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“You’re hurt!” he shouts as he tosses his bow to the ground and races towards her.
“No, I just slipped and fell.”
He starts to laugh but quickly smothers it at the flash of anger in her eyes.
She keeps sitting there. If she’s not hurt, why isn’t she getting up? The ground is rocks and frozen mud here. If he wanted to sit, it wouldn’t stop him but he’s not her.
“If you’re not hurt, get up. We’ve got to keep moving, princess.”
She gives him another angry look. He keeps forgetting she doesn’t want to be called that. She was supposed to marry the kneelers’ king’s son before Jon stole her but the prince is a cruel shit from everything she’s told him. She doesn’t want to marry the prince and be his princess.
Jon doesn’t want her to marry him either. He wants to make her his princess…except he’s not a prince. And, he’s admittedly terrible when it comes to wooing ladies. Honestly, he’s not sure exactly what wooing is. It’s just a word he’s heard in Mance’s songs. Things are so much more straightforward with the Free Folk. The kneelers have too many rules about these things.
He offers her his hand to help her up. She promptly sniffles and a fat teardrop slides down her cheek.
“You are hurt!”
He didn’t mean to sound so accusatory and she takes a step back before replying.
“If I am hurt, it is only my fault.”
She walks past him and he’s chilled to the bone by the sadness in her voice.
The trap is set and the prey is creeping closer. His mouth is salivating. No hungry bellies tonight.
Ghost has gone off hunting for himself, Jon knows. He’s seen it inside his head when he lays down at night. He does not begrudge the direwolf his time alone. That is the way of wolves but he misses him. He misses his help with hunting when prey is so scarce on the ground as well.
He’d told her to wait for him in the cave they’d found but she never listens. What’s she doing?
“Don’t!”
It’s too late and the hare scampers away, startled by her blundering about.
She could at least look remorseful, he thinks, as he tells her everything she did wrong. She looks petulant instead and he starts to feel unsure of himself.
“You don’t have to be so nasty. I was only trying to help you.”
“Nasty?” he repeats, confused. What did cleanliness have to do with anything? He latches onto the other part and chuckles. “I don’t need your help to hunt, princess. You’re more of a hindrance than anything.”
A wounded look appears in those blue eyes and maybe it’s him feeling remorseful now. How does he take back the words? They were honest words but they’ve come out the wrong way.
She doesn’t speak to him the rest of the day.
“You’re too skinny. You need to eat,” he says gruffly after night fall.
She looks up as he holds out the bit of roasted hare that’s cool enough to eat at last. He’d hunted all day and managed one scrawny hare. These woods are too empty and they need to keep moving.
Her expression is hard to read and his hand trembles slightly as he passes the food to her. His belly tightens up when their fingers touch for a mere instant. He’s frustrated at how she affects him with no more than a look or a brief touch.
“Skinny?”
“Aye. It’s best if you put a bit ‘o meat on your bones where we’re headed.”
“Where are we headed?”
“You’ll see,” he says, enjoying his moment of superiority.
His moment fades quickly as she takes one bite of the hare and then nestles into the furs he’s given her, turning away from him. How did this all go so wrong? They were getting on well enough before.
He eats every last bite of the hare though it’s not much and he eats her share as well. Good meat won’t go to waste. It tastes like ash in his mouth.
When the fire burns low, he lays down beside her. She’s pretending to sleep but he can tell by the sound of her breathing she’s still awake. He throws his arm over her to pull her closer. They’ve been sleeping close for several nights, since before she kissed him on the cheek and made his heart flutter like some silly maiden, since before he killed those men who’d threatened her, since back when he was sick and she’d cared for him. They’re used to this way of sleeping.
But tonight, she stiffens. Why is she stiffening tonight? Everything about her is so rigid right now, she’s like a hard stone that will not yield. Usually, she’s so soft against him and he takes comfort in her warmth and softness when it’s dark and his mind begins to fret over their circumstances.
“Are you angry with me, Sansa?” he asks at last.
She huffs, a sound both frustrated and disbelieving. She is angry with him.
“You don’t need me. You don’t want me here. Why are you bothering to keep me with you?” She rolls towards him and the dying fire shows him the tears dotting her eyelashes.
Oh, his heart is hurting and he’s hurt her, too, it seems. “You’re hurt.” She opens her mouth to deny it. “It wasn’t a question.”
“Yes, I’m hurt.”
“By me?”
“Yes, by you!” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re mean and thoughtless! You yell at me and laugh at me and call me skinny! You won’t even tell me where we’re going either!”
He thinks over the day and everything that occurred. He grimaces as he realizes that she’s right. He’s been awful all day. She’s supposed to be his prisoner but he’s not really considered her his prisoner for some time now.
“I was taking you to Mance because I don’t know what else to do except I’m not sure where Mance is right now. But if you’d rather me take you home again, I will.”
“You would?”
“We’ll walk right back to the Wall. We’ll start tomorrow if you say so.”
“You don’t want me here.” She’s sad again. He figured she’d rather go home than stay with him. Much as it would hurt to let her go, he doesn’t want to hold her against her will either.
“That’s not true. I do.” He dares to cup her soft cheek with one hand. “Sansa, I’m very sorry for hurting you today. I’m not used to being…gentle with my words. I don’t know how a kneeler talks to a lady but I’d like to learn…for you.” His cheeks had grown warmer with every word he’d uttered. It was still true.
“You should practice it then.”
“How?”
“Say something sweet to me.”
“Right now?”
“Yes, Jon, right now. Say something sweet.”
He’s puzzled but, the moment he feels her stiffening again, he blurts it out, “You’re beautiful.” Her lips twitch. She’s probably heard that from many men. He should try something else. “You may not know how to hunt or fish or build a fire but you’re smart. You know all sorts of things I don’t. I’ve never read a book. I don’t know how.”
“I could teach you to read if you wanted to learn.”
“Then, I’m afraid I’ll have to keep you with me a little longer…if that’s alright.”
She grins but doesn’t say anything in reply. She simply rolls over and burrows back down into their furs.
And then her hand reaches back and grasps his, tugging at it until he’s holding her.
“I’m sorry again for hurting your feelings earlier,” he whispers, his lips brushing the sweet shell of her ear.
She is still silent but she pulls his hand up to her own lips now and kisses it. He wonders if she can hear his heart pounding when she does it.