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“Is that Robb?”
The question is sudden and certainly unexpected and Sansa’s head flies up to look at Jon, sitting across from her at their small round table. She expects Jon to be looking out the front window and she expects to see Robb on the sidewalk outside though why he would be in Braavos, Sansa has absolutely no idea.
But instead, Jon’s head is tilted to the side, his eyes upwards towards the ceiling.
And then, she hears it. The pizzeria is loud that afternoon with the other patrons, eating their lunches, talking and laughing, clinks of silverware and the cooks in the open kitchen shouting out to one another, but through it all, there is also music playing over the pizzeria’s sound system and it takes her a moment, but Sansa can hear her brother’s voice.
It’s “Cold Turkey”, one his newer solo songs, and Sansa then looks to Jon. It’s amazing to her that he had been able to hear it at all through the noise, but when she thinks on it a moment longer, maybe it’s not that amazing. Even after the past few years of being apart, of the band being no more, Jon is still so aware of Robb’s singing, his voice and his music.
Sansa would bet money that Robb could do the same thing if Jon was on the radio right now.
“Sounds like him,” Sansa replies with a smile and then returns to cutting Eric’s pizza slice for him into smaller bites.
Jon listens for another moment longer before picking up his own pizza slice and taking a bite. He then picks up on of the napkins from the pile the waitress gave them and leans over to wipe at the sauce Eric has gotten on his chin, smiling back as Eric grins at him.
They normally don’t go to crowded restaurants for lunch or dinner – especially on a Saturday – but they had been out, running various errands and they had gotten hungry. At this particular pizzeria, Jon and Sansa know the owner, Tom, and though he is a man of smaller stature, that does not stop Tom from making sure that his customers know that when the Jon Snow and the actress Sansa Snow are in his restaurant, no one will bother them.
Despite the lunch crowd that afternoon, Jon and Sansa, with Eric, have been able to sit at a table and enjoy their pizza in relative peace. Jon is aware of more than one person, snapping a picture of him or his wife with their phones, trying to be casual about it, but as long as they don’t get a picture of his son in the process, Jon pretends that he doesn’t notice. It just comes with the territory and Jon and Sansa both understand that.
Robb’s song ends and another begins. A Direwolves song. To be more exact, Sansa’s song. Jon lifts his eyes to see if she can hear it over the noise and she’s smiling so he knows that she can. It makes him smile, too.
A sudden flash makes them all jump with the surprise of it. Eric drops his glass from between his hands, water spilling onto the table.
“Mama!” The little boy cries out, his hands slapping over his eyes from the brightness of it.
Jon and Sansa both instantly look out the front window. More than one paparazzi photographer is now out on the sidewalk and when they see Jon and Sansa looking, they begin shouting their names and snapping more pictures, more flashes going off, and Eric clenches his eyes shut as he holds his arms out towards Sansa, wailing.
“Motherfu-” Jon begins to curse.
“Jon,” Sansa swiftly cuts him off as she stands up, hefting Eric into her arms, the little boy burying his face in her shoulder. “Go talk to Tom,” she tells Jon calmly as she rubs Eric’s back.
Jon makes sure that the photographers can see his glare and clenched jaw as he stands up. The others in the pizzeria are now buzzing, trying to see what is going on, and Jon gives Eric a kiss on the head and rubs a hand on Sansa’s back before turning to go find the establishment’s owner. But just as he does, Tom is already hurrying out from the kitchen, coming towards them.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he rushes out as he goes past them to their window, pulling down the blinds and giving the paparazzi his middle finger in the process.
“It’s okay, Tom,” Sansa assures him. “It’s not your fault.”
“We are just going to get the rest of the pizza to go and we’ll be better off heading home,” Jon adds, moving back towards their table. “I’m sorry about the spilled water,” he picks up Eric’s overturned glass and begins spreading the napkins out over the puddle.
Tom slaps his hands away so he stops cleaning. “I’ll get this boxed up for you and then I’ll call the police so they can escort you out to your car safely.”
Normally, Jon would tell him that that wasn’t necessary. It wouldn’t be the first paparazzi crowd he has had to push himself and Sansa through. But Eric is in Sansa’s arms, the little boy crying into her shoulder as she murmurs soft words in his ear and rubs his back. The sudden flash had scared him and maybe, having a safe escort to the car wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
“Thank you,” he says to Tom.
“Thank you, Tom,” Sansa says as well and Tom smiles at both of them before walking back towards the kitchen with their pizza in his hands to get it boxed.
Jon sighs with frustration and sits down in his chair once more. Through the closed blinds, he can still hear the damn horde of photographers outside, still wanting to try and get their shots. Sansa coms to stand in front of him and able to hold Eric with one arm, she gently runs her other hand over Jon’s head. He lifts his eyes to look up to her.
“It happens,” she tells him with a small smile. “You know it happens.”
“I wish it didn’t though,” Jon replies with a frown.
“Well, then, you shouldn’t have become a world-famous musician,” she quips. “If you wanted to be able to go out for pizza on a Saturday afternoon, you should have just gone to college and gotten a job like the rest of us.”
Jon’s down-turned mouth begins to turn. “What about you? You went to college and got a job and I heard those photographers shout your name, too.”
“And look at me. I’m not nearly as angry as you are right now,” Sansa says with a bit of a bigger smile and she’s getting Jon to smile now, too.
“Mr. and Mrs. Snow?”
Jon and Sansa, turning, both look to see a large, rather muscular man with bright red hair and a matching beard, standing there now.
Jon hopes he’s not looking for an autograph at this precise moment. He tries his best to always be patient with the rather ravenous Direwolves fans – just as hungry now, three years after the band’s breakup as they’ve always been – but this guy really needs to learn to have better timing because Jon is not in the mood to be the nice and appreciative guy right now.
“If you need help getting to your car, I’d be more than happy to get you there,” the man offers.
Jon looks to the man. He looks like a bear, in Jon’s opinion. A burly, red-headed bear and a bear is exactly what is needed in these kinds of situations.
Jon stands up. “That’d be great,” he decides. “Thank you…”
“Tormund,” the man grins and holds out his hand.
Jon smiles, too, and steps in to shake it with his own. “Tormund, thank you.”
Sansa and Tormund smile and shake hands as well.
“You have a Northern accent,” Sansa points out.
“That I do,” Tormund smiles. “From the Wall, born and raised.”
“Very North then,” she laughs slightly. “How’d you wind up in Braavos?”
“Followed a girl here, she broke up with me a month later and I’ve been trying to get enough money to get back to the Wall ever since.”
Jon sees Sansa shifting Eric in her arms and he reaches over, taking Eric into his arms to give her a break. “Once Tom brings our pizza, we’ll head straight to the car, alright?” He says to her.
Sansa nods and then looks to Tormund. “Thank you so much for offering to do this for us.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Tormund smiles. “I’m a very big fan of yours.”
“Of mine?” Sansa asks and can’t hide her surprise.
She’s used to hearing that – but in regards to Jon when they are both together. It’s just the way of things. Yes, she has a very good career here as an actress with the Braavos Shakespeare Theater Company, but outside of Braavos, she just isn’t that well known. Stage actresses aren’t popular to those who don’t follow the world of stage plays.
Jon is a Direwolf though and despite four years having passed, the Direwolves are still one of the biggest bands in the world. Everyone knows who Jon Snow and the others are. Sansa’s name may be known in her own right, but more times than not, she’s known for being married to Jon Snow.
And she knew it would be like that. She never doubted that it would be like that and she had never cared if she was ever famous or not. Being Jon’s girlfriend and the wife, she had had a taste for the insane fame that comes with just being him and she hasn’t necessarily liked it. She likes the small cluster of fans after the shows that wait outside the stage door for her autograph. That is her kind of fame. As long as she can act on a stage every night and recite her Shakespeare, Sansa has always known that that would be more than enough for her.
She is definitely not used to someone being her fan while Jon is standing right at her side.
From the corner of her eye, she can see Jon smiling.
“I was an usher for a while at your theater. One of my many jobs. I saw you as Viola and I thought you were great,” Tormund tells her.
Now Sansa is smiling, too. Viola from Twelfth Night is her personal favorite role that she’s portrayed so far in her career and it was her first leading role in the Shakespeare Theatre Company.
“Here we are,” Tom returns with their box of pizza. “The police have a squad car coming.”
“Actually, Tormund here is going to help us get to the car,” Jon says as Sansa takes the box.
After Tom walked them to the door and apologized profusely for the inconvenience – and Sansa and Jon thanking him for his help while telling him he has nothing to apologize for – Tormund opens the door first. They are immediately met with an explosion of camera flashes and shouting. Eric’s arms tighten around Jon’s neck and Sansa takes the pizza box from Jon’s hand so Jon can hold the boy with both arms and do his best to shield him from the insanity.
“Here, boss,” Tormund says, taking off his zipped hooded sweatshirt and drapes it over Eric, Sansa covering his head with the hood. “Alright, let’s go,” he then tells the couple and begins to push forward, holding the photographers back with one arm as he guides Sansa and then Jon along, acting as their barrier as much as he can.
Over the noise of his and Sansa’s name being shouted, Jon can hear Eric whimpering from beneath Tormund’s massive hoodie and Jon keeps a comforting hand on his back, promising him in a low voice that they’re almost out of there. They have parked down a side street and Sansa reaches into Jon’s coat pocket for the keys, unlocking the car as soon as they are near enough.
“Thank you so, so much,” Sansa says to Tormund as she takes Eric from Jon’s arms and leaning into the backseat, she buckles Eric into his toddler seat and kisses the boy on his head as Jon and Tormund block the cameras from getting a good view. “Watch this with your life,” she then says to the boy solemnly as she sets the pizza box safely onto the floor and for the first time since the first camera flash, Eric smiles.
Sansa smiles, too, and kisses his head again before pulling herself out of the car and closing the door. Without thought, she stands on her toes and kisses Tormund on the cheek before sliding into the front passenger seat. Tormund then walks Jon around to the driver’s side of the car and holds the paparazzi back with his one arm again. Jon doesn’t get into the car right away though. He digs into his pocket and pulls out a slip of paper – a receipt from one of the stores they had gone into earlier – and then with a pen, he quickly scratches out his cell number.
“Call me tomorrow and I’ll give you our address. If you’re looking for a job, you’re hired,” Jon tells him and then looks back into the car when Sansa says his name. “And don’t forget this,” he says, handing Tormund back his zipped hoodie. “And if you don’t want a job, call me tomorrow anyway so I can pay you for today. Thank you.”
“No problem, boss,” Tormund says, staring down at the number on the receipt, not even paying attention anymore as Jon gets into the car and a moment later, the Snow family drives off.
And with them now gone, the paparazzi almost immediately break apart, leaving Tormund standing in the middle of the street, still staring down at the paper, hardly believing it’s real.
In the car, as Jon drives them out of the city and into the countryside outside of Braavos where their private property and home is located, Sansa exhales a deep sigh from beside him and then looks into the backseat to look at Eric. The little boy is staring down at the pizza box closely as if he is expecting it to sprout legs and run off. It makes Sansa almost laugh and she then turns forward again and catches Jon’s eyes, watching her. She gives him a smile and he smiles back, taking his own deep breath.
“So, Tormund seems like he might be someone good to have around,” Sansa comments.
“He’s more a fan of you than me. Already is smarter than other bodyguards we’ve had,” Jon replies and Sansa rolls her eyes, but he can see her biting back a smile with a light pink blush spreading across her cheeks.
Jon smiles and reaching a hand over, he takes one of her hands and gives it a squeeze. Sansa squeezes it back and holds onto it. With her other hand, she turns on the radio. Immediately, they are met with Robb’s voice.
She leans back in her seat with a smile and looks to Jon. “Robb again.”
“He must be following us around today,” Jon comments and they listen quietly to the song for a passing moment, Jon running his thumb back and forth over Sansa’s knuckles.
“It will only get worse when you release your solo record,” Sansa then says.
“Yeah,” Jon agrees; nothing to argue over with what she’s said. “But someone keeps telling me that the world wants a solo Jon Snow and… I do miss it. Being in a studio and making my own music. Not assholes stalking me with cameras,” he then feels the need to clarify.
Sansa laughs softly at that and the nods her head. “Of course you miss it. You’ve been the best stay-at-home dad for these past few years, but that’s not all you’re meant to be, Jon. The world needs your music. And a world with just three Direwolves making solo music is not a world that’s musically complete.”
Jon breaks into a grin at that; almost laughs. He then glances to Sansa before back to the road.
“I’m amazed at the way you love me all the time,” he then says.
Sansa smiles and blushes. “That’s beautiful,” she then comments.
“Yeah?” He asks and she nods. “I’m amazed at the way you love me all the time,” he repeats – quietly and more to himself this time. “Almost already sounds like it could be a song.”
…
