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“Jon? Are you awake?” Her bare foot rubs along his calf.
He bites back his annoyed huff and tries to make up his mind between answering and pretending to sleep. But how can he sleep with her foot on him and her talking nonstop?
“I’m awake.”
She snuggles up against him and his grumbly frown is already becoming a smile. He can’t resist putting his arm around her, all while imploring his body to behave. She likes being held like this and he’ll admit he likes holding her, his sweet little wife.
She touches the hair on his chest where his tunic is open at the neck and he suppresses the desires that stirs. His fingers slip through the silk of her auburn hair as a distraction. If he’s honest, he loves this time of night best.
He’d told himself when Father had said he’d do his duty and marry her whether he liked it or not, he’d resist, run away or behave like some churl. But he hadn’t. From the moment he’d clapped eyes on her, he’d known he was not only going to do his duty and wed her but there was a very good chance he’d be falling in love with her.
“Are we going to do our duty tonight, husband?” she asks tremulously, her blue eyes wide. There might be a flicker of hope in them now whereas before there was only fear when she’d ask. But there is still more hesitation than anything. More curiosity than desire, too.
The candles are still burning, enough for him to see the blush blossoming across her cheek when he strokes it. He kisses her nose which makes her giggle. He loves hearing her giggles. He’d never thought to love the sound of a girl giggling until he’d met Sansa.
Her giggles end when he answers. “Not tonight, sweet wife.”
“Do you think you’ll ever…will you ever want to do your duty…with me?”
There are tears in her eyes and he hates that and hates his father all over again. He does want her but she is four and ten, a maiden and there is such a sweet innocence to her. She’s been sheltered at Winterfell and her dreams are those of a girl.
He is only three years older and a moon ago he had never had a girl lying in his bed or in his arms at night but he is considered a man grown. He doesn’t feel like a man grown even though he’s come to know the intrigues of court like the back of his hand. He hates it. He wonders if he can talk his father into sending them somewhere away from here.
“I will but…” He swallows his pride to make her feel better. “I’m very nervous about it and need a little more time if you don’t mind.” More time to get to know you better. More time to fall in love with you.
He’s already falling in love with her though. But, they were little more than strangers when they’d become man and wife in the sept a moon ago no matter if they’re cousins. And she has had to leave her home and family, adapt to life at court, marry and become a princess, all shy of her fifteenth name day.
She sighs and settles then, comforted by his reassurance. Soon, his sweet little wife is snoring softly beside him and he’s commanding his body to behave again as he seeks his own rest.
He knows what his duty is when it comes to his wife, knows what his father expects him to do but he won’t, not until she’s a little older. And not until she truly wants it.