#jonsafanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amymel86 · 6 years

Text

Baby-Daddy - chapter 3

Two months later….

Even though he knew it was coming, he still felt the jolt of shock. Him and Ygritte had had another row last night and said not one word to each other in the morning before separately heading off to work. Jon stopped at the breakfast diner to meet with Sansa as usual on a Wednesday. She could tell that something had been troubling him but he waved her off, not really wanting to recount the stupid things that both he and his girlfriend had said the evening before.

But now…well now she wasn’t even his girlfriend any more. Jon looked down at the note in his hand. He should have expected it. And yet he felt a dull ache all the same.

Jon,

I am sorry. I truly am. Sorry that I am telling this to you in the form of a note – but if I put this off any longer, I may not be able to muster the courage to do it to your face. This is for the best, Jon. You know it, and I know it. Both of us have been drifting in different directions for the past year and a half, and I don’t think either of us have the energy left to try and get back to where we were at the beginning of the relationship.

Perhaps you’ll prove me wrong. Perhaps you’ll run after me and promise that we can both make changes to get back to how we used to be. But I don’t think so. And I’m not even sure if I would want you to.

I don’t blame you, and I hope that you don’t place fault at me either. I think that maybe, when we found each other 3 years ago, we were both searching for an everlasting love and were too quick to label what we had under the same category.

We are both very different people. We knew that from the beginning. But instead of our opposite qualities complimenting each other like I had thought they might, we were clashing – quietly sometimes, but we did.

I will always love you, Jon Snow. But it’s not enough.

Jon read and re-read the letter. Their apartment looked practically bare. Ygritte must have come back from work in the morning to pack up all her things. There was nothing of her now. Even the photographs of them both had been taken by her, framed by her and hung up on the walls by her – why shouldn’t she have taken them? She had vanished completely. Jon deliberated with himself but eventually send a text message.

I read your note and I understand. I am sorry too. Please at least let me know that you are somewhere safe?

Jon went to the fridge to get a beer, almost snickering mirthlessly to find that Ygritte had made him a whole lasagne and left it in there for him. Sansa had tipped her off early in their relationship that it was his favourite, so she cooked it for him often – when he’d had a bad day at work, after they’d had a row, or if she had something special planned for them that evening. Jon didn’t have the heart to tell her that he prefers the way Sansa cooks it. He pulled out a bottle and popped the cap, taking a swig before his phone buzzed with Ygritte’s answering text.

I’m with my cousin Tormund at Blackcastle. I don’t think I’ll need to come back for anything but please can you forward my mail? I am currently making plans to go travelling for a bit. I hope you find happiness, Jon. I will always hope that for you.

Jon placed his bear on the kitchen counter and typed out a reply.

Yes, I can do that. And I hope you find what you’re looking for too, Yg. I will miss you.

He read his short text back to himself. It was true – he will miss her, but he couldn’t help but feel that part of him was a little lighter now that the decision had been made. Shame flooded him for being a bloody coward and leaving it up to Ygritte to be the one to make the move.

Jon sighed and took up his beer again, wandering out to the little table in the hallway where he had seen Ygritte had placed his mail. He flipped through the envelopes, mentally counting off “bill, bank statement, bill, bill,” until he came to a pale blue envelope with baby pink spots. Jon furrowed his brow, it felt like a card, but it wasn’t his birthday for another 6 months or so. It was addressed to both Ygritte and himself and by the looks of it, she had opened it and stuffed whatever it was back inside the envelope, deeming it being primarily for Jon and not herself.

“What the fuck?” he muttered as he slid out the card from within, dozens of fluttering bits of pink and blue confetti falling to cover his feet. He did a double-take at the scraps on the floor – they were shaped like little tadpoles and his brain was too slow to connect the dots. He opened the card to read it.

SOMEONE’S GETTING KNOCKED UP!

To Jon and Yg!

You are invited to come help celebrate with Sansa Stark at her insemination party on Friday!...

The card carried on with the usual invitation spiel - Sansa’s apartment address and how to get there, what time etc. Jon stared blankly at the words for what must have been a solid two minutes before looking back down at the confetti sperm at his feet. He whipped out his phone and made a call to Sansa.

“I know what you’re going to say,” she answered instantly without a single greeting or prompt from himself, “and you can blame Margaery for it all. It was her idea.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes!” she huffed on the other end of the line, “I tracked my charts and mentioned to her that I think I’m ovulating soon, and she had this crazy idea for an insemination party…and I just thought ‘what the heck’! Why not? It’s not like I’m doing any of this the conventional way anyway.”

This was all too much information at once to Jon. It doesn’t seem like five minutes ago he was helping her dissect those donor files, trying to route out each candidate’s possible flaws – and now she’s casually throwing out words like ovulation and insemination? Jon pinched the bridge of his nose. What had she said again? She tracked charts? Is that what was making her so damned eager to rush ahead with this? “You tracked your charts?” he said dumbly down the phone.

“Yeah. My monthly cycle, my basal temperature and my-“ Sansa paused to cough, “-cervical mucus.”

“Oh wow, I really did not need to know about that,” Jon responded quickly, his brows sky high.

Sansa laughed. “Well you asked…honestly, it’s serious stuff this baby-making business, you know.”

“Yeah. It’s not like these things happen by accident all the time” he said dryly

“Har-har. So, are you coming to the party?”

“I guess so,” Jon looked around his empty apartment with the phone pressed to his ear, he debated quickly with himself as to whether or not to tell her about Ygritte but decided not to pierce her bubble of happiness. Knowing Sansa, she might postpone the party or something in favour of comforting him, and he just didn’t want to do that to her right now. He did feel a little lonely though. “Hey, can I crash at yours afterwards? I’ll help clean up and we can nurse each other’s hangovers on the couch like the good ol’ times back when-“

“I’d love to do that Jon…but do you really wanna stick around for the ‘after’ part?” Sansa said, interrupting the spew of words that were getting away from him in his eagerness of his own nostalgic idea.

“The after part?” Jon asked, confused.

“Yeah, the…insemination.”

Jon blinked down at the invitation still in his hand. “Insemination?”

“Jon, what exactly did you think an ‘insemination party’ was?”

“Something completely made up,” he admitted. “Honestly, Sans – I thought we were just celebrating your fertility and-and ovulation or whatever hippy notion Marge is peddling at the moment. I never thought you’d-….at your apartment?! So soon?! Is that even safe?!” Jon spluttered, feeling utterly aghast.

“First of all, Jonathan,” Sansa started in that tone she used when she thought he was overreacting to something, “it’s completely safe. Dickon’s brother and sister-in-law own their own fertility clinic and are qualified to perform the procedure on me after everyone has left. And secondly, it’s not ‘so soon’ – It’s been two months since you helped me pick the donor and I’ve met with Dickon three times since – we’ve agreed on what would be expected of him and I don’t think any further discussion is needed.”

Jon gaped. The hinge of his jaw working absentmindedly as his mouth opened and closed a few times. Yes – Sansa had met with Dickon, and by her account she couldn’t find any fault with him. She’d asked Jon what sort of questions she should ask him to try and fill in any cracks of information from his donor file. Jon had made a few suggestions but had hoped to actually meet the man in person himself before, before-

“Honestly Jon!” Sansa said, bringing him out of his thoughts, “I just want to hurry up and actually be pregnant instead of talking about it and reading about it and-and…fantasising about it!...is that so hard to understand?” she finished quietly.

Jon swallowed painfully. “No Sansa,” he said softly, “it’s not.”

#jonsa #jon x sansa #jonsaff #jonxsansaff #jonsafanfiction #baby-daddy

26 notes · View notes

a-baleful-howl · 7 years

Text

Chapter 3 of ‘The Lone Wolf Dies’ is Up!

Chapter 3: What Have I Done?

The Lone Wolf Dies (11119 words) by Damdamfino

Chapters: 3/5? (started as a one shot but shit keeps changing!!)

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Major Character Death

Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Jon Snow & Arya Stark

Characters: Jon Snow, Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, Brienne of Tarth, Daenerys Targaryen, Lyanna Mormont, Yohn Royce, Robett Glover, Wyman Manderly, Sandor Clegane, Beric Dondarrion, Bran Stark, Tyrion Lannister, Samwell Tarly

Additional Tags: Post Season 7, Dany bashing

Summary: Post Season 7.

Jon and Daenerys arrive at Winterfell, and it is not the greeting Jon expected. Sansa pokes the Dragon.

What do we say to the god of death?

Not today.

—

This one might be a bit hard to read. I tried toning down a few bits. But remember, the story ain’t over yet! Still have 1-2 more chapters, so stick with me!

#jonsa #jonxsansa #jon x sansa #actuallyjonsa #jonsafanfic #jonsafanfiction #jonxsansaff #jonxsansafanfiction #jonsaff #original #my fics #fanfiction #multi-chap #the lone wolf dies #tlwd #one update per month is actually good for me yo

37 notes · View notes

jeeno2 · 7 years

Note

Jonsa?

He liked more than the wolf bit.

Give me a ship and I’ll reply with a six word story about them.

#sunbeamsandmoonrays #jon x sansa #jonsa #jonsafanfiction #six word fic #oops this has seven words sorry ;)#gotdrabble

88 notes · View notes

aidaaleahim18-blog · 5 years

Text

Duty & Honor

Prologue

Little brother,

I write to you not to ask for permission but rather for council. In the eyes and hearths of the Northern men as in the heart of their queen, Jon the Thargarien has never seized to be a hero. It takes great sorrow for our folk to punish their king on his own Northern lands.

I deem that a banishment of two years as well as our cousin’s burdened heart is enough of a punishment for an act that has probably spared thousands of lives and led to the peace we now enjoy. By the time you will receive this letter, my dear brother, I may be already on the way to the Great Wall. The decision of my Northern Lords just a fortnight ago has been unanimous: “They recognize no King but the one in whose veins runs the blood of the wolf and the dragon. I fear that the minds in the South will not be as unanimous as our North’s but I do trust that with your help the South will come to a wise decision.

Yours truly,

Sansa Stark Queen and Protector of the North

“Well, your grace.” Thyrion said folding the letter h had just finished reading to his king. “I know, I know … you were expecting this. I do not have your foresight gifts but it came to no surprise to me either.”

Bran gave a pensive smile to the King’s Hand. “Well then, you might have at enough time to come up with a solution to it as well.”

The small man opened and closed his mouth right back. He fumbled with his beard, paced a turn or two around the council room and opened his mouth once again, drew in a breath, left it out with a heavy sigh then spoke. “ The wheel have been turning in my head your grace ever since Sansa left the Southern Realm. There was no doubt about it. She had never given up on your bro … cousin. Although far away she watches over you as a mother cares for her cubs.”

“The waters have long settled in Westeros and our lords do seem satisfied with the developments of our realm. I trust your plan will settle their pride as well.”

“ I trust so too your grace. As your sister highlighted, Jon’s actions might have hurt some back then but the results we see today do tell another story.”

Note: my fellow Jonsa shippers as many of you my feel, I could not end this chapter without a true ending for our favorite couple, so here I am. After many years of not writing fanfiction, posting my first ever GOT fanfic story.

I hope you will enjoy and forgive my typo, they might be many :)

#jonsa jonsafanfiction jonsansa Jonsnow sasastark queeninthenorth kinginthenorth gotfanfiction GOTseason8 GOTfinale

3 notes · View notes

inclelucy · 6 years

Text

The Undead Wolf Chapter 3: The Night Queen

AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13484685/chapters/31764618

Summary: Sansa sees a vision that brought her to her knees.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationship: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark

Characters:

Sansa Stark

Jon Snow

Bran Stark

Arya Stark

Daenerys Targaryen

Night King (Game of Thrones)

Melisandre of Asshai

Tyrion Lannister

Ghost (ASoIaF)

Brienne of Tarth

Beric Dondarrion

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Post Season 7

Slow Burn

Stark Family

Eventual Happy Ending

R plus L equals J

Dark Sansa

Sansa will save the Realm's ass

#jonsa #jonsnow #sansastark #actuallyjonsa #jonsafanfiction

0 notes

ladywolfmd · 6 years

Text

We’ve got a thing called radar love

I wanted to do the challenge but I lacked time. :( So I’m entering an old fic of mine. :) This is for @jonsafanfiction‘s 12 Days of Shipping Event : January 3 Bodyguard AU

Summary: Jon Targaryen is the son of Prime Minister Rhaegar Targaryen but he is more famously known as "The Ghost" in the racing world by being three-time champion of the Sprint Cup when he was younger, to going for his sixth-peat for the F1 Grand Prix. In the middle of a race, he was lead to an unauthorized detour as part of a kidnapping scheme that was quickly thwarted but was actually a ruse when the real attempt was when he was en route back to the Red Keep. Lucky for him, his beautiful PA who he's been secretly pinning for has secrets of her own as, to his surprise, Sansa Stark takes charge in leading him to safety as she reveals she's been his bodyguard all along

39/51 Lap

"Jon, keep going, you're almost there. The gap between you and the Brat-theon prick is still there at 9/5th of your time but you can lose him on the 4th turn."

"Copy that Edd."

Jon started slowly decelerating to prepare for the turn, to bait Joffrey Baratheon into charging full speed ahead of him at the sharp turn that curved right then left, wishing he was conceited and stupid enough to take it and lose traction to steer away once he makes the turn.

"The Brat is falling for it! What a dipshit! Make him eat your dust, Jon."

In Jon's peripheral vision, he smirked as he saw the bane of his existence on his Golden Tooth toeing side by side with him when they neared the turn and just as he expected it, just as Jon slowed down, Joffrey's car roared as he pushed it ahead of him to take the curve.

Also as expected since Jon's slow wasn't just anyone's definition of slow, so Joffrey wouldn't be able to turn left in time and he'd head straight off track with the speed he tried to match with his.

Jon grinned when he did exactly that while Edd whooped over the team radio as he started flooring it.

"Wow will you look at that? The Brat's car spun around and--seven hells he's back on track, climbing back from P6 - P5 - Seven hells he's on P3 now and passing Royce for P2. Royce needs to block him so we'd take top two for the Night's watch."

Jon was impressed. The little shit was stubborn and, he hate to admit it, good enough to survive one of the oldest tricks in out-racing. Thank the gods his team-mate Waymar Royce gained speed for P2. He won't let Joffrey pass. There was no way their team was going to let the Gold cloaks win, not after the Crag debacle which was still up for debate.

But this wasn't the time to think about anything other than finishing this race. If he wins this, this would be his sixth consecutive Grand Prix win. He felt the second wind of adrenaline rush through him then as he drove over the mark signaling his completion of his 40th lap.

"Eleven more to go. You and Waymar got this! Joffrey is now down to P5 while Trystane and Daemon are tailing you both at P3 and P4 - wait, oh no Martell just passed Royce. He's hot on your tail - oh for the love of all things holy, where did that little shit come from? Royce and the Bratt are neck-in-neck behind you. Lose them now!" Edd screamed over the radio making Jon cringe but he did as he was told, drifting to gain some more speed to widen the gap.

He can't afford a pitt stop right now, not when the race was so close to ending.

Continue reading here or on AO3.

41/51 Lap.

The roar of his engine and the smooth skid of his tires spurred him to move faster as he stepped on the gas again, his fists gripping on to the wheel just so. Only ten more laps to go and Jon was feeling pretty confident since the Snakes were keeping Joffrey busy while Waymar sailed back to P2 behind him.

He had just made the fourth turn again when he saw a marshall waving a detour flag at him.

What the hell?

"Edd? Edd? What's going on? Why is there a detour? Edd?"

But the airwaves remained static which was very odd.

Jon had no choice then but to follow the detour and into a track that lead to one of the abandoned practice tunnels. Something must've happened ahead of the track but he didn't see or hear anything unusual.

But what was unnerving was the team radio line dying on him.

This never happened before and he started slowing down because he wasn't familiar with this track and he was starting to suspect there was no car trailing behind him anymore.

As he went further, so did the darkness but he couldn't turn back because the track was too narrow and was obviously a one-way.

His heart raced and it wasn't from excitement anymore.

Finally, he saw the light and there were people wearing the race officials uniforms waving him over to stop and Jon thought that maybe this wasn't a race thing but more of a Prime Minister's son safety issue.

He stopped the car and hopped off cautious of his surroundings. He didn't completely remove his helmet, just lifted the visor as he greeted an approaching official but when he saw Arthur Dayne and Larence Snow, both of which were part of his security detail, he relaxed a little.

He removed his helmet, pulled down his balaclava and ear plugs, then and met them halfway. "What's going on?"

"You were almost kidnapped sir."

Jon turned sharply to the voice he'd recognize anywhere on the planet and beyond and he was greeted immediately by red flowing hair and bright blue eyes of his personal assistant and love of his life though she doesn't know it yet, Sansa Stark, who was holding up a phone and her tablet while her smart watch kept flashing on her right wrist, looking at him with concern.

"C-come again?"

"Hang on," Sansa held finger up while she took a call from her headset. "Yes, he's safe Robb. Arthur and Larence as well as some of the staff are here with us. I'll brief him and we can rendezvous back to the Keep from the Dragonpit. Arthur already talked to Barristan. Mmhmm. Yes. Okay."

She tapped the mic off and walked over to him calmly, nodding at Larence to go ahead. "There was a plan to lead you here off track and take you. We're heading over back to the Keep," she explained.

Jon's blood froze. He knew about several kidnapping attempts done on his family but this was the first time that he was the sole target and he was barely listening as Arthur started explaining what happened while they escorted him into one of the Targaryen safe cars.

"It was the Blackfyres and their Golden Company. We got an anonymous tip to watch you closely when you reached your fortieth lap. When Sansa saw your car disappear off track, I had my men go ahead from the other end of the tunnel you entered. Before that we've already blocked off all the exits when you reached your twentieth lap. Long story short, my men apprehended ten company members and their getaway car."

He tried to concentrate and process but he was definitely shaken up. He knew there was something he wasn't telling him but then he felt a warm hand on his arm and saw Sansa's small dainty hand on him before meeting with her eyes.

"Hey, you're safe now, sir," she said softly, her eyes as warm as her touch that Jon visibly relaxed, even offering a weak smile.

"I thought I told you to call me Jon."

Sansa just smiled up at him and waited for him to slide in the car while Arthur held the door open for him. He went in automatically, sliding inside to make room for Sansa to sit next to him as part of the safety drill they've practiced numerous times of having no two doors open at the same time.

Jon was still uneasy. "It's too...easy," he said once Arthur rode shotgun and Larence started the car.

"It is, that's why we're bringing you home for now while the rest secure the Dragonpit," Arthur explained, nodding to Larence to drive once the front escort car rolled away. Jon looked behind them and saw the rear escort car tailing them.

"Why me?"

"We don't know yet," Sansa answered and Jon looked at her then and noticed her tapping away in her phone and tablet that was balanced on her lap. She paused what she was doing to look at him fully then, her eyes filled with determination. "But we'll find out."

He nodded and leant back, setting his helmet on the floor and not bothering to remove anything else yet since his overall wasn't only fireproof but bulletproof and his hands still shook enough for him to remove his gloves.

"So...who won?" he tried not to sound too bitter knowing that his streak ended.

Sansa looked at him sadly before giving a tiny smile and Jon appreciated that she once again, stopped whatever it was she was doing to concentrate on him. His heart started racing when she slid closer and settled her hand on his arm again. "Waymar then Trystane, Daemon, Joffrey, Arys" in that order. Sorry sir, but it's still a win for the team. And if anything, you would've won it hands down if it weren't for this," she started frowning then.

Jon was touched that Sansa cared - what was he saying? She always cared. But he didn't want to see her frown. He wanted nothing but to see her smile so he cracked a grin and ran a hand through his hair. "Hey at least the Night's Watch is still on top and you guys did a fantastic job stopping my abduction."

Sansa smiled a little then but got distracted when she started taking calls again and checking emails, giving him an apologetic look that he waved off with an understanding smile.

He realized then that this kind of thing would drain her from the shit storm of the media, his team, the whole F1 organization, and of course, the whole of Westeros wanting to know about this. Seven hells, Sansa will be completely swamped, communicating with the Palace lawyers and PR staff.

Seven hells, it probably started minutes ago - right at the moment he disappeared off track, but with Sansa as his PA, he'd never know the difference. She was incredibly efficient and not once did he see her as nothing but a picture of grace under pressure over the six months that she started working for him. Father did a good job of handpicking her and her twin brother Robb to work for him. The Stark twins worked with Sansa being in charge of internal affairs while Robb handled the external ones, often representing him politically as well as legally as his personal lawyer.

They were actually bargains if he wanted to continue his career as a professional racer, his father, or rather, Prime Minister Rhaegar made that clear. You can't just run off and leave your responsibilities on the track. Especially now with talks of the Blakfyres trying to overthrow his father's rule.

He sighed but then, at least he gained a friend in Robb and most importantly, he met Sansa.

Sansa.

She was the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on with her creamy alabaster skin, her bright blue eyes, that fiery mane and those incredibly long, long, legs she often displayed under those tight pencil skirts she wore and the fuck me heels that often left him helpless and wanting when it made her tower over him an inch.

But she wasn't just another beautiful face. Sansa was a sweetheart. Kind. Courteous. Sweet. But what drove him mad was how intelligent she was. She was incredibly smart and witty and so in charge that - that turned him on more.

It wasn't really a secret that he was attracted to her. She was working to serve under him but everyone saw that he was putty in her soft delicate hands. But as professionalism goes, they couldn't date.

His father made sure to remind him of that. She was too valuable an asset for the Targaryens with how efficient she worked that sometimes Jon thinks Rhaegar wanted to adopt her, especially with Rhaenys eloping with Willas Tyrell, and Aegon faffing around the world on Jon Connington's boat, his uncle Viserys being an insufferable prick in Dragonstone and his aunt Daenerys galivanting the Free Cities.

It was clear to Rhaegar that once his rule has ended, none of his issue would follow after him.

Really, the Starks cleared their messes with their father Ned Stark often acting as his right-hand man. Ned, like Robb, was a lawyer and had been appointed as the Attorney General of the regime. He then offered the twins' services. Sansa, he learned, had a degree in Diplomacy and International Relations. Truly, if anything, Rhaegar wanted to adopt either her or Robb to continue his platforms.

Jon asked them if they wanted to run for office one day but they both humbly declined saying that they were fine with what they were now, and that there were more important matters. Jon never understood what could be more important than holding office? Surely there were more things they could accomplish than fixing his messes or refraining him from making them.

They slowed down suddenly and the scratch of the radio broke the silence.

"This is Arthur. Hmmm. Copy that."

Jon held his breath as he saw Arthur's eyes go to his from the mirror. "We've been compromised. We're moving you to the safe house. We're being followed," he explained quickly while he punched on the GPS and continued talking to someone on his two-way.

Jon froze then and gripped his knees hard.

"Yeah, Robb. Turning off all comms except the untraceable. I'll update you."

His head snapped to Sansa and saw her turning all her gadgets off and extracting a slim black phone he's never seen before and syncing it with her head piece. And by the Seven, why was she so calm?

"How are you doing it?"

She looked up at him confused. "Hm?"

"How are you not freaking out?"

She blinked. "Oh. Nerves of steel, I guess," she shrugged before she studied him. "Hey you're shaking."

He was?

He looked down at his hands and saw that he was. He knew part of it was still the adrenaline from the race, the attempt, and now this. "Sorry."

Jon sucked in a breath when Sansa slid right next to him that her hip was touching his and leant a bit to take his hand in hers as she carefully pulled on the velcro straps and tugged his gloves off one by one.

"Why are you sorry? For being scared?" she said in a low voice without looking at him, concentrating on her task.

"Yeah, not exactly manly of me," he chuckled nervously.

"Hmm, well my father always said that the only time you can be brave is when you're afraid," she said soothingly before holding both his hands in hers and looking up at him with those vivid blue eyes of hers.

Jon could only look at her and their hands before he closed his eyes and took deep breaths and once he was calm enough he opened them and saw her still looking at him, giving him a half-smile when their eyes met again.

"You'll be fine, I promise. I'll protect you," she winked at him.

He couldn't help but smile at her joke. "Sure. You just bat your long lashes at them and they'd be wrapped around your cute little finger. Easy."

She blushed then and Jon realized what he just said. "Er, I mean-"

The car lurched as Larence made a sharp turn, causing Jon to press against Sansa when they got thrown to her side.

"Sorry about that, we're here," Larence muttered.

Arthur went down first to check while the rest of them waited inside the car.

Jon then realized he was on top of something soft and he bolted to the other side in a flash when he realized his head was pressed against Sansa's torso. "Sorry."

Sansa was flushed too but offered him a weak smile as she smoothed down her black twin-set with red details and that was when he noticed that Sansa was wearing his team's colors.

Arthur opened Sansa's door then while Larence helped her out and quickly ushered her inside the safe house in Fleabottom with him and Arthur following behind and flanked by two more men.

Once they were inside, Jon was whisked into the eleventh floor and into a suite. The safe house was actually an intel building.

"This is actually not the safest but it was the closest and we need to keep you safe," Arthur met his eyes.

"Tell me the real danger, I can handle it," Jon said determinedly, knowing there was something they were keeping from him.

Larence and Arthur as well as Sansa exchanged looks. "The order was to capture you. Dead or alive," Arthur laid it out then and Jon stared at him baffled.

They heard a crash then and running followed by shots outside.

"Fuck," Arthur pulled his gun out then and so did the men as they went for the door and formed a perimeter around Jon. "They're here."

Arthur then looked at Sansa. "We'll hold them off. Get him out. Larence will come as far as he can with you. Get the brief and head to the garage with the service elevator." He threw a set of keys to Sansa who caught it in one hand, her eyes hard, and her jaw firm. "Your card will work fine on everything. Get him out and rendezvous at Wolf Den."

"What? Why Sansa? What's going on!" Jon shifted from Arthur and Sansa and his eyes bulged when he saw Sansa toss the painting over the headboard and opened a hidden safe, pulling out a steel briefcase.

"Jon."

He turned to Arthur who wasn't looking at him but at the door where he was aiming his gun at. "Go with Sansa. Now."

Before he could react, Jon was being dragged by Larence towards the closet with Sansa walking briskly ahead.

He saw Larence shut the closet door and bar it then back to Sansa who placed her key card over a panel she revealed and a secret door opened just as they heard shots being fired from the other room.

"Shit, go, go, go, I'll lock behind you," Larence pushed Jon just as Sansa tugged at him.

"Larence but-" Jon felt the reality finally sinking in.

Larence Snow, who he played poker with, had pulled him out of his drunk ass more times than he could remember, being an actual friend more than a guard was going to die for him.

"Come with us," he pleaded.

Larence smiled at him grimly. "It's been fun, Jon. Now go with your girl. She's the Ace." He said before the door slid down between them.

"Jon, come on," Sansa urged as she continued to tug at him. "He knew what he was doing," she whispered hurriedly while dragging him towards another room that she locked after them.

Jon was still in shock until he felt hands on his face and blue eyes steadying his frantic ones. "Jon. Listen to me. You're going to be fine. I'm going to get you out of this. But I need you to do as I say. Do you understand?"

He blinked at her.

"Jon," she said more firmly.

He nodded and swallowed while Sansa let out a relieved breath before she started kneeling as she opened the silver briefcase.

She pulled out another bulletproof vest and handed one to him while she shrugged off her black coat and wore one of her own and that was when Jon saw the twin gun holsters strapped to her lower back.

"You-you're-"

She looked at him over her shoulder and smiled tightly. "Yeah," before securing her headset and taking out two more handguns. He watched as she slid the magazine in, pulled the slide release, and clicked the glock into place like she was doing it all her life.

"Do you know how to use this?" She looked at him then and he saw the first sign of worry on her face with the tiny furrow between her brows.

"Not well," Jon admitted and cursed himself for not taking those shooting lessons to heart.

Sansa stood in front of him then and took his hands, placing a glock in his right hand and positioning his hand properly. "It's easy. This is a semi-automatic and I've released the lock already. All you have to do," she raised his hand and made him point it straight forward while she used both hands to keep him in position. "Is point and shoot."

She placed his finger on the trigger with hers on top of his. "You don't need to shoot fancy. Just go for the easy targets - the biggest space so you won't miss. Hit the chest or the back. Don't hesitate. It's your life or theirs. These men will not hesitate to shoot. You got it?"

Jon swallowed. This was really happening. "Y-yes."

She released him then and helped him tighten the vest. She placed a radio on the holster of his vest explaining quickly. "If we get separated, use this and go to channel one and shout "Winter is coming," then follow the voice."

He nodded again.

"Okay," she walked in front of him then. "Jon. We're going to use the service elevator. Beyond this room, there is a short hallway we have to pass and we'll encounter men. I need you to stay behind me at all times. Don't be a hero. I'm trained for this. You aren't. You'll get in the elevator first and I'll try to follow. You'll be immediately brought to basement 2 but you'll have to climb out the escape hatch and climb to basement 1 where they won't expect us. Get a car. Any car and drive the hell away and use the radio for directions."

He grabbed her by the arms then and bore at her. "What about you? I can't let you--"

She cut him off with a hurried kiss. "Jon. I'm just telling you the plan in case I can't follow you. But I'm telling you, I'm trained at this. I'll see you through until you're safe. I promise. Now, we need to go."

She fixed him a look that had a hundred different promises swirling in those baby blues and all he could do was keep nodding at her repeatedly, hoping she'd see his own too.

Sansa gave him a firm nod and released him. Strapping on ammo belts over her and setting her own gun.

She tapped on her headpiece then just as she switched her smartwatch on. "Red Wolf to Grey. Do you read? Over."

Jon could hear from his own radio strapped to his chest where Sansa must've kept the line on just in case.

"This is Grey, I copy. Over. I've locked in your position. Is Rhaegal undamaged?" Robb. He recognized the voice. So he was part of this too? Was Ned Stark one too?

"No. I sent you our coordinates. I need surveillance and possible backup," Sansa checked the windows before hovering over the door.

"Locked in on your coordinates. Activating Warg mode. I'm your eyes Red."

"Good. We're heading out to the hallway. How many men are there? Positions?"

"Seven and four waiting at the left intersection, three guarding the chute. They can't call for backup as I've denied all access to the chute but I can see they're working on override."

Sansa pursed her lip but was still relatively calm. "How much time do I have?"

"Sixty-five seconds. Go."

"Jon, do you trust me?" She looked at him then.

"With my life," he answered right away and Sansa's eyes glinted with something before she placed her keycard over the lock and opened into the hallway.

"Then let's run," She ran ahead and he followed as they sped off into the narrow hallway, spotting the left intersection where four men appeared from, blocking their way while pointing guns at them.

"Stop. Drop your weapons and come with us quietly now and no one gets hurt," came the burly man with an eyepatch.

Sansa stayed Jon with a hand behind her back indicating to stand down. "Funny, I was going to offer you the same courtesy Greyjoy."

Greyjoy?

"Ah. What a delight you are. But no girl, hand over the boy and I promise to make it good for you when I take you back with me. Be a good girl now and I'll return the favor when I let you suck me off," Greyjoy taunted and Jon saw red but Sansa stayed him again with her hand.

"Ooh, so you're the dragon spawn's bitch, I see. All the more sweeter to mount a dragon's moun-Fuck you bitch!"

Sansa shot him straight to the crotch and fired another to his leg, bringing him down while she pushed Jon to the ground, shielding him with her body when Greyjoy open-fired.

Jon heard Sansa fire another shot and watched the lifeless eye of Greyjoy, a bullet lodged in between his eyes.

"Stay down!" Sansa yelled at him as she strode forward and pulled another gun from behind her and began shooting from both sides, taking down three men straight to the head while she aimed at two others but Jon saw the last of the men aiming behind her.

Jon didn't think then, brought himself up, aimed at the man's chest and shot.

Jon watched as the man clutched at his stomach that was starting to shoot out blood before dropping his weapon and collapsing.

He was still heaving and holding the gun with wide eyes when he heard more shooting from behind him and his name being called.

"Jon - Jon."

His head snapped to Sansa and he saw another guy aiming at her. "Sansa!"

Sansa was too quick as she dodged and lunged at the guy, elbowing his chest while she leant across that guy's shoulder and shot at the other guy straight to the heart when he saw him aiming for Jon but in a second she was caught in a headlock with the first one, a gun pointed at her head.

Jon's eyes locked with Sansa's then and she urged him to run. Pleaded with her eyes as she mouthed "Go!"

But Jon couldn't leave her. He won't. And Sansa saw that he wouldn't but tried to shake her head at him anyway as she clawed at the arm that was holding her back.

"Don't make another move. Drop your weapon or I blow her brains out!" The lone henchman spat at Jon.

Jon raised his hands and dropped the gun slowly, his eyes never taking them off of the attacker. He kicked the gun towards him and took a step back. "Take me. You can let her go. It's me you want."

Sansa was about to shout her protest when a hand clamped over her mouth.

"You have thirty seconds left Jon or you won't make it to the chute in time," came Robb's voice over the radio. "Sansa knows. We have to get you out. Let her go Jon." He could hear the pain over the controlled voice of his lawyer who quickly became his confidante at letting his sister go. But Jon wasn't raised this way.

He had to fight for the people willing to risk their lives for him too.

"Jon."

Sansa's eyes softened at Jon then and she gave him a nod that the attacker noticed when Jon saw him grin. And that was all the signal he and Sansa needed - his sudden arrogance as he saw Sansa escape from the man's loosened grip, kicking the gun out of his hand before she pulled his arm and threw him over her shoulder where he landed roughly on his back with Sansa's knee digging on his spine while he pulled at his arm making him scream.

Jon ran to them, picked up the gun and threw it to Sansa who caught it and shot the man in the back before quickly grabbing her two other glocks and nodding at Jon to run as fast as he could to the service elevator with only ten seconds left.

Sansa quickly placed her keycard over the monitor and the doors slid open. She pushed Jon inside quickly while they heard Robb bark at them that there were a dozen men going their way.

Just as the doors were sliding close, Jon pulled Sansa all the way inside before repeatedly pressing the door button close as the men started appearing. Sansa shot a few rounds until the door finally shut close and they were both panting and splattered with blood and sweat as the elevator went down.

Sansa looked up at Jon as she wiped her brow. "You oka-mmph

Jon cupped her head and kissed her fiercely then before pulling away. "Seven hells, woman! You almost died!"

Sansa chuckled. "So did you, sir. Thank you sir." She smirked.

Jon was about to retort when Robb's voice came through.

"Well done. Both of you. But remember to get off B1. I'll open the doors for you. All of them are expecting you from B2 so you'll only have a window of thirty-five seconds before they catch up to you on the street. You have to shake them off as best as you can. Do you copy?"

"Roger," Sansa answered just as she observed the ceiling. They were now at the 8th floor.

7th.

6th.

"Jon, I need you to boost me up," Sansa tilted her head at him.

"What?"

She pointed to the escape hatch. "That's our exit. The faster we're up there, the easier we can go. Help me up?"

Jon looked from the ceiling to her and understood, crouching down so she could climb up his back. He felt Sansa's hands on his shoulders then before a leg hitched over his shoulder, and then another on his other side that made him suck in a breath as he felt her skirt against his nape and heard a rip.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I had to rip it because it's too tight to move freely," she muttered. "Um, Jon, I need you to steady me because I'll be reaching up."

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled back as his arms held on to her thighs where he felt garters that made him pause again.

"They carry my gun and a knife. Boost me up?" she said hurriedly.

Jon nodded and stood straight, trying not to think of Sansa's gartered and stockinged legs were around his neck and focused instead on the sounds of Sansa tinkering with the hatch as they descended to 4th when suddenly the elevator lurched to a stop, the lights flickering on and off until darkness then the emergency light.

Jon kept Sansa steady while he braced against the wall with one hand.

"Grey, what the hell?"

"Hang on Red. I'll hook it back. I had to terminate an attempt. Sorry, hold on."

Sansa cussed for the first time and that was when Jon felt that shit was real. He didn't know how much his sanity depended on her cool.

Sansa noticed him stiffening and worked faster before urging him gently to let her down.

"We're still good. I'll protect you, I promise, didn't I?" she smiled up at him as she cradled his cheek.

Jon grabbed her wrist and looked straight at her. "What exactly did you promise when you took the job? You promised your life?"

She didn't back down and leant forward that their noses were touching. "Yes."

"Fuck, Sansa-"

"Don't. Not now. Tell me later," Sansa said before she backed away, then sprang on the elevator rail before pushing her body upwards to catch on the opened hatch where she dangled for a moment before hoisting herself up and disappearing into the ceiling just as the elevator started moving again.

4th.

3rd.

She appeared again and offered him her hand. "Jump up Jon. You can do it. Grab my hand."

Jon did and it took three tries before his hand clutched at Sansa's where she pulled him up with both arms, grunting while he saw her teeth clenching until finally they were both holding on to the top of the elevator as it sailed down.

2nd.

Sansa closed the hatch.

"This is our stop. When I say jump, jump okay?" She took Jon's hand in hers and Jon squeezed it tightly. "Yes."

Sansa looked to her left then where the doors where and slowly she stood up with one hand bracing Jon's other arm and nodding at the direction.

1st.

"Jump!"

Hand in hand they jumped towards the ledge of B1 level. But Jon slipped if not for Sansa's iron grip on his arm.

Jon could see the strain heavy on Sansa as she struggled to pull him up. "I'm too heavy. Let go."

Sansa shook her head. "Don't you dare. Now try and swing your hand to grab on to my arm. Try."

Jon tried and missed and Sansa winced. "Try harder."

He did and this time he was able to grab ahold of Sansa's arms with his other hand and they both hoisted themselves up over the tiny ledge, with Jon collapsing on top of Sansa, both of them panting.

"Gods be good, Jon! Just do as you're told!" Sansa scolded as she slapped his back. Jon didn't know why but he started chuckling while shaking his head.

"Yes, yes it's all very amusing. Now get off me and let's get our car."

Jon quickly got off her and offered her a hand and helped her up.

"Grey, Alohomora this bitch," Sansa tapped her headset.

"Opening the portrait. Good job you two."

The elevator door opened and Sansa stepped inside first, gun out and gestured for Jon to stay low behind him.

"All clear. Proceed." Robb's voice broke through.

Sansa chose the nearest car then, a Porsche Panamera, and Jon should've known that of course there would be armored sports cars in every safe house.

On instinct he went inside the driver's side but was quickly shoved over to the passenger side by Sansa who gave him a look that said seriously going to fight me at this point?

He raised his palms as Sansa started the car, syncing her smartwatch to the comm at the dash where Robb's face came to view. "Hey guys. Let's get you out, shall we?"

"You okay?" Sansa demanded as she received the coordinates Robb entered on the GPS split screen.

"What?"

"Sit tight," she said instead while she backed out the parking space. "You're not the only one who can drive fast."

Jon obeyed at once while Robb chuckled from the screen. "Better do as she says, sir."

"You two have been saving my ass, I think it's time you called me Jon," Jon grumbled.

"Oh heads up sis, you're going to be met with a lot of resistance once you reach the gate. There's a shotgun at the back and two more pistols on the glove compartment. Godspeed. I'll keep surveillance and get back to you."

Robb's face disappeared then while the GPS zoomed out.

Sansa peeled out of the basement and up the exit where probably thirty armed men were waiting, shooting at them right away.

"Keep down," Sansa drifted to let her side face the onslaught while they heard the bullets pelt against the car that aside from a few cracks, held.

Sansa was able to escape the firing squad and onto the street.

"Fuck!" Sansa cursed again when they were flanked both sides by larger cars where men were shooting at them.

"Robb! Where do I go? We're surrounded!" she glanced at the rearview window where another car was gaining on them.

"You gotta take them out and speed up towards the backstreet then through the Muddy Way and we can come get you on the Street of Steel."

"Shit," as the car shook after a few more rounds at them. She looked at Jon then. "Jon, I have to take them out."

Jon held on to her look, not liking where this was going but she pleaded trust from him and he was going to give it. "What do you need?"

"I need you to take the wheel and let Robb guide you while I try and take them out. Do you understand me? Can you do that?" she used the full force of her gaze at Jon as she took a large swerve to the right, still pressing the gas to the floor.

Finally, something he could do. Something he was good at. He started to slide in to her space as he nodded. "Yes. Leave it to me."

Sansa smiled at him softly then before she lifted her body up so he can slide under her. Quickly Jon's hands replaced hers on the wheel and on the pedals while she started clambering off his lap but before she could do so, the other car slammed at them from behind that Jon almost hit a pole if he hadn't turned swiftly to the right to avoid it, but he was able to right them immediately.

"Jon. I'm going to take out the left car first, okay? So I'm going to open the door and shoot and I need you to keep driving straight, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. Don't be scared," and then she opened our door catching the assailants by surprise as she shot at them straight, hitting both the driver and the passenger with one shot each and Jon pushed the car so fast ahead to avoid colliding against the now spinning car to the left.

Sansa shut the door right away and started climbing to the back where he could see her taking out the shotgun and loading it from the mirror.

"Jon?"

"Robb?"

"I can help you two escape. I found a route. Follow my directions. Go straight for three kilometers then turn right."

"Gotcha."

"I'm going to take out the back now," Sansa declared. "Just keep driving, you're doing fine." She said while she opened up the sunroof and climbed up. "Sansa! What the fuck?!"

Sansa was now on the roof, shooting at the back and depending on him to keep the car steady or else she'd fall.

Okay, calm down Jon. Calm down. You've driven worse tracks at faster speed. You can do this. He mentally cheered himself and gripped on the wheel like his life depended on it, sighing in relief when Sansa dropped back inside from the sunroof. The car behind them hitting another car, turning over before crashing on a sidewalk, catching fire at once.

"Seven hells, Sansa at least warn a man!" he glanced at her.

"Just keep driving Targaryen," she tore at her sleeves and that was when Jon saw that she was shot.

"Sansa-"

"I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth. "Just a bullet graze." She started wrapping the giant gash it left on her right arm with her torn sleeve. "Keep driving. Our turn is near."

And she was right, Jon could see the turn and he made it just as Robb started ordering again.

"Good. Now you just need to keep going straight until you see The Hook. Take the sharp left then immediately the next right exit then go the roundabout to Street of Steel. It's not that far now."

"Okay." He shot a worried look at Sansa who was reloading the shotgun when they were hit with a big blast from her side that shattered the glass.

Jon kept the car from spinning around and ducked when he saw a car going straight for them from his left.

He let go of the wheel then and allowed the car to spin before he drifted off the path and watched the car collide against the new one tailing them at the back. Just how many were there?

Once he was able to get them back on course, he noticed that Sansa was quiet and saw that she was unconscious with a big cut against the side of her head.

"Sansa - Sansa" he hissed and he breathed out when her eyes fluttered open as she winced but started going for her shot gun again.

A motorcycle with two people sped up to her side again and they were so near her side. Jon tried to bump them off but they were too quick and Sansa aimed the shotgun at them from the broken window and fired but missed.

"Shit," she cursed and before Jon knew it, Sansa opened her door, shot the rider at the back and jumped on the motorcycle, kicking the one at the back off while pointing a gun at the driver's head and firing. She pushed him away then and Jon saw Sansa now driving towards the back.

"Sansa no! Get back here!"

But Sansa didn't and open fired behind her, targeting the wheels of the two cars that were following before she drove back to the still hanging passenger door.

Jon glared at her horrified. "Get in, now!" He reached his hand as far as he could stretch it, leaving the wheel on straight lock as he frantically reached for Sansa's own overstretched hand.

"Come on!" He shouted and finally he was able to grab Sansa's hand and pull her in, smiling in relief when they heard a shot fired with Sansa collapsing on his shoulder, her arms falling from his body as she slid down his.

"No, no, no, no!" Jon quickly assessed her and there he saw it, Sansa got shot at her left shoulder from the back. She took a shot meant for him.

Jon saw red then as he quickly shut the door, buckled in an unconscious Sansa who was still breathing heavily from the pain, and got back to driving.

"Robb, Sansa's been shot at the back. Shoulder but she's still breathing. Only one more car is tailing us. Where will we go?" He said completely clear headed now and focused on the drive.

"Fuck. Okay, change route. On the next right exit, take it and head straight to River Row. There's a medic bay there. Drive the fuck over there and save my sister."

"Roger."

He saw it then. Two cars toeing in on either side and he slipped into his racing mode.

This is just another race.

You've never lost a race in years.

The last one didn't count but this would.

Sansa's life depended on it.

They all know me as a dragon, Rhaegal they named my mount in court.

But in the track I'm only known by one name.

And that's Ghost.

It's time to vanish on the streets.

He gripped the wheel and started letting on the gas, breaking a little, making them think he was slowing down for them as he eyed the curve.

They roared beside them then and Jon smirked as he lead them to the narrow curve, stopping abruptly and watched as they vainly tried to turn but ended up crashing against each other.

Jon started the car again, roaring it to life and steadily started backing up, gaining speed, before pushing forward full throttle as he used the piled car as a ramp and let the car fly over them and back into the street with a loud screech and a jolt, moving as fast as he could away as the cars exploded behind him, pushing his car forward from the impact.

But he didn't relent.

He drove and drove until finally he reached River Row where he immediately saw Robb Stark get out off a car and ordering a team to get them.

Jon slowed to a stop. Hands still tight on the wheel as he heaved in and out, his pulse throbbing in his ears. And he heard his door and Sansa's being opened but he couldn't move, or let the voices register. Not until he heard a familiar whimper.

His eyes shot to Sansa now who was being held by her brother then. Her eyes fluttering open and searching his, offering a weak smile at him. "You okay?" she said through gritted teeth.

Jon felt all the tension slip away from his body then only to be replaced with exhaustion and relief as he returned her smile, reaching over to move her hair off her face. "Never better. You?"

"Just another day," she grinned.

"Okay, that's enough for now." Robb carried Sansa then and looked at Jon gratefully. Jon could only nod at him. Of course.

Jon stepped out the car and shook off the paramedics fusing about him, going instead to Sansa still in Robb's arms as he carried her towards the medic bay himself.

"Did anyone...?" Jon asked Robb and a shadow fell over his face. "Arthur was the only one who made it. Larence..." he shook his head. "There were too many of them."

Jon's chest constricted. They all died for him. He's going to make sure he deserved this - their sacrifice as he looked down at Sansa who was frowning, thinking about her fallen comrades. After a few more races, he was going back to work for his father and then convince Sansa to run for office and campaign the hell out for her. None of them had the capacity to rule, unfortunately, but the Starks had two - three if Ned wanted to as well. The Starks were the best people to take over the regime after his father. This is how he'll honor his family's security team.

Sansa's eyes met Jon's and she smiled at him softly. "Thank you, Jon."

Jon snorted. "No, thank you."

"Well, the jig is up, I guess," she giggled then winced after, earning a frown from Robb.

"Who would've thought my sweet and pretty assistant could be lethal. Hiding knives and guns under her skirt," he joked earning a glare from Robb but didn't comment.

"A skirt, you've been trying to chase," she winked.

Jon blinked but laughed instead. "Well, you did say the jig is up."

"I hope you're not too betrayed."

"Stark, you took a bullet for me. You killed for me. Betrayed is the last thing on my mind," he scoffed.

Sansa closed her eyes then and smiled. "I'm just doing my job. Pretty smooth driving though. World class."

"I'm just doing my job," he shot back at her.

Sansa reached up and took his hand then, looking up at him. "Jon, now that we're out of the woods. Do you know yet? Did they tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

She tilted her head. "Where will you go?"

He bid Robb to stop walking a minute so he could lean down Sansa. "Where will we go?"

Sansa grinned up at him then though she looked pale and worn but still fucking beautiful. "You're my bodyguard, right? You made a vow to me. You promised you'd protect me," he winked.

"I guess I did," she said before closing her eyes and surrendering to her exhaustion.

Jon leant down again and kissed her forehead. "I'll protect you too."

And they started walking again.

"You know she can't be your bodyguard anymore, right?" Robb eyed him.

Jon just grinned. "Of course not. But she'll still be obligated to stay by my side."

"Oh, is she now?" Robb raised a brow at him.

"Yes. When she runs for office after my father, naturally, the first gentleman's place is beside her," he said matter-of-factly.

Robb burst out laughing. "Rhaegar will be pleased."

Jon snorted. "Rhaegar will shit bricks when he finds out Sansa's finally going to run and then he'll throw those bricks at me when I tell him I'm going to marry the daughter he never had that he specifically told me not to date."

"I'm sure Sansa will make him come around," Robb grinned at him. "You've seen how demanding she is."

Jon grinned wickedly. "Yeah, yes she is."

"Oy, get that filthy thought away from my poor incapacitated sister or I'll kick your ass. We're not known as Stark Protection for nothing."

"Yikes."

"Oh, yes, yikes. Wait until you meet our mom. She's the one who taught Sansa how to fire guns and arrows."

"Double yikes."

"Will you two shut up. I just got shot here," Sansa mumbled, squinting an eye at them. "And it hurts like the seven hells. I think it's lodged in my scapula."

Robb laid her down the stretcher and stepped back, dropping a kiss on her forehead as the staff went over her. "See you later Red Wolf. I'm proud of you pumpkin."

Sansa rolled her eyes and looked at Jon then who was looking at her tenderly.

"So, first gentleman, huh? The Palace is the cart before the horse there or what?"

Jon chuckled and kissed her gently then to the sigh and grumbling of the medics. "Yes. And that's after we have three children. One mini-you, one mini-me, and one a combination. Oh and a dog too."

"Awfully sure of you," she winced a little.

"Take it easy, and yes. Yes, I've never been more sure. I should've said it earlier but I love you."

Sansa closed her eyes and smiled serenely. "I love you too."

"I'll see you later," Jon squeezed her hand.

"You'd better," she muttered before looking at him then.

Jon watched as they wheeled her off, raising a hand in a wave and watched as Sansa smiled at him and lifted a hand, though a little weakly, back at him.

Sansa's been following him around and cleaning up after him as he went on his races but starting now, he'll be chasing nothing but her.

It was his turn to follow.

Professionalism be damned.

It was time to rip out her contract and give her a new one while he planned just one more race.

The race to the altar.

No way in seven hells was he wasting any more time.

Not when speed was all he knew.

When you knew, you knew.

And seven hells they both almost died today.

She was it.

She was the goal.

And speed...not necessarily a bad thing.

He smirked.

Not a bad thing at all.

#jonsansaff #ladywolfmdfic #jonsa #actually jonsa #bodyguard au #jonsansaff 12 days of shipping

28 notes · View notes

fedonciadale · 6 years

Text

Judicatrix - Historical Jonsa AU - Chapter 1 - In Rome

So, on our discord channel we talked about literature and I mentioned this German novela from the 1880s wirtten by the Conrad Ferdinand Meyer from Switzerland (Die Richterin), full of naturalism and everything that is so fascinating about the 19th century and how that novela gave me Jonsa vibes. I mean the family it is about is called the ‘wolves’, they have a wolf cup, a wolf horn, a crypt with statues.... you name it. Since, everybody was so interested I decided to give it a go, and retell it... Since it will be a multi-chapter I’m not sure if it counts for the 12 day of shipping challenge from @jonsafanfiction but if it doesn’t count so be it. So here it is a double historical AU, inspired by a novela from the 19th century, set in Charlemagne’s time (althought that is not really important), for the author’s choice day for the shipping challenge....

Also on AO3.

Samwell tried not to gawk to openly. It was his first time in Rome, and he did not want to attract attention. Not that it was likely that a sole man from the North, even if he was well-off would be noticed. All the talk in the city was about the coronation that had taken place on Christmas day, and how splendid the new emperor Charles looked, even though it had happened three months ago.

Sure, somebody will be in a good enough mood to sell books?

Samwell was not accustomed to cities of any size. Compared to Chur, the only town he knew, Rome was confusing and loud. There were so many people that nobody commented on his raetian outfit that had earned him many a look on his way to Rome.

Samwell sighed. First do what you came her for. You won’t enjoy the city anyway before you haven’t fulfilled your duty.

But how to find the courtiers he needed for both his errants?

Asking around where the emperor held court, he was informed that Charles was to mass in the Lateran. He got directions and arrived at place before the basilica just as mass started. A raucous group of young men speaking Frankish stood around the statue of a rider and they made jokes about the solemn looking rider.

“He would have a much better seat on his horse, if he had stirrups,“ a young man with a red beard snorted.

“Look at his calves! They look like the calves of a pig,“ someone else said.

“Imagine, he would need help to mount the horse.“

“What does he do with his arm anyway?“ another joked. “He probably wants to know if it rains.“

Samwell listened and tried to edge closer to the group. He felt awkward doing that, but they seemed to be courtiers, and exactly the men he needed.

Finally, Redbeard took note of him: “Hey, who are you? You look like someone from Raetia.“

Sam stood frozen for a moment. The Frankish words would not come at first.

“Indeed I am…“ he finally answered and winced inwardly about his palpable accent.

He smiled shyly. “I am the nephew of the bishop of Chur and he sent me to court to get some books.“

Redbeard laughed at that. “The bishop’s nephew? You mean his son.“

Samwell could feel how the blood flooded his cheeks. All the young men laughed when they took note of Sam’s reaction. This was not going well.

“Ah! I nailed that!“ The Redbeard said. My father is not the only bishop to claim his son is not his son, but his nephew. Samwell thought sullenly.

“Although you look more bookish than your valiant …“ Redbeard left a telling pause. “…‘uncle‘”.

That had them laughing again. Samwell tried to chime into their laughter to ease the mood. It was not as if he wasn’t accustomed to such teasing.

“And it is indeed books I’m after,“ he tried to approach his real errand.

“Surely not for the bishop? Does he even know how to read?“ Redbeard said.

Another burst of laughter followed.

“Does anybody of us know how to read?“ Redbeard continued.

That had them all cackling again. “We try our best to skip those lessons.“, a man with a lombard accent in his Frankish said.

Just when Samwell was about to give up getting a coherent answer from any of the young courtiers, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“They can keep on and on with this for hours,“ someone addressed him. “What kind of books do you need?“

It took Samwell a moment to realise that he had been addressed in raetic. He turned.

In front of him stood a young man about his own age, with a mop of dark curls. His clothing was that of a Frankish courtier, but his raetic was obviously that of a native speaker. At his side stood a huge white dog.

Samwell looked at him curiously, and saw a sword with a wolfshead pummel at his side and a horn at the other. “I need the newest works on mathematics by Alcuin himself.“ He said. “My un… I mean, the bishop’s archdeacon Aemon needs them.“ He blushed again.

The man gave him a genuine, if short smile. “I can help you. Come with me.“

Sam followed him. He had an inkling who was striding beside him and he said. “You’re Brandon’s son, Jon of Winterfell. You’re the one they call the white wolf, one of Charles‘ most famous warriors.“

Jon raised one of his eyebrows. “What gave me away? Ghost, my sword, or my horn?“ he asked. “I hadn’t realised I was that famous.“

Samwell laughed genuinely for the first time that day. “Your looks,“ he said.

“I saw your father’s statue in the chapel at Winterfell. He looks just like you.“

Jon snorted. “Then the mason must have taken his liking many years before he died.“

Samwell didn’t answer to that. His other errand laid heavily on his heart.

“I have Alcuin’s books on math and I’ll give them to you, if you promise that you return them, after you and the archdeacon have finished the copying.“

Jon led them to a tavern, the white dog at his heels, strangely silent. Although it was not yet full spring, the midday sun was warm, and only occasionally shadowed by a cloud, and they sat outside.

With a glass of wine in hand, Samwell tried to relax. Jon leaned back.

“It’s funny to hear my mothertongue. It has been years, since I’ve seen somebody from Raetia, not since my uncle Benjen died. Have you come just for the books or do you have other plans?“ Jon asked.

“„I have another errand,“ Samwell said , and decided not to beat about the bush.

“The Judicatrix has sent me to fetch her step-son. Catelyn of Winterfell wants to clear the succession now her daughter has come of age.“

Just as Samwell had feared, Jon was not pleased.

“What does she want?“, he said. “I’ve not been to Winterfell for almost twenty years. She must know, I don’t intend to stake a claim.“

“„But there is the issue of your father’s death. She wants to be cleared of all doubts, that still might cling to her name, so that her daughter might inherit peacefully.“ Samwell insisted. “You might know, that you don’t want Winterfell, but a bastard against a daughter is not a clear-cut case. If you publically give up your claim, there will be no doubt left.“

Jon scowled. “You’re ruining a perfect morning. I decided long ago to forego any accusation. I’ve heard the tale of my father’s death from my uncle Benjen. And believe me, my uncle Benjen – blessed be his memory - was not inclined to let Catelyn of the hook easily.“

“So, what do you know about your father’s death?“, Samwell prodded him.

“Do you want the unabashed truth?“ Jon asked.

Samwell nodded.

“Well, my father Brandon was known to have courted many a woman, if you put it nicely. My own mother Ashara was one of them. When I was seven, he dismissed her. She was ill, and he had no fun in her bed any longer…. Although that might have been his age as well…“ Jon scoffed.

“He courted the young, beautiful and healthy daughter of the Iudex Hoster, Catelyn, probably in the hope of rekindling his ardour in bed. They married, and three days later his new father-in-law was killed by Walder of the Twins. He went out to take revenge for Hoster and returned to Winterfell in triumph. His young wife awaited him, in her hand the wolf cup of our family.“

“She recited the old blessing that’s engraved on the cup, and drank half of it in welcome.“

Jon paused and waited for Samwell’s reaction.

“He came from an exhausting campaign. He had ridden hard and long.“ Samwell said.

Jon scoffed again. „He was lusting after his young wife, his heart couldn’t handle his eagerness. He was too old for all that exertion.“

“And then he took the wine, drank, and fell dead on the spot.“ Jon summed up.

“Believe me, if my uncle Benjen had suspected fool play, he would have accused Catelyn years ago. Everybody in that courtyard saw the blood has raised to my father’s face, everybody saw Catelyn drink at least half of the cup, everybody knows that there has been many a wolf of Winterfell who dropped dead with a stroke.“

He waved as if to shoo a fly. “Did I get that right? There is nothing to be sought.“

“Well, I see you have informed yourself in detail.“ Samwell said. I guess, he is angry about his mother being dismissed. He doesn’t seem to have fond memories of his father.

Jon laughed. “You probably would have put it more delicately.“

Samwell felt embarassed, that Jon had read him so well.

Jon took a sip of his wine. “I have a place with king, I mean emperor Charles. I’ve fought against the Saxons for eight years now, and I earned a name. If I ask him the emperor will give me lands of my own. There is no need to cast out my father’s widow who’s done a splendid job of ruling Winterfell after everything I heard. I don’t need Winterfell. Let Winterfell belong to my sister, what’s her name?“

“Sansa“, Samwell answered. He could not help blushing, when he thought of the beautiful young woman.

Again, Jon proved himself to be observant. “That’s where the wind is blowing? Do you court her?“

Sam looked at his feet. “My uncle would like for me to marry her to join some of my family’s lands and Winterfell.“

“And she is such horrible sight, that you want me to come back to Winterfell and claim it?“ Jon teased.

Samwell felt very uncomfortable. “No, that is not…“, he stuttered. When he saw the other man smiling, he thought he might tell this bastard son of Brandon Stark about his qualms.

“My uncle…“ he began.

“Your father“, Jon interrupted.

Samwell sighed. “My father would like to add Winterfell to our lands. Not that he does not expect the Judicatrix to rule for many years to come. But he thinks in long terms. I don’t care really.“

“So you’re not inclined to marry my sister?“ Jon asked.

“She is very beautiful and very kind. I feel like I’m not worthy of her.“ Sam admitted.

Jon laughed. “You’re a young man. Catelyn might have been too much for my father, but you seem like a nice fellow. I’m sure you can win her over. Just out of curiousity? How old is Sansa now?“

“Eighteen.“ Sam answered.

“It’s a pretty name.“ Jon mused. A lone cloud passed the sun and threw a shadow on his face when he said that.

They sat for a while and Jon apparently liked talking in Raetic. Although Jon didn’t strike Samwell as the bookish type he was interested enough or polite enough to listen to everything Samwell had to tell about the archdeacon’s plan to enhance the library of Chur.

When they had finished their wine, Jon stood up abruptly. “We’d better hurry to get to the church before mass is over. If we are lucky, Alcuin will be ready to part of even more books and you won’t need mine.“

When they reached the church again, the courtiers had gone, but several men and women awaited the emperor on the place in front of the church.

Samwell was overawed when emperor Charles descended the stairs, and he didn’t need to be told who was the king. He sank to his knees and would certainly have forgotten about the letter in his pocket, if the emperor had not stopped just in front of Jon.

“Jon“, he greeted the young warrior, speaking Frankish. “Introduce me to your fellow countryman.“

Jon stood up. “This is Samwell, the bishop of Chur’s nephew, your majesty. He came to get books for their library.“

“Oh,“, the emperor said and waved to Samwell to stand up as well. “Did Randyll decide to become a scholar this late in life?“

Samwell again had the feeling that his language skills had fled him for a moment.

He tried to breathe slowly while he wondered about the very high voice of the emperor who easily towered over him and Jon. “No, your majesty, archdeacon Aemon wants the books.“

“I’ll task Alcuin to help you in this worthy endeavour.“ Charles said. He was about to proceed, when Samwell took all his courage and addressed him.

“Your majesty, there is something else.“ He fumbled with his tunic and finally fished out the letter, he had been told to bring. He passed it to the emperor.

“Catelyn, the Judicatrix, wants to settle the succession of Winterfell. She bids you to send Jon, known as the white wolf, to her to be cleared of all blame of her husband’s death and to publicly agree to her daughter Sansa as heiress.“

Samwell could see Jon scowling, his face was ablaze with anger and discomfort.

The emperor gave the letter to one of his attendants, who opened it and after reading with only slightly moving lips he summed up: “This is indeed an official request of the Judicatrix for her husband’s son to come to Winterfell and bring these pending law suits to an end.“

The emperor frowned. “Samwell, does this woman have an obsession with the law? The case of her husband’s death is almost twenty years ago. This is hardly a pending law suit when neither the late Benjen nor Jon here ever accused her.“

“Your majesty, the Judicatrix is indeed known for being very meticulous and strict with the law.“, the clerk attendant put in. “I hear the people call her Lady Stoneheart, because her judgement never errs.“

“Not in her hearing,“ Samwell said.

The emperor laughed, and it took Samwell a moment before he realised that his laughter was not meant for him.

Charles clapped Jon on the shoulder. „Rein in your anger, Jon. I have an errand for you. Go up North to Raetia, visit Winterfell, settle this matter, and while you’re there you might have a look if the Lombards are quiet.“

Samwell thought that the White Wolf looked very sullen, when he heard that.

#Jonsa #Jonsansaff #12 days of shipping #Jon x Sansa #Historical Au #Judicatrix #jonsaff

21 notes · View notes