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Her sixteenth name day will be here in two days but tonight felt right for them and that was what she had wanted. After their last few nights of exploring, they've both been more than eager to take this step.
This is why they had married, she tells herself, to make a little prince or princess, a future king or queen of Westeros. She's grateful he hadn't forced this when they were little more than strangers. She couldn't picture doing this with someone she barely knew or felt very little towards though she knows many highborn girls are forced to do so. She would've been the same had he been a different sort of man.
She's assured him that she's ready and wants this. She is ready. She does want it. But she cannot help her nerves. She cannot help the gasp that escapes either.
"Sansa?" he asks, his grey eyes tender and worried.
“It’s alright, I promise,” she murmurs and cards her fingers through his curls to ignore the fading pinch and sting.
He starts moving his hips and moving within her. He’s soon making the most indecent sounds but she can tell he likes it. She’s not entirely sure she does yet but it is their first time. There is something lovely about the way he's gazing at her. It makes her tummy tighten. There's this lovely building sensation too when his thrust is just so or his tongue teases one of her nipples.
She loves the silly smile he’s wearing now as his breath keeps getting shorter. She loves the way his eyes flutter closed and how he’s gripping her tightly. It’s almost like when they’re nestled close in bed at night and cuddling before sleep. Except now we could make a babe perhaps. Her heart fills up and tears of joy spill down her cheeks at the thought of being a mother, the mother of Jon’s child.
“Fuck,” he grunts suddenly and then his hips stutter to a halt.
She frowns at his foul language and he sees the tears and her frown and mistakes them.
“Oh, fuck,” he whines now, cupping her face so sweetly. “Sansa, I’m so…”
“No,” she laughs. “I am fine and you are fine and perhaps we’ll be parents someday.”
There’s a passing shadow and she knows he’s thinking of his father and how little he wants to please him. But he is their king and this is their duty though she has come to love her husband with all her heart. How could she not love the young man who waited fifteen long moons to bed his wife whilst knowing full well how it displeased his father and how the court whispered and made mock of him behind his back for it?
“When we make a babe, it will be ours, Jon. Our son or our daughter and no one else’s, yes?”
He smiles then and kisses her. “That’s right, my sweet wife. Our little babe and no one else’s, no matter what.”
It is a nice illusion. A prince’s children were never allowed to just belong to their parents though, were they? But he is hers and she is his and she loves him. That is all she will think on tonight as he holds her close until they fall asleep.
But first…
“Did you like it?” she whispers, her cheeks flushing at her boldness.
“Very much,” he whispers back. “I know you didn’t enjoy it like I did.” He looks ashamed and she cannot have that.
“I will soon, I know it. Perhaps we will try again very soon.”
He is the one who flushes now and she loves his silly grin. “How soon?”
His eyes shine wickedly and his voice is husky, making her quiver. He kisses her long and deep. Perhaps she will like it as much as he does before long.
The next morning the castellan enters with two maids while they break their fast at the table in their chambers where they prefer taking their meals. She holds Jon’s hand to keep him from acting and to settle her discomfort when she hears the maids whispering.
The castellan starts chuckling none-too-discreetly. Her cheeks flame but she whispers to her husband, to calm his wrath at this violation of their privacy and exposure of their intimacy. “Ours and no one else’s.”
He nods and his jaw unclenches. “Are you alright this morning, my love?” he asks solicitously.
“I’m very well. I thought perhaps we’d explore those caves today and take a walk along the beach.”
“Whatever you please.”
“And later…perhaps we shall…again.”
He grins and nods, quite eager to take her up on all of her suggestions.
A year from now, she may hold a babe at her breast. Her and her husband may present a new little prince or princess to his father and all the lords and ladies at court. Perhaps her parents will be invited to come and see their grandchild or they might even be permitted to visit Winterfell. She hopes…oh, how she hopes for that.
One day, her husband will sit upon the throne. Jon may not like ruling all that much but he will make a far fitter king she believes and would never pressure their sons or daughters to marry so young. He would never force this upon them, she knows, though she cannot regret it now, loving him the way she does.
But what if King Rhaegar still sits upon the throne when their son is barely seven and ten or their daughter merely four and ten as they were?
Perhaps the day that Jon becomes king will not be all that far off. Stranger things have happened and she knows her husband will love and protect their children as surely as he does his beloved wife. He is half dragon and has a dragon's fierceness at times. But he's also half wolf, just as she is. He knows about the loyalty of the pack.
She subtly strokes her tummy and smiles to herself. They will both protect their dear babes and defend one another...like wolves. Kings can die as easily as any man after all.