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Is Where the Heart Is

Ghost was sitting by her feet, never too far away from her reach. Her sewing in her lap as she worked on mending one of Jon’s tunics. The fire in her solar, was nice and comforting. Stone walls of Winterfell surrounded her, as she sat doing her task. Ten moons had passed since they returned home from Kings Landing. Arya came back to them, a different person, but she was safe and home. Nymeria followed right along at her side. Rickon followed two moons after she. Shaggydog scaring a couple of guards before Rickon even appeared to them. He preferred not to speak as much about his travels, similar to Arya. But he did preferring hunting with Jon or to learn new fighting techniques. Never failing to come home almost covered in mud from head to toe. And Jon, well, he was either with Maester Samwell or anywhere Sansa wasn’t.

Since their wedding day, Jon has not laid a hand on her. Never came to her room asking to take his claim. The only time he would show any contact would be when it supposed to be seen. Simple contact, nothing more than a peck on her cheek, in the presence of other Lords and Ladies, that had come to see Winterfell rebuilt, to prove that everything was going strong in the North once more. Sansa heard the whispers when she would come into a room. Rickon was considered the heir of Winterfell, but it was the realm that truly needed an heir. Daenerys fears of her being unable to bear a child have seem almost proven as she enters into her later years. Aegon and her marriage has not been fruitful in their need for a child. In the end, the Targaryen line must have an heir, and Jon’s children will be put on the throne if the worst is truly to fear. If only Jon had children to speak of.

A knock on the her solar door drowned out her thoughts of children and Jon, as she called for who ever disturbed her to come in. Gilly, the woman in charge of her in Kings Landing, walked in. She had a small smile on her face, with a sadden look in her eyes. Sansa knew right away that she had overheard another rumor forming around Sansa and Jon’s marriage.

“What is it Gilly?” She said putting her sewing down. A look of hurt coming over her face.

“I wasn’t suppose to over hear this. But a letter came from her Grace.” Gilly went over and took a seat on the chair next to Sansa. Reaching over, Sansa enclasped her hand over the poor girls.

“Go on Gilly.”

“Well, the letter was talking about the rumors. It seems some how they have also spread down to her Grace’s ear. That Jon does not find you, fitting, enough to bare his children. And I don’t know if she truly means this, but Sam and Jon started fighting when, in the letter, it mentioned him getting a second wife.” She stuttered out. Looking down at her lap. “I don’t think her Grace really meant it. I do believe that part was a second letter from Jon’s brother Aegon.” Sansa stood up from her chair and walked over to her window. Ghost followed her, seemingly knowing she felt ill. “Also, apparently one of the handmaidens sisters, in Kings landing, wrote to ask her, if its true what Aegon announced publicly in court. How he believes Jon should take a second wife, for the good of the realm.” Quickly adding everything she truly knew.

“Is it true Gilly? Does Jon find me ill fitting?” She said just barely above a whisper. Sansa’s eyes looked over the training yard. Watching Arya teach Rickon how to swing a sword properly. Jon was watching them, giving helpful hints when necessary. Deep grey eyes focused on the task at hand.

“I do not know milady. My sam doesn’t speak to me about those matters.” She said standing. Sansa held back tears as the thought came to her.

“Do you know, if Jon has.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “If Jon has found someone else that he finds-” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Her mind racing of the pretty faces of the young maidens that were less damaged than she, filtered into her thoughts.

“Jon would never do such a thing. Hes to honorable.” Gilly tried to comfort the girl. The attachment she grew with in Kings landing, only strengthened over their journey to Winterfell.

“On our wedding night, he couldn’t even look at me.” She said, a teardrop falling from her eyes. Sansa just peered at her husband from the window. Not seemingly knowing that anything was wrong. Ghost whimpered as he nudged his head against her hip. Looking down, at the pure White direwolf, she gave him a quick kiss.

“Ghost to Jon.” She said. Ghost seemed to have understand her, because he started to pad his way over to door. Disappearing in the shadows of the corridors. Turning to Gilly, she gave a soft smile. “Gilly, will you please tell the cooks, to not make me supper. I’m simply not hungry. You don’t need to come tonight either. I can put myself to bed just find.” She said with a sad smile. Gilly recognized that smile from Kings Landing.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Gilly whispered as she walked to the door. Head bowed, in a look of shameful.

“I was the one who asked you Gilly, there is nothing for you to be ashamed about.” Sansa answered with a slight comforting tone in her voice. When she knew Gilly was down the hall, and out of earshot, she ran over to the door, locking herself in, and others out. Suddenly feeling very tired, she walked over to her windows to let the drapes down, when she wanted to just look at Jon one last time for the day. Sansa watched as Ghost padded over to Jon. Jon looked at his direwolf with a questionable furrow of his brows. Raising his head, his eyes connected with Sansas blue Tully eyes. She couldn’t help but quickly close the curtains at the sudden look of worry on Jon’s face, as she let out a sob. The shame of failure washed over her. Growing up she had treated him badly, and seemly cold. And now, she was failing him as a wife. What was worse than her just knowing, even Queen Daenerys knows it as well. All because Sansa wanted to go home. And now, she is failing Jon. Keeping him from others, who he would deem fit to bare his children, all because of her selfish needs and selfish feelings.

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Rickon was getting his ass handed to him by Arya as she blocked every thrust, and lunge Jon had taught Rickon. Arya seemed to always best Jon as well, if he was being truthful. Her actions in Braavos were never questioned, but it seems that she learned more deadly weaponry than Jon had been taught fighting the Others at the wall.

Jon felt Ghosts’ presences before he could see him. Silent as he was since the first day he found him, Jon watched as Ghost trotted his way over to his side. Looking over at him, Jon knew something was amiss. When he was in the training yard, he told Ghost to stay with Sansa, so that she knew she was always safe here. Peering up at Sansas window, her chamber that over looks the training yard, he catches a glimpse of her eyes peering down at him with such sadness. This puzzled Jon. The only thing she ever wanted when they spent time in Kings Landing was to go home. To go back to Winterfell. But now, as soon as she saw him make eye contact, her cheeks grew almost as red as her hair, and he thought he saw her crying, right before she roughly pulled the drapes closed.

“Jon? You gonna stand there all day?” Arya’s voice rang, as she kicked Rickon in his stomach, shoving him to the ground. “You have to be ready for anything.” She said sternly to him. Rickon nodded as he got back up on his feet.

“Thats enough for today. We keep this up, Sansa will have a fit if we are late for supper, again.” He said, trying to keep his worry out of their minds. Both just came to back Winterfell, and they do not need more heavy thoughts on their consciousness. Everyone lost too much already.

Jon made his way into Winterfall's’ keep, quickly leaving the other two behind. The stone walls, echoed with his footsteps as he made his way to Lady Sansa’s Chambers. Ultimately he knows he has been trying to avoid her. Dreading the awkward shameful feeling he gets every time he looks upon her. How on their wedding night, he took his claim. But not the way he still thinks about her. Many moons have passed since their wedding night, but the only thing he can think about when it comes to his dutiful wife, is how he really just wants to take her, and show her what it means to be truly loved. to know the kindness of a mans touch, than the lustful, unkind, acts she was shown since leaving the safe haven that was Winterfell. But he can’t stop picturing her, every time he tries to get the courage to tell her what he wants, the way she froze. Her nails digging into his shoulders, the way her eyes never met his. The shame that filled him after, when she turned her back to him when it finished. Her shift and his tunic still hung on their bodies.

As he rounded the corner to head towards her chambers, he saw Gilly and Sam talking in hush tones and voices. He didn’t think much of it, until Sam spoke.

“You told Lady Sansa what?” He whispered-yelled. Jon quickly hid behind the stone wall. Knowing that both would not tell him if he asked directly. Not the full details he would want.

“She wanted to hear the rumors Sam. Milady is lonely and sad. Her Grace has been sending ravens, and Lady Sansa wanted to know what they were about.” Gilly whispered-yelled. These two were not good at keeping quiet, Jon thought as he pressed his body closer to the wall. What Rumors were they talking about. He hasn’t heard anything. Just his Aunt Dany, asking for nieces and nephews as she always did.

“She wants to know Sam. You know Milord Jon better than anyone here. Are the rumors true? Has he found someone else?” Her voice was taking on a desperate tone. Gilly had felt very protective over Sansa as she took care of her, when she was sick. Jon furrowed his eyebrows at that. Someone else…

“Jon would never do that!” Sam defended his honor. Mentally thanking Sam. True, Jon broke vows, but he has never thought about breaking one he made to Sansa.

“Well than, why has he not been with her since the wedding huh? The handmaidens and every bloody hell serving girl in this god forsaken castle are saying that Milord Jon does not think his wife, Milady Sansa, is fitting enough to bare the future King of the seven kingdoms.” Gilly hissed out. “They all are taking bets on which lady from where ever, will be his second wife, as his brother Prince Aegon had put it so mildly in the high court. In front of the lords and ladies of the realm.”

“How do you know all this?” Sam asked.

“May have heard a certain boy talking. You like to read out loud in the library Sam.” She said poking him in the chest. Jon stepped out, seemingly heard enough. The thought of hurting Sansa in that way, made his blood boil.

“I will never take a second wife.” Jon seethed out. Sam and GIlly spun around to look at him. His eyes set in stone. The same look Sam recognized from the wall, when Jon was Lord Commander, before the Knights Watch was disbanded.

“Milord!” Gilly said bowing a little. Ghost suddenly appeared beside him. Looking almost as menacing.

“Where is she?” He asked sternly.

“Shes in her room Milord. Asked me to tell the cook she wasn’t hungry.” Gilly responded in a small voice. Jon took up the stairs and quickly made his way over to Sansa’s chamber door. Pounding his fists on the door.

“My lady.” He said loudly. A rustling of movements where heard through the thick wood. Her soft footsteps hurrying over to the door. The noise of the latch, was moved and she stood there with a shawl over her night shift.

“My lord. I’m sorry I wasn’t expecting you, please come in, excuse my appearance.” She said, blushing as she pulled the shawl around her tighter. Once Sansa shut her door, Jon clutched her face in between his hands, planting a deep kiss on her soft lips. Taken aback by the sudden affection, Sansa stood still for a couple of seconds, and when he was about to pull away, she chased after his lips trying to keep them on hers. His emotions leading up until this point over taking him. Every since his marriage night with Sansa, she was the one he pictured in his dreams. The tender way she kissed him, the way he enjoyed the feel of her squirm underneath his touch. Shame had filled him the next day from taking his claim. She had frozen, when he went to remove her shift, leaving him unable to do so. Her body was rigid, and the way she tried to keep tears in, as he was moving inside her, made him determined to never return to her chambers as long as she wished it so. So not once since returning from Kings Landing, as he called upon her to take his claim. Damn duty, if it meant forcing his wife into bearing a child she wished did not exist. Hes known the feeling of a woman who wishes a child was never even born. Never wanting his own to go through that.

But then, here she was, pressing her lips back onto his. Gripping his black jerkin between her fingers tightly, as he clutched his hands in her long red hair. The silky feeling of it, almost made him groan, and just from the touch. Jon pulled away, and stared at her eyes. Red was rimmed around her blue tully orbs. Indicated his suspicions about her crying before being true.

“Why did you do that?” Sansa asked, not loosening her hold on his jerkin in the slightest.

“Why were you crying, my Lady?” Jon pondered back to her, trying to avoid the reason why. His stomach tightened, at his reasons why. Sansas eyes darted down looking off into the distance. Removing her hold on him, Jon felt obligated to do the same, but neither moved from the closeness of their stances.

“It was a ridiculous reason. I shouldn’t have cried over it.” She said, finally breaking free from the gravitational hold they had towards each other. Sansa walked over to her bed, and sat on the edge of it.

“Nothing is ridiculous if it has upset you, My lady.” Jon said, still using terms.

“The queen sent me a letter, a couple of moons past. Wondering when I would be expecting my first child.” Sansa said, through tears. “A handmaiden had read the letter. And Two nights ago, I overheard the servants in the kitchen, talking.” She stopped, looked away, turning to stare at the fire. “I heard them speaking of yourself my lord.” Sansa finished with a silent sigh. “They were reading a letter out loud, that a high court handmaiden had sent her sister, who is one of Arya's handmaidens. It was speaking about how Prince Aegon, had told the court how you, my Lord, should take a second wife, like your father-” Before Sansa could finish the rest of her sentence, Jon had taken two long steps and had grabbed her face, bring his lips crashing to hers, in a passionate kiss. It was a short. But it made its point.

“I will Never take a second wife Sansa.” He said using her name. The way her name rolled off of his tongue made her quiver at the sensation.

“But-”

“I do not find you ill fitting to bear my children.” Her eyes widened at his statement. “You are the only one, since our wedding. And you will be my only one, until I die. I promise you this. We may not have started this for love, but you’ve shown me a woman, I can’t help but fall in love with. I love you Sansa.” He spoke simply. Hoping that she would understand the truth in his words.

“I’ve been a horrible wife.”

“How so?” He asked with a slight smile. “The way you fuss over Rickon? How all of my clothes are always mended? That this great house runs smoothly? I do not see any faults that you present to me Sansa.” He said, placing a hand on her cheek. He was a head taller than her. His eyes shined with mirth at his slight teasing.

“Jon.” She said, looking at her hands. A small smile gracing her lips. “I’m damaged.” She said, lifting her hand to place it gently on her shoulder. The scars on her back seemed to be searing through.

“Aren’t we all? To me, you're not damaged. You're everything I could have ever wanted. Winterfell, the north, the gods woods. Truly these are just places. But you to me. You are my home Sansa. Sansa, you have my heart, for as long as it beats. My lady, you are my home.” He spoke, placing a kiss on her lips. As they pulled away, Sansa moved a lock of his curls out of his face.

“And you are my home Jon. My heart is with you.” Her words rang true as the simple lock of their kiss sealing their words till the end of time.