Chapter Text
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Chapter One. Sansa I.
Like her own mom, Sansa absolutely loved cooking and baking for her family. Food truly held the power to brighten a person’s day and when their stomach was full, they were generally happier. One of her favorite places was in the kitchen, creating something from scratch and seeing the smiles on her family once she revealed it to them. Every day when the kids got home from school, they scattered throughout the kitchen and family room to work on their homework under the watchful eye of Sansa as she worked on dinner. It was her favorite time of the day.
Cold weather had arrived and in Greywater, it meant jeans and sweatshirts. Still no need for coats – not like the cold further North – but they had lived here for almost two years now and this was the cold weather that the Snow family was now accustomed to. A Northern girl through and through still and to “celebrate” the cold as it was, Sansa had prepared a pork roast along with carrots, onions and Yukon golden potatoes, all cooking away together in her iron Dutch oven. It had been in the oven for three hours now and the house was filled with the most appetizing aroma; so much so that Max’s whines were becoming more frequent of how hungry he was.
Normally, she would make her own biscuit dough but today, Sansa had gotten a burst of inspiration and had been cutting and sewing fabrics for hours and had completely forgotten so it would be tinned biscuits tonight instead. She kept an eye on the children while she placed the biscuits on the cookie sheet. They were all studying and completing their work as they were supposed to. It used to be that the children did their homework before or after dinner. Jon and Sansa hadn’t really watched them like hawks. They had trusted them to get it all done. But then George and Eleanor got caught failing a test and forging Jon’s signature and since then, the five kids were to do their homework before dinner under a parent’s supervision.
Brandon was lying on the couch, reading a book for his English class – “Lord of the Flies” – as Martha had forced herself on the couch, too. She was lying between Brandon’s legs with her head on his stomach and Brandon rubbed his knuckles absently over her head as he read. Ringo didn’t seem to be jealous over this as the dog was too busy right now, lying on the floor underneath the kitchen table, chewing on a rawhide bone. It looked like she was sleeping but Martha heard it before everyone else. Her ears twitched and she lifted her head. Ringo then heard it and he stopped in midchew to twitch his ears, too.
They then all heard the garage door open and the pickup truck pull in and the garage door then closing again. Moments after that, there was the alarm being set and then his boots were on the stairs. The laundry room door opened and Martha and Ringo both took off to greet him and they could hear him greeting the dogs in return. It was another moment before Jon appeared, his work boots off, and he came down the hallway with his thermos, keys and wallet – which he left at the corner of the counter like he always did.
“Hi, dad!” The kids all greeted him.
“Hey, guys,” Jon gave them all a grin. He walked to Julia and placed a brown paper bag in front of her. “As promised.”
Julia gasped and was quick to open the bag and peer inside, seeing the slugs (already dead) that Jon had made a special stop at the pet store for after leaving his jobsite. “Thank you, dad! Hamlet’s favorite!” She threw her arms around his waist in a tight hug.
Jon chuckled and hugged her with one arm around her shoulders. He then went to Sansa, who had just slid the biscuits into the oven.
“How was your day?” Jon asked.
“Really, really good,” Sansa answered honestly, giving him a smile. “How was yours?”
Jon gave a slight nod. “Good.”
Sansa looked at him – closely – and she didn’t know if she actually believed that. There was something in his face. His slight nod. The way his throat bobbed. Sansa didn’t believe him at all but she wasn’t going to ask him again in front of the kids. Definitely after dinner though when it was just the two of them. Instead, now, she leaned in and gave him a soft kiss and then hugged him, her arms around his shoulders and her nose to his neck. She smelled two things straight away coming from her husband’s clothes.
Cigarette smoke and a woman’s perfume that wasn’t hers.
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Sansa did her absolute best to not dwell on it. Yes, Jon smelled like perfume but there had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for it. This was Jon. Did she really think that Jon was doing something like that? No, of course not. Jon loved her. He absolutely loved her. Sansa knew that. But… he did smell like another woman. And Jon smoked whenever he felt tempted to drink. He didn’t smoke any other time except then. Something had happened today – clearly – and Sansa desperately wanted to ask but right now, she had to get through dinner.
Everyone loved the dinner she had prepared if their ravenous appetites were any indication. At their kitchen table, Jon and Sansa sat on either end with the kids sitting on the sides. Julia always sat next Jon and Brandon always sat next to Sansa and the other three sat where they pleased. And of course, both dogs were begging at anyone who took pity upon them and gave them bits. Jon asked everyone about their days as he always did at dinner and the kids told him the stories they had already told Sansa when they first got home. Sansa did her best to listen to everything that everyone said – whether she already heard it or not – but admittedly, she was distracted.
And how could she not be? Jon smelling of a woman’s perfume just didn’t make sense. He was on a dirty worksite all day with the majority of those around him being sweaty and dirty men. Val was there but Val never wore perfume to work – becoming just as dirty and sweaty as she worked on the electrical wiring of the hospital so why would she even bother? Had Myrcella, the Snow Construction office manager go down to the site today? She sometimes did that. Yes, that made sense. Maybe Myrcella had visited the jobsite and had hugged Jon for one reason or another. The perfume had to have been from Myrcella because the only other explanation…
No, there wasn’t any other explanation because any other idea didn’t make any sense. This was Jon. Jon loved her. She never doubted Jon’s love for her. She never had a reason to. They weren’t eighteen and twenty anymore. Everything that had happened their first time around was so far in the past and that was where it stayed. They had been married for years now and had this family and this whole life together. What had happened between them when they were much younger honestly felt like it hadn’t even happened, it had been so long ago. Sometimes – brief moments – yes, something would happen and Sansa would get a brief memory of that time but honestly, it was like her time with Ramsay. It had been blocked as best as possible.
And Ramsay. Jon had killed for her. He had actually beat Ramsay to near-death with his fists and then along with Robb and her dad, Jon had covered Ramsay with cement and tossed him into the sea where he still remained all of these years later. If she ever doubted his feelings towards her, she just had to remember that one fact. Jon had killed the man who had beat and tortured her. That meant something – everything – and it always would.
Jon wouldn’t cheat on her. He just wouldn’t. He also wouldn’t make it so obvious if he did. Coming home, smelling like another woman’s perfume, was just too clichéd and her husband was a smart man. He would have at least changed his shirt after an illicit meeting. He wouldn’t come home, smelling like someone else. It was just so preposterous. And yet… why did he smell like another woman? It had to have been an innocent hug. It HAD to be because otherwise, her husband had cheated on her, came home so she could smell it, and Sansa didn’t feel very hungry at the moment despite how delicious dinner did look, if she did say so herself. Was that why he had smoked? To cover up the perfume?
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There were hardly any leftovers – another sign that the family had loved what Sansa had made – and after they were all finished, they helped clean up the kitchen. Sansa still didn’t have the chance to talk with Jon about his day – and the cigarette smoke and perfume – because the children were all still underfoot and then, as soon as everything was cleaned up, the dishwasher was loaded and going through its cycle, and the small amount of leftovers was in the refrigerator, the younger kids grabbed Jon’s hands and tugged him into the family room. They had recently just discovered UNO and both Julia and Max wanted to play nothing else at the moment.
Brandon was back on the couch, reading – used to doing his homework and even taking naps when things were far from quiet around him – and George and Eleanor were deciding if they wanted to watch an after-dinner movie or an episode of some television show. Obviously, Sansa wouldn’t be able to talk with Jon at the moment so after making sure that everyone that was alright, Sansa headed up the stairs. Martha realized that she was leaving and raced after her.
Sansa went into hers and Jon’s bedroom and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She wasn’t upset. She told herself to not be upset. There was nothing to be upset about. Jon loved her and Jon would never not love her. She loved him, too. It wasn’t even love. What she and Jon had between them was more than love. They were truly meant to be together and they had built their life together, surrounding that fact. She needed to talk to Jon or she was going to go absolutely mad and this was so easily avoidable if she would just calm down and talk. Wasn’t that their initial problem when they were so much younger? They never actually talked and so much then could have been avoided and they both swore they would never make that mistake again. But here Sansa was, hiding in the bathroom like she was eighteen-years-old again.
Logical thoughts only, Sansa told herself as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. The Myrcella idea really was the one that made the most sense.
Still looking at her reflection, she leaned in a little closer. She had a couple of grey hairs nestled among her red – noticeable to no one but her. She had slight wrinkles around her mouth which she didn’t mind because it just meant that, perhaps, she had been smiling too much in her life. Did Jon still find her to be beautiful? Was he still attracted to her? They had five kids. Life was stressful, to put it lightly. They did their best to always find time to just be a couple but sometimes, they were both too tired to do anything. Sansa hadn’t thought it was a problem but her husband smelled like perfume so maybe it was a much bigger deal than she ever imagined.
She looked at her gray hairs and she didn’t pluck them. She knew Jon did that to his own even if she kept telling him that he really shouldn’t do that because it would just grow back faster. There were just a couple of silver strands but maybe she should make a coloring appointment at the hair salon. She took a step back from the mirror and looked at more of her reflection. She had plenty to keep herself busy during the days but she was still a “stay-at-home” mom. Some days, she wore sweatpants with no makeup. Was that why Jon smelled like another woman’s perfume?
Sansa sighed heavily and despite herself, she could feel her eyes start to sting. She quickly spun away so she didn’t look into the mirror anymore. There was a logical explanation for that perfume on her husband’s clothes and it wasn’t because he was having an affair. Not her Jon.
When he got home, before dinner, Jon had come up here to take a shower and the towel was still hanging over the stop of the shower bar, air drying. Sansa went to it know, feeling it. It was still a bit damp and she left it hanging for a bit longer. She had been up here long enough. It was time to get back downstairs and be with her family. Her husband and her children were her world and there was nothing wrong. Something had happened with Jon today but it wasn’t what her mind couldn’t stop going back to. It wasn’t anything like that but it was something and she needed to ask him about it. They weren’t kids anymore. They hadn’t been kids for a long time. They talked with one another when something was going on with them.
With a deep breath, Sansa went to the bathroom door and opened it. She instantly jumped in surprise when she saw Jon sitting on the side of the bed. He was leaning forward, his arms on his knees, his hands folded, and when he heard the door open, he lifted his head to look at her. Sansa took a step forward. He looked absolutely exhausted. She paused but only for a moment. He needed her. He couldn’t hide that from her. He wasn’t trying to hide that. And she went to him without hesitating, sitting down next to him. He had changed, too, after his shower and his black sweatpants and black tee-shirt smelled like fabric softener and dryer sheets. No more perfume. Just laundry and soap and Jon. Sansa could breathe next to him again.
Jon exhaled a breath and sat up. His eyes looked into hers. “I need to talk with you.”
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