Chapter Text
“You don't love me. Big fucking deal! But you are still my wife, not his!”
Sansa is sitting in her solar accompanied only by Jeyne Poole, her closest lady-in-waiting, when her husband comes storming in with cheeks flaming and fists clenched. She always knew this day would come, these accusations would rise against her. She just did not expect it today. She turns to Jeyne immediately. "Go, please."
"Sansa - " Jeyne's concern is evident in her tone and the fear in her soft brown eyes. Sansa smiles sadly. "I'll be fine."
As Jeyne scurries out the door, her sewing forgotten in her seat, Aegon continues, “You are queen of this realm, and I find out you're cavorting with my brother?”
Sansa stands up, doing her best to remain calm in the face of her husband's anger. She studies him, the angry red blush blooming across his pale skin, the violent violet of his eyes, the mussed silver curls upon his head. She takes a deep breath. “What are you talking about?”
“I just sat a case where a street minstrel was making Naerys and Dragonknight comparisons between you two.” Her beautiful husband steps close to Sansa. Aegon’s ragged breath is hot in her face as he grabs her arms and pulls her close. She wonders if he ran here straight from the throne room, or if he waited to render judgement from atop the Iron Throne before coming to accuse her.
When they first met, his troops amassing at the Bloody Gate to claim the Vale for their King, Sansa had unveiled her identity early. It seemed practical, in the moment, to turn down her betrothal to Harry Hardyng and offer herself and her ties to three kingdoms to Aegon Targaryen. He was a prince of songs then, with dreamy Targaryen eyes and a cocky smile, a knight-trained warrior with all the education and bearing of a future king. The Sansa-that-was of her childhood would have loved him even more than she had loved Joffrey, her once golden prince. The Sansa that she had become only saw her marriage as a strategy for self-preservation. Aegon had been all too happy to accept her as his bride, although he accepted her more in hopes of gaining her love than gaining the Vale, Riverlands, and North through her.
The years after their marriage passed quickly, through the unification of the Seven Kingdoms and the Battle for the Dawn that stole away his aunt and her dragons into the curtain of light at the end of the world. If Daenerys had lived, so much would be different. Aegon could have set Sansa aside and she could have the love she desired instead of him.
Aegon was the prince of songs she so often dreamed of when she was younger, but her heart beats fast for Jon, Lord Commander of his brother’s Kingsguard now that the wars are over. Jon, who rescued her party on dragonback when they were accosted by Cersei's men. Jon, who swore himself to his brother only when he realized he could protect her best there. Jon, who she thought was her remaining brother but even when he wasn't, he was the only one who understands what is like to live in the shadow of Ned Stark.
She opens her eyes and, voice soft and trembling, says his name. "Aegon - "
“Is my son mine?” She hears his hurt, his anger.
“Yes.” She sighs, eyes glancing down because this is the truth at least. The Dragonknight comparison is too true. Jon won’t dishonor her, or her children, or himself. She wouldn’t want him too, either. He wouldn’t be her honorable knight then. “They all are.”
He releases her arms and steps away from her. Tentative relief fills Aegon’s face, but she can tell he is still unsure. But Egg and Daenys and Nymeria all have his bright violet eyes. Egg inherited more than his name from his father, with dark black hair so much like his cousin Arianne Martell's that some joke that Arianne is his true mother. But she can see where Aegon would have feared different, because the curl of that hair is more Stark than Tully or Targaryen. But Sansa is sure the Stark in Jon would rule out the godly Targaryen guise if they were his own children and not his nephew and nieces.
Aegon reaches out, takes her cheeks between his hands and presses a soft kiss upon her brow. "I'm sorry I doubted you, Sansa. You know I trust you. I just, the terror in me when the man's song was sung - " He pulls away, eyes hopefully holding her own blue gaze as if he is drowning and only her words could save him.
“I don’t love you, my lord. I never have and never will. But we both know you don’t love me, either. The words of my mother’s house are Family, Duty, Honor. I followed that, I did my duty by you. Hearts have no place in King’s Landing, but they’re still here and you cannot change that. But I will keep my honor, lord husband, as I have so little left.”