Chapter Text
"Go dance with your cousin." Sansa was dancing with her brother, Robb. She looked as lovely as always. She wore her armour of courtesy, obviously still greaving the young lord Tyrell.
Lyanna smiled sadly. For the bright side, she isn't carrying a child. It would be worse if she had to raise a child alone in a world like this. Not just any child, but a future lord. Though her niece didn't see it that way at first. How could she? She's still so young and naive. So full of life. Unlike me. Lyanna thought sadly. Her life was Jon and only Jon.
Lyanna spent little time with her niece. Sansa felt guilty, as if she was dammed by the gods. As if her husband died young because she didn't make him happy. He didn't love me, aunt. I didn't love him either. Sansa confessed. I tried to, but I loved his brother instead. And Willas knew it.
The Tyrells were not her family. Not truly. One day the pain was too much for a young widow to bare isolated from those who love her.
So Catelyn made Ned bring her back home.
Lyanna couldn't be more happy with this decision.
"Why are you marrying your daughter to some strange? Have you learnt nothing from what happened to me? She asked Ned angrily. But Sansa and Lyanna are very different. Sansa wanted the life she was raised to have. No protests. The girl was certain she already loved her lord husband.
Later Lyanna realised the real reason for her anger. She expected that one day, Jon would marry one of his cousins. Sansa to be specific. Since she's the older, and the one Jon looked at with quiet admiration. But of course a lord would think twice before marrying their true born daughter to the king's bastard.
"Mother you know I don't like dancing." Jon said. Sullen as usual. He's so much like his uncle. Thank the old gods and news. She smiled at him sweetly. Gently touched his cheek.
He's not being sincere. Lyanna knows his son. She remembers how he used to watch Sansa sing and the way he paid attention to her advices on how to speak to a lady.
Jon admires all his cousins. But with Sansa was always different. She never was like a sister the way Arya is the little Jon never had.
Though Jon has a half-sister, Rhaenys. Lyanna quickly tried to think of something else. Rhaegar is her past. He has plans for his children, but Lyanna will manage her only son's future.
"Jon, I know girls make you nervous."
Jon laughed nervously. "What's that?"
"But she's just your cousin. Your beautiful, beautiful cousin." She said playfully. But Jon was no longer laughing.
Lyanna saw as Jon's eyes sought Sansa. He's been avoiding her as much as he could since she arrived at Winterfell. He was doing so well. Taking her to walks and being gallant as a knight from the songs. But something scared him. Jon probably doesn't feel worthy of her.
He watched as Sansa forced a smile at something Robb had told her.
"I wouldn't know what to say." He confessed.
"Just say what you want to say. Or don't say anything. Tomorrow I intend to invite her to stay with us for a while in Queenscrown."
Jon was startled by that. Lyanna waited for his protest, but he said nothing.
After a moment of reflection, Jon, courteously, surprising everyone but his mother, offered his hand to Sansa, whom gladly accepted.
His heart was pounding wild. Sansa was studying him. His face, his long hair, his neck. He could swear she looked at his lips for a quick moment.
"You've changed a lot since I last saw you." She said finally. He hadn't said a word other than the courteous words Sansa herself was probably tired of.
"Am I less boring and less ugly?"
She laughed. A joyful laugh. The sound of it was enchanted. She also blushed prettily, gazing at their feet.
"I cannot believe you remember that. I'm so sorry, that was so rude." She said, now looking him in the eyes.
"And no. You're not ugly or boring. Though you and Arya were annoying back then." They both smiling at the childhood memories that conversation brought to them both.
"And how am I different now?" He suddenly felt bold. Jon told himself it was only a passing thing, this feelings. Sansa has always been the face of the lovely wife he sometimes allowed himself to paint in his head. A dream he knew it would never come true. He thought maybe the reason was because Sansa was the most pretty girl he has ever seen.
With time, Jon realised that the few women he had been with, attracted him because of something that reminded him of Sansa...
And when his uncle married her to a Southern lord, Jon, for his sorrow, was sure these feelings would not go away easily. Probably never.
"Taller, courteous... I like the way you use your hair. Makes you look a little different from my father." She smiled and Jon didn't understand why.
"Do you think I look like your father?"
"So much. It's scary. But as I said, you're different now." Jon felt her fingers touch his hard. Her move encouraged him to do the same with hers.
Whispering she asked, "Jon, is it true what your mother said? That you love me, but not like a cousin?"
"Is that what she said?" Sansa nodded. Waiting for his answer. He felt embarrassed and angry. Jon didn't dare to look at where his mother was. Last time he looked, she was chattering with Lady Stark.
He couldn't believe his mother. Why would she say that?
"I told her she must be mistaken, because you barely look at me." Still, she waited for Jon to say something.
Jon was certain that 'not like a cousin' was Sansa's own words.
He considered saying yes, but you and my mother ruined it. How much did they talk about him? What did they say? But he could not lose chance.
"I do love you." He whispered. It feels right to confess it now. She's a widow, she asked, she looks at him different. Even if she does not love him, he can win her love.
The smile on her lips, made him feel confident about it.
They like to ride and sword fighting. Sansa was repeating Arya's words in her head. No, she also said they like music. Sansa shouldn't be this nervous to visit her aunt castle. Truth be told, she's scared that Jon will find her boring. She is different from the girls Jon likes.
Weeks ago, Sansa would have laughed at the thought of her and Jon dancing and or he courting her. But that was before she came back to Winterfell and finally saw the sweet man hide behind his sullen face. Ever so courteous, he mentioned the times Sansa used to sing at feasts and compliment her poetry.
Jon doesn't care about poetry and books. He was only trying to make Sansa feel happy. She smiled at the memory. He made her life beautiful again. She no longer cried herself to sleep thinking of the disgrace of being a widow, she started to wear colourful dresses again. To dance, to laugh. Once and a while she felt guilty for it. But what could she do? Suffer until her last days? She didn't love Willas do to that.
Being close to Jon made her realise a side of him she never bother to know before. She always wondered why Arya and Robb loved Jon so much, now she knows.
Then, suddenly he started to avoid her, leaving Sansa wondering if she had offended him somehow.
Until Arya murmured with distaste "Jon has a woman or something" or something?
"Why do you say that?"
"He's distant...Drinking...last time he was like that, it was because of a woman. Robb told me." The woman he loves is marrying another. Was the words Arya had said.
Was it me?
At that moment Sansa felt nothing. But when she slept, she dreamed of her children, as if often happened. Her children always look exactly like her brothers and sister. No, not like her sister, like Jon. She thought as she finished packing her things.