Chapter Text
Outside, the streets were white with snow, the roads icy, but inside Castle Black lodge, it was nice and warm.
Sansa had been sat at the bar for nearly an hour, anxiously sipping a white wine spritzer and checking her phone every few minutes. She cast a glance around the quiet pub, biting her thumbnail. The place had a calming atmosphere, rustic and wooden, with a large fireplace in the dining area and real boughs of fir and holly hanging on the walls. Not the artificial kind she would see at bars and restaurants in the Vale. There were warm, gold string lights covering the ceiling, and decades' old Christmas hits played softly on the jukebox. It was undoubtedly festive and cosy, but Sansa just felt on edge.
She unlocked her phone to quickly send another text.
[Sansa]
Have you reached Wintertown station yet?
Sent 21:04pm
Sansa waited to see if Harry would respond. When her boyfriend had said he couldn't make the train she'd already booked for them a few days prior, that he had to take care of some things at work and that he would join her in Wintertown a few days later, Sansa had been dubious. She wasn't sure if she could fully trust he would get a train without her. She didn't like it when things didn't go according to her careful plans. And now, the day had arrived; Harry was supposed to meet her here at Castle Black lodge fifty minutes ago. He hadn't responded to any of her texts or calls in the last three hours.
Sansa let out a shaky breath. For all she knew, Harry never got on the train and was back home in the Vale, drinking at one of his usual bars. She tried to swallow the dryness in her throat, then took a deep sip of her wine, her hand shaking slightly, as she quickly glanced around the bar, seeking out Jon.
Her brother's old friend from school, Jon Snow, was working behind the bar tonight. That was reassuring for Sansa; Jon was like family, in a way, even if the two of them had never been particularly close growing up. He was a familiar face, someone she knew and could talk to, someone who was kind enough to check on her every now and then, even though he was working.
She'd been in Wintertown for two days already, her first visit home in six years, and she hadn't been to see any of her family yet. She'd decided to wait for Harry before she braved the storm of her parents and siblings. When Sansa had ventured into Castle Black the night before, needing to get out of the B&B where she was staying and looking for someplace to eat, she and Jon had been equally surprised to see one another.
~
"I didn't think you were coming until the 23rd," Jon had said as he'd shown her to a table, after they'd both recovered from their initial shock. They hadn't hugged; she couldn't recall if they had ever hugged. But it was nice to see him all the same.
"I got here yesterday, actually. I'm staying at the Reeds' bed and breakfast, and I'll be heading to my parents' the day after tomorrow," Sansa had explained. She hadn't bothered saying that she was waiting for Harry to join her; that he had requested they book somewhere else to stay for a few days. She'd started to feel horribly embarrassed by it all.
She and Jon had made awkward small talk for a while, he'd recommended the steak and kidney pie, and then Sansa had blurted -
"My family don't know I'm here yet, either. I just needed... some time. Do you think we could keep this between us?"
Jon had looked a little surprised, a little uncertain, but had agreed with a -
"Sure."
~
Now, Jon was at the other end of the bar, pouring beer from the tap for a customer, but he seemed to sense Sansa looking at him. He half-turned to her, dark brows raised in question. Sansa took a deep breath then slid off her bar stool, slowly walking towards Jon with her phone and purse in hand.
"Is it okay if I use the office for a second? I need to make a phone call, and it's so cold outside," she asked when she was within earshot, her voice sounding weak to her own ears.
While it was slightly warmer than winters usually were in the north, it was still freezing. In the past, the north had been hit with blizzards so hard they'd had to close roads and buildings for several days at a time. This year, so far, they'd only had 'light' snowfalls and 'mild' temperatures - still well below freezing. Sansa wasn't quite so used to the cold anymore, not after living in King's Landing for four years, then the Vale for the last two.
Jon looked at her for a moment, his deep grey eyes warm; his gaze lingered on her for a beat before he nodded, wordlessly. Jon had always been quiet, especially with her. Sansa tried to give him a sweet smile in thanks, then walked around the bar, crossing to the other side and to the tiny office at the back of the building. Once inside, she checked it was empty then closed the door; she immediately called Harry. He answered on the fourth ring, and for a second, Sansa was stunned that he actually picked up.
"Hey," Harry said, voice unsure. The dread started to curdle thicker in Sansa's stomach.
"Hey," she murmured back. "Are you on the train?" There was a heavy moment of silence, then -
"No, I didn't get on the train. I'm not coming."
Sansa slowly sat down in the wooden chair at the office's messy desk.
"What do you mean you're not coming?" She whispered.
"I think, maybe, this thing between us means more to you than it does to me. I'm just, I'm not ready to meet your whole family. We've only been dating for six months."
Sansa blinked repeatedly. Was six months not very long? She was sure things were starting to get serious between them, hence why she'd invited him to spend Christmas with her family in Winterfell. They each had a key to one another's apartments.
"Um, okay," she frowned down at her lap, fiddling with her nails. "When- when were you going to tell me this? Because I've just been sat here waiting -"
"I know, I'm sorry. I should have called."
"Yeah, you should have," Sansa muttered, her pent up anxiety over the last few days quickly turning into anger. She ran a hand through her long, red hair, sweeping it back from her face. Harry wasn't coming. He didn't think their relationship was anything serious. He'd decided not to come, he let Sansa go alone, and then didn't even bother to call to let her know. "You don't think we're serious?" She asked, wishing she had brought her wine into the office with her. She could really do with a drink.
"I - are we?" Harry sounded exasperated at the other end of the call. "I've been seeing someone else."
Sansa went deadly still. She had suspected, on some level, but had chosen to ignore the little clues. The way Harry sometimes disappeared, and she wouldn't be able to get hold of him. The rumours she'd heard about him before they started dating. The strange messages she'd seen on his instagram, not to mention some of the accounts he followed. But she had ignored the signs, because that's what she's always done. She turns her cheek to the little things, the alarm bells, and chooses blissful ignorance. She never *learns*.
"Who?" Sansa asked, her voice icy cold. She was genuinely surprised by the venom in her tone, and that 'who' had been the first thing out of her mouth. Not 'what the hell do you mean', not 'for how long', or 'why?' Why am I not enough? Why am I *never* enough?
"Saffron, from work," Harry answered, and he didn't sound the least bit guilty. Harry and Sansa worked at the same publishing firm in the Vale - it's how they'd met a year ago. Saffron was a receptionist on the floor below Sansa's, where Harry's office was. Sansa saw her regularly, but she'd never really liked the woman. She decidedly liked her even less now.
She was suddenly hit with a whirlwind of horrible thoughts. Did everyone at the office know Harry had been stringing her along, that he had been seeing Saffron as well? Were they all laughing about it behind her back? Poor, stupid Sansa Stark.
Sansa's free hand curled into a fist, her nails biting into her palm. At this point, she just felt so very, very tired.
"Right. Well," she took a deep breath in and let it out through her nose. "Merry Christmas. Don't bother calling me," she spat the words out, the well-wishes dripping with sarcasm, and hung up. She heard a muffled "Sansa" from the phone before she ended the call.
Feeling strangely numb, but with her hands still shaking, she turned her phone off and shoved it to the bottom of her purse. Sure, she could block Harry's number, but turning the thing off entirely seemed the easiest option for now. Besides, she'd have to face him back at work eventually. But that was After Christmas Sansa's problem, not her's; she refused to dwell on it for the time being. She gathered her bearings, suddenly terrified at the thought of Jon's boss or someone else walking in and finding her there, and quickly left the office.
Jon was waiting for her in the small walkway that led back to the bar. She knew he wouldn't have been eavesdropping - that wasn't the kind of person Jon was - he was simply waiting for her, or possibly trying to warn her that someone was coming.
"You okay?" He asked softly, voice low and gravelly. Sansa buried her hands in the pockets of her navy wool coat, trying to hide how they were trembling. She drew in an unsteady breath, staring straight ahead.
"I think I just got dumped," she mumbled, unable to meet Jon's eyes. How embarrassing.
"Three days before Christmas?" Jon asked in disbelief, his eyebrows shooting up high.
"Yeah," she nodded, one hand freeing itself to fiddle with the strap of her purse at her shoulder.
"Well, shit," Jon muttered. "That... sucks. I'm sorry, Sansa."
"It's fine," she waved him off, meeting his gaze for only a second before looking away again. "I guess I sort of did the dumping. He's, um, he's been seeing someone else."
Her eyes darted back to Jon's face; he looked utterly shocked.
"Really?" He breathed. She nodded, words failing her and an uncomfortable tightness in her throat.
"I think I need a stronger drink," she admitted, trying to laugh at herself and failing.
"Sure. How about a whiskey?" Jon suggested, gesturing to the bar.
"Whiskey sounds great," Sansa sighed, wiping her hand over her brow. They walked back to the bar, Sansa leading the way after Jon held a hand out for her to pass him, and she crossed over to the other side, this time sitting on a stool closer to the centre where the beer taps were. She wouldn't have to be so far away from Jon that way.
Jon placed a glass tumbler down in front of her and started to pour amber liquid into it. He poured a double without her even having to ask.
"On the house," he said with a small smile.
"Oh, no, Jon, you don't have to - "
"I insist. It's actually our 'Unexpected Christmas Breakup' policy," he said, very seriously.
That surprised a laugh out of her - a tiny, breathy thing, but a laugh all the same.
"Thank you," she smiled, and it wasn't one she had to force. Jon's answering smile was wider, and brighter than the Christmas lights. "And thank you for letting me use the office. I only realised after the phone call that I could have gotten you in trouble for that."
"Nah, Mormont's cool. He wouldn't have cared. But if there was a problem, I could've told him that you're a Stark and he wouldn't have questioned a thing."
Sansa chuckled and rolled her eyes at that. Of course, everyone in Wintertown knew and loved the Starks. Growing up, Sansa had sometimes felt like being a Stark was like being royalty, at least in the north. Her dad was a former congressman, after all, whom most of the north were fiercely proud of for what he had achieved for them.
The whiskey was starting to make Sansa feel pleasantly light and warm; she felt more relaxed now than she had in days. She looked around the pub, only just noticing how quiet it was.
"Not many people here tonight," Sansa murmured. She looked up at Jon as he also glanced around the area.
"Well, it is a Tuesday night," he smirked. "This place will be absolutely packed on Christmas Eve. You should see how busy it gets. Thankfully, I'll be at your parents' and not stuck here working," he exhaled, as if content with that, and leaned down, resting his weight on his forearms against the bar.
Sansa had only been mildly surprised to discover Jon would be spending Christmas at her parents' house; apparently, her mum, dad and siblings still saw Jon as family. He'd spent the past two Christmases with them, since he'd moved back to Wintertown after working as a nature researcher beyond the Wall for four years.
"When are you heading over there?" Sansa asked, taking another sip of her drink. Her white wine spritzer from earlier had been abandoned, but that was probably for the best; she had left it unattended for some time.
"Tomorrow, after my shift," Jon smiled again, this one creasing his eyes at the corners. It was quite a lovely smile.
"Me too. Tomorrow, I mean," she said after another small sip. The whiskey burning her throat was strangely soothing.
An older man with grey hair approached the bar then, asking for a refill of his pint. Jon and Sansa put their conversation on hold while Jon served and chatted with the man for a bit. Sansa didn't mind watching him work.
Over the years, Jon had become somewhat ruggedly handsome. Not the usual type of man Sansa would go for, but he was undeniably attractive, with long, dark curly hair tied back in a bun, slate grey eyes, full lips and a well-kept beard. He had a scar over one eye and some small ones across his hands and forearms. He was wearing a maroon flannel shirt, unbuttoned, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a black tee underneath and faded black jeans, paired with some black hiking boots. Yes, Jon was quite nice to look at, his frame tall and lean, and Sansa's gaze was momentarily transfixed by the muscles in his forearm as he poured a beer from the tap, pulling the large lever down.
Then, she remembered Harry and how her night - and pretty much her entire life - had been thrown into complete disaster. Sansa was mortified with herself for ogling her brother's childhood best friend when she'd just been dumped. She suppressed a groan and rubbed at her eyes, grateful she'd only applied a bit of waterproof mascara.
"You alright, sweetheart? Pretty girl like you shouldn't look so troubled."
Sansa looked up, startled. It was the older man who'd come to the bar; he'd turned to look at Sansa, giving her a drunken smile. She tried not to wince.
"Off with you, Davos," Jon laughed, shaking his head. The man, Davos, got up and raised his hands in mock-surrender; he gave Sansa a wink before walking away, swaying slightly as he went. "Sorry about that. He's harmless, really," Jon said softly, returning to his spot in front of Sansa.
"It's fine," she shook her head. She'd been hit on by plenty of creepy older men in her life. Not that she thought this Davos was a creep, per se, but she certainly wasn't in the mood to deal with some random old man telling her she should smile.
"You said you're staying at the Reeds' bed and breakfast?" Jon asked after a moment, folding then refolding a tea towel.
"Yeah. It's really nice there. Howland is still as kind as ever," Sansa nodded.
"My shift's over in ten minutes. I can drive you back, if you want?" He offered, studying her. Then his eyes dropped down to her nearly-empty glass. "You need some water with that? I forgot how much of a lightweight you used to be."
"I'm fine," Sansa scoffed. "I can handle my whiskey. I'm not eighteen anymore," she scowled, which made Jon chuckle. She quite liked making him laugh; it had been rare for him to even crack a smile, at least for her, when they were younger. "But yes, a lift would be much appreciated. Thank you."
Gilly, another employee at the lodge who Sansa had met the night before, came in not long after to relieve Jon of his shift. Gilly was engaged to Jon's friend, Sam, Sansa had been told.
"Sorry I'm late! Little Sam is teething again," Gilly said by way of greeting, moving to hang up her scarf and coat on the rack behind the bar. Sansa liked Gilly; she seemed honest, up-front and very no-nonsense with her words, nothing at all like Sansa's 'friends' in King's Landing and the Vale.
Gilly had been somewhat cold and suspicious toward Sansa when they'd met the night before, but she'd quickly warmed up to her after Jon had said Sansa was 'like family'.
"Little Sam?" Sansa asked curiously, as Jon slipped off to the office to grab his things.
"My son," Gilly explained with a broad smile. "He's eight months," she added, then pulled her phone from her pocket to show Sansa a photo. Sansa made an utterly pathetic sound at the podgy-cheeked, blue-eyed baby staring back at her through the screen.
"Oh, he's gorgeous!" She cooed, feeling like her heart was melting into goo in her chest.
"Have you got kids?" Gilly asked, tucking her phone away again. Sansa felt her heart sink, now heavy as a stone; a lump caught in her throat. She had the strangest urge to cry.
"No," she shook her head. "Nothing like that for me yet."
All Sansa had was a long string of terrible relationships. She wasn't anywhere near close to having children, something she'd always wanted for herself some day. The sudden breakup with Harry felt like she'd been knocked several steps back.
"You okay?" Gilly murmured, her brown eyes studying Sansa with concern.
Sansa sighed, finished her whiskey, and grimaced. She'd *almost* forgotten about the breakup. Jon hadn't asked her any questions about it, which was nice, but it had come back to her with crushing weight.
"Bit of a rough night," Sansa admitted, staring at her empty glass glumly. "My six-month relationship just sort of crashed and burned around me. My boyfriend - or ex now, I guess - was meant to be coming here with me. He's been seeing another woman and I feel like the biggest idiot in the world."
"Oh," Gilly said, with her face scrunched up like she'd tasted something sour. "That's shit. You're not an idiot, Sansa. He sounds like a right wanker."
Sansa laughed despite herself.
"Yeah, I guess he is, a bit. He forgot my birthday two months ago. I don't think he was ever a good boyfriend, not really," Sansa confessed miserably. Jon returned at that point, ready to leave with his coat, scarf and a burgundy knitted bobble-hat on. He looked silly and adorable all bundled up.
"Ready?" He asked. Sansa nodded and rose to stand.
"I'm heading to my parents' tomorrow," she told Gilly with a sad smile. "So I don't think I'll be coming back here. But it was really nice meeting you."
Gilly looked just as disappointed as Sansa felt, which was surprising. They'd only met the previous night. Maybe real friendship was as rare for Gilly as it was for Sansa.
"Oh. It was nice to meet you, too," Gilly mumbled, making a start on polishing some wine glasses.
"Have a good Christmas, Gilly," Sansa beamed with a final wave.
"You too," Gilly gave her small smile. "See you tomorrow, Jon."
"See you, Gil."
It was absolutely freezing outside, the cold wind nipping their cheeks and snowflakes catching in Sansa's hair. She was starting to feel sluggish as she followed Jon to his car. She wasn't sure if it was exhaustion, the night's events, or the whiskey taking its toll, but she felt dead on her feet.
She climbed into the passenger seat after Jon opened the door for her, feeling understandably low. She turned to face the window and nestled her cheek against the headrest. Jon climbed into the driver's side, starting the engine and flicking the heat on to full blast. He pulled off his hat, and he must have taken the tie out of his hair, for his inky black curls spilled out wildly.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked quietly, as he pulled the car out of its parking space and began the drive. "The breakup, I mean."
"I don't know," Sansa murmured, keeping her gaze on the window. The colourful Christmas lights filling the streets around them started to blur as her vision became unfocused.
"You don't seem, um," Jon fumbled for a second. "You don't seem very upset. I mean, you haven't cried, or anything."
"I don't know if it's really sunk in yet," she admitted. She shifted in her seat to look out the windshield instead, now able to glance at Jon from her peripheral. "I just... I feel so stupid."
"You're not stupid," Jon said immediately, voice firm.
"I am a bit stupid. My romantic relationships have been... disasters." And that was putting it mildly, especially if she was counting Joffrey - her first boyfriend, back in college. "I can't tell you how many times I've thought I finally had a boyfriend I could bring home to meet my family, only for it to blow up in my face."
Jon gave a low, rumbling hum in understanding.
"That's not your fault," he said softly. "If they've - they let you down or cheated on you or -" he shook his head. "That's their fault, their own stupidity, their failings - not yours."
Sansa definitely felt the urge to cry now. She didn't think she'd ever heard Jon talk this much, and his words were so kind. Her eyes burned and she sniffled before she could stop herself. "Oh," Jon muttered, glancing over at her. "I've done it now. I'm sorry."
"No, no," she shook her head and wiped her tears away. "Thank you, Jon. That was - that was really nice of you to say."
"Well, it's true," he said with a shrug. "I, er, I can sort of relate, I guess. My past relationships haven't been... great."
"Oh?" Sansa mumbled, digging a fresh tissue out of her purse to dab at her eyes and nose.
"Robb says I have a habit of dating exclusively toxic women," Jon chuckled mirthlessly.
"Oh," Sansa frowned. She remembered then, Jon's girlfriends from before she'd left for college in King's Landing. "Well I hate the stereotype of 'toxic women', you know - how some men say their ex-girlfriends are crazy or whatever. But yours are... particularly awful," she winced. "The ones I met, anyway."
First there was Ygritte, Jon's girlfriend throughout most of high school; then there was Daenerys, who he'd dated in his first year of college. Both had been horrible. They were always putting Jon down, with insults and threats thinly veiled behind 'jokes', and sometimes without the veil at all. They'd both seemed to hate Sansa for simply existing. It had led to a few awkward interactions. In the beginning, Sansa tried to be nice, but she'd soon stopped bothering when it became clear neither women would ever try and be civil with her.
Jon let out a some sort of half-groan, half-laugh.
"Yeah, the few after weren't much better," he confessed. "But your exes don't sound much like peaches either. Arya mentioned your college boyfriend once. He sounded..."
Jon's voice filtered away as Sansa stiffened, drifting into a hazy panic at the mention of Joffrey. Had Arya told Jon? Had she told their family? Gods, Sansa didn't think she could bear it if anyone knew. Memories of that night started to flash through her mind and she squeezed her eyes closed, trying to remember how to breathe.
"Sans?" Jon's voice cut through the fog. Sansa blinked repeatedly, returning to her body.
"Hmm? Sorry. What were you saying?"
"Nothing," Jon brushed it off, shaking his head; his eyes darted between her and the road. "It doesn't matter. You okay?"
"Yeah," she lied with a single nod, staring straight ahead. They settled into awkward silence for a moment. Then, feeling utterly drained, Sansa whispered, "Why do we do it to ourselves, do you think? Get into relationships with terrible people."
Jon tapped his fingers against the steering wheel.
"My friend Sam would probably say something along the lines of feelings of inadequacy, low self-esteem. Thinking we deserve to be treated that way. Something like that," he said with a self-deprecating smile.
"Your friend Sam might be on to something. Psychology major?" Sansa forced herself to chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.
"How'd you guess?" Jon laughed, but it sounded hollow. They pulled up outside the Reed's bed and breakfast then - it was only a ten-minute drive from the town centre - and Jon slowed the car to a stop.
"Right, well -" Sansa made herself sound cheery, but Jon cut her off.
"How are you getting to your folks' place tomorrow?" He asked abruptly, just as Sansa was reaching for the door handle.
"Oh, um," she opened and closed her mouth. Stupid girl. Harry had wanted to rent a car when he got here, so they could do some sightseeing before heading to her parents' house. Sansa hadn't bothered renting one herself. Why hadn't she? She'd been travelling by bus so far. "I guess I'll be getting a taxi."
Jon turned to her, frowning.
"That'll cost a fortune. I could drive you, if - if you want? I mean, I'm driving there anyway," he tripped over his words, seeming suddenly nervous.
"Oh, Jon, you've already done so much for me -"
"I haven't," he scoffed.
"- and I really don't want to give you anymore trouble. It's an hour car ride - I wouldn't want to impose," Sansa babbled, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. Jon blinked at her, frowning harder, and turned fully to look at her.
"It's not a problem, Sansa - at all. I live just 'round the corner from here. You don't currently have a car. I've got to make the journey anyway. You haven't caused me any trouble, and it wouldn't be an imposition."
Sansa studied Jon's face for a long moment, first feeling sceptical, then slowly - surprisingly - hopeful.
"Are you sure?" She bit her lip, her eyes flitting between his grey ones. Jon's frown, finally, started to smooth out into a soft smile.
"I'm sure," he nodded. "But Ghost is coming with me, so he'll be along for the ride. Are you alright with dogs? He's good in the car."
"I love dogs," Sansa felt the tension in her face split into a smile. She'd forgotten about Ghost and the other dogs she had yet to meet at her parents' house.
"Okay," Jon grinned. "Great. I finish work at four tomorrow. I'll go home after, grab my stuff and Ghost, and we'll head over here to pick you up. Probably around half past?"
"Yeah, okay," Sansa beamed; there was a pleasant warmth unfurling in her chest. "If - if you're sure it's not a problem, I mean. I'd really appreciate it."
"Not a problem," Jon shook his head, still smiling, his gaze warm. Sansa suddenly felt a bizarre sense of longing; she quickly squashed it down.
"I'll see you tomorrow, then," she said, checking she had her purse, phone, wallet and her room key for the B&B.
"Yeah. Tomorrow," Jon agreed as Sansa climbed out of the car.
"Thanks for everything, Jon," she smiled once more, ready to close the door.
"Good night, Sansa," Jon murmured, eyes intent on her face.
"Good night," she echoed, just as softly.
After what felt like an eternity, she closed the passenger door and headed into the bed and breakfast. She was aware of Jon waiting until she was safely inside the old, stone building before he drove away.
As Sansa headed up to her room, she couldn't help but think - 'Maybe this Christmas won't be so bad after all.'