now all she would have to do is just lean a little to kiss him and she’s almost completely sure he’d kiss her right back. 

She felt herself slowly look up, her heart beating wildly in her chest, then Jon turned to her as if some invisible pull made him look right back, his gaze filled with so much warmth and affection, and suddenly it was not so scary to say the words.

Quietly, she began, “Jon, I need to – “

“Mommy?” A little voice cut through her words and she pulled away from Jon, her heart in her throat.

She turned behind to look at her son who had emerged from his bedroom. “Ned, you should be asle–” She heard the sniffles first, then he got close enough for her to see his tear-stricken eyes. More softly, she said, “Oh, baby, did you have a bad dream?”

He nodded and climbed onto her lap to bury his face against her. She started rubbing his back to soothe him, then brushed away his stray curls when he looked up at her.

In a small voice, he asked, “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Of course, babe.” He sniffled again, then turned to Jon. He reached out, latching onto Jon’s hand. 

“You too, Jon?”

Jon glanced at her and she knew they were thinking the same thing. Ned’s always been prone to nightmares, especially when something is bothering him. It didn’t come frequently but she knew it always scares him.  Usually, he’d come to whichever parent he thinks can provide the most comfort because he can never just brush it off. He always needs to work through it, to talk about it, so it won’t be as scary to him anymore. The fact that he’s asking for them both means this must be something really frightening for him.

“Sure, buddy,” Jon was the one to answer, leaning in to press a gentle kiss atop his head. “Come on, let’s get you to bed, huh?”

Ned twists so Jon can pick him up and the two of them head to her room. She shuts the TV and cleans up the coffee table before following them, with Ghost right behind her.  They’re settled on the bed by the time she comes in, Ned tucked in right in the middle of the mattress. 

“So, bud, you want to talk about it?” Jon was asking as she came in, brows creased in concern.

Ned sniffed then sighed. “I don’t know… It was so scary,” he began with a shaky voice. “What if I say it and it comes true?”

Sansa slid into her side of the bed. “Well, if you tell us then we can all make sure it doesn’t come true, right?”

“Yeah,” he agreed in a small voice. With a heavy breath, he began rehashing his nightmare. “In my dream, we were at the park. And it was fun and I was on the monkey bars. And then the monster came and it chased after us. But I couldn’t get to you guys fast enough and then everything disappeared. Like a black hole. Then I found a door and it transported me home. But you guys couldn’t see me. And the monster followed me there. I kept shouting and calling but you didn’t hear. And then the monster took Jon, then it was just mom left. I tried to protect you but it saw me and started chasing me instead. And I ran and ran and ran and then I woke up.”

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry you had a dream like that,“ she says, racking her brain for what to say. 

People like to say she’s great with words. A wordsmith of sorts. Hell, she’s made a career out of writing to compel an audience with her words. 

Yet she found herself constantly at a loss for it when it came to her son; it’s not that she doesn’t know what to say, more that she understands the weight it holds, and it’s often paralyzing to think she could say the wrong thing and have it affect him negatively without her realizing it. It’s in these moments that she’s extra grateful to have Jon by her side. He always says he’s not good with words, everyone else says the same, but he does when it comes to her and Ned. 

Just as she was thinking it, Jon spoke up. “I don’t think your dream will come true, Ned. You want to know why?” Ned’s brows curve, clearly disbelieving, but he nods anyway. “It’s because you forgot one important thing,” Jon smiles a little, then nods his head towards the foot of the bed where Ghost is sitting quietly. “Ghost will chase away any monsters before they can even get close.”

Ned fixed his gaze on the big albino direwolf who was quietly watching them all back. Her son seemed to be thinking about it, trying to decide whether he could believe it. “Just like he tries to chase away the rodents when we’re out on a walk?”

Jon laughed. “Yeah, just like that.”

Ned thought it over a bit more, then nodded. “You’re right. Ghost will protect us.”

“So, let’s go to sleep, baby,” Sansa finally says, leaning down to press a kiss between his brows. “I promise no monsters will come to take us away.”