┊ ICONS: Sherlock Holmes ─ A Scandal in Belgravia (+) Part 1/? ┊
Sup. I know this is an art blog, but I’ve been doing some icons just to enjoy this alien face, and I want to share them with you. You can sugest some more if you want! I have a lot of screencaps from Sherlock and Marvel movies. ¿?
“You just wanted to run. I know. But I am a Queen, Jon, and I have no time for a man who can’t face his feelings as brave as he faces his enemies.” She was clearly saying he was a coward and she wasn’t wrong, Jon was being a coward. He recognized that too. ― Swan Song, Chapter V.
Half of Sansa got up from her bed happy, satisfied, and with her soul lighter, it seemed. But her other half pondered the consequences of their actions last night and she was afraid of the reaction Jon had.
And questions lingered in her head even more.
She went out the door of her chambers and followed the routine path to break her fast Had Jon given up on everything and gone back to the Wall?
"Sansa, I will ride to the borders with the Six Kingdoms. They had trouble closing some parts and some people tried to overtake and went North."
She opened her mouth a few times ... was that all he would tell me?
"When you get back we need to talk." She raised her nose and looked at him haughtily and finished her walk down the stairs listening to him following her.
"Sansa ..."
"You'll have enough time to think while you make this trip you just invented."
He took her hand in his, Sansa stopped and turned to him at once with that touch.
"Please do not say you're sorry," she begged.
"I would never say that, Sansa."
"But you thought." She snapped back.
Jon was trying, at all costs, to not engage in a fight, but it seems that Sansa was pushing him hard.
"Oh, that's good now. Read minds, too?"
"Do not try to hide your mistakes with sarcasm, Jon." He hated the tone of her voice, with some sort of anger and hate.
"I'm not trying to hide anything! And look, now, you are the one who is saying that yesterday was a mistake. Not me."
Sansa shook her head. She would not make this one of those terrible fights they always had. "You know the mistake I mean." She said last before turning her back and finally leaving him in the middle of the stairs even more confused than he already was.
He thought Sansa would reject him at all costs, that for her the night that passed it happened because of the heat of the moment and it could never be repeated. He just wanted to protect her, protect her integrity. What would the servants think if they saw Jon leaving so late and after such a long time the Queen's chambers? A massive and bad gossip could start and that was no good for Sansa. Not even a little.
The rest of the day passed like the wind, sometimes fast, sometimes calm and slow. Much had to do regarding the North, the Glover’s once more causing trouble with their neighbors. Sansa had no choice and took away Lord Glover's lands after the Long Night as punishment for not having fought with his own and broken his promise to King Jon. She called him a coward in front of the whole council and caused extreme public shame to the man. It was the only way to secure her authority in front of her own.
…
The castle was decorated but completely empty. Jon heard the noise of the music, the drums, the people dancing and talking, but not a living soul in there. Except for Bran, who was - as always – in his creepiest form, very thoughtful in front of the fireplace, analyzing the flames but with his mind miles away.
"Did you find Arya?" Jon questioned his brother and for a second he questioned himself: is he my brother?
"She's in a land of strange people. Warm weather, very hot. People walk almost without clothes. "
Jon closed his eyes, controlling himself, he could not do something to protect her, but he had not slept well since the night Arya announced that she would brave unfamiliar lands, even though he knew she was better at killing than he was, that she could protect herself.
"You can’t do anything, Jon. Arya is on her own. "
"For the first time you say something I already know." He teased, tried to bring some smile to Bran's lips, but, as always, nothing.
"The festivities are being held in the God's Woods. Sansa is waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. Have you made your decision?"
Jon knew that Bran knew, just about everything, but he did not have the courage to say anything, or maybe justify himself. "The prince of Dorne came to me." Bran turned to Jon, wanted to intimidate his brother. "He’ll go to you too, Jon. To Ask for your permission. "
"For what?"
"To court, Sansa" Bran replied evasively, he knew Jon's question was silly and coming from tantrums generated by the recent confused feelings that were raising within the eldest.
"Sansa does not need a prince of Dorne."
With that being said, Jon left the middle hall and strode down the stairs, enjoying the essence of Sansa's scent already scattered there. Her hair was loose and unruly in curls that ran to her waist, the gold-trimmed dress covered her legs and arms, but the generous cleavage on her bust took away all the innocence that the rest of her clothing was trying to give. She had a golden crown that looked more like gold twigs united to anoint a queen. The region of the eyes was made in pastel and blue tones stronger, elongated lashes and mouth more pink than normal.
She was a forest nymph.
Jon smiled sideways without her even realizing his presence and was surprised by the fact she was waiting for him.
"Hi." He said getting closer.
Sansa raised her nose and looked him up and down. She was still upset.
"You look beautiful."
"I didn’t want to arrive alone at the festivities." She cut him off and walked ahead hoping he would come after her.
The drums were getting louder and louder along with the noise of the people dancing around the huge and numerous fires they had been able to put there.
"Sansa, there's a huge elephant between us. Let's not pretend it isn’t because it does. "
"It was you who ran away, Jon, not me."
"I know, I'm sorry. I just-"
"You just wanted to run. I know. But I am a Queen, Jon, and I have no time for a man who can't face his feelings as brave as he faces his enemies.”
She was clearly saying he was a coward and she wasn't wrong, Jon was being a coward. He recognized that too.
The conversation was cut off as the guests were already around them, greeting Sansa and Jon. They offered drinks, invited them to dance. The people there all characterized with mystical creatures of their pagan culture. The old gods, of course, were what Sansa decided to continue as the faith of her people. She wanted nothing that connected them to the South and Northerners were satisfied with that. But some still followed the culture of the new gods and though the young queen hated it, she pretended not to object. But most of her people were quite happy with her choice, they were rejecting any connection with the south and that means most of them there were not actually enjoying the presence of some lords there but everything was about politics after all.
Tormund was invited as well as some of the wildlings which meant happiness and joy was ensured there. And the big man was quite drunk and teasing everybody while he was dancing around one of the bonfires.
"Little Jon" He greeted the last King with a loud exclamation. "I heard you're betrothing the young Queen! Let's celebrate this!"
Jon was overcome by an instant fear, Sansa was right, he was always afraid of facing his feelings. God damn it!
"What do you mean?" He asked more serious than ever when the ginger man held him by his shoulders with a big smile of drunkenness at his big face.
"They are saying your smart Queen is marrying the Dorne boy."
"All lies. Sansa is marrying no Dorne man” Jon was fast with his words and much as he was harsh with his tone of voice and the anger implied there.
"So it is true? People also say she may marry you. I got say man, I always wanted to see you both together."
"When you met her, she was still my sister." Jon pointed like Tormund was saying giant shits.
"Well, you odd people who have those silly things. Love is love, Jon!"
"YEAH!"
One of the drunk ones screamed with the words of Tormund allowing Jon to realize lots of people were listening to their conversation.
The yelling raised between those around them and soon Tormund was laughing hard engaged in another stupid conversation.
Jon wishes he had all that happiness inside of him like his friend.
Sansa was far but watching Jon, unable to take her eyes from his strong shape and rough face features, trying to smile and seems lighter than he was, Sansa knew both were quite tense about everything.
"Are you listening, my Queen?" The Dorne prince, who Sansa couldn’t remember the name, asked after a long time almost talking to himself.
"I am sorry... you were saying...?"
"That I shall ask your brother's permission to court you."
Sansa blinked for a moment, assimilating what it was said, from a strange man, with odd eyes and untrustworthy smile.
Like her nightmares.
"Who said I intend to marry, my Lord?"
The man was shocked by the way Sansa was annoyed by his suggestion, he thought she would be flattered, he was a handsome man after all.
"Every woman aspire to marry, my Lady."
"I am not any woman and I am certainly not your lady. I am a Queen. I shall be the one who will say when and with whom I intend to marry, and when this comes to be, I shall propose to the man myself."
She smiled with the monstrosity her words seemed to him, like an enormous sin.
"No woman propose to a man."
"Your words just made sure you're not a man to me."
He could not believe. What an arrogant and silly young woman.
"I will pretend your words were mistaken and I advised you to listen to my proposal tomorrow. If you're a Queen as you said, you'll see the political meaning of this union."
The man left quite disturbed by the little conversation he had with the queen and she was not worried about him but concerned with what he could propose that would benefit the North.
"I don't like him." Jon said appearing at her side out of nowhere.
"Me neither. But he might offer good things for us."
"You're not actually considering, are you?"
"You know.” Sansa concluded herself. “He talked to you? What an idiot, thinking a Queen needs any man's permission." After that she was sure she hated him. Very much indeed.
“Bran talked to me.” Jon clarified. "But it's your day. Let's not waste with disturbing shits."
Sansa joined her hands in front of her body and turned herself to Jon, analyzing every expression it was forming at his face while she was facing him.
"You confuse me." She said firmly.
"I confuse myself."
Sansa blinked. What was he trying to say? What exactly did he want from her?
"You can make a wish, it's your day." Jon was referring her name day.
"I can make many wishes, Jon."
"I mean to me." He explained.
People were passing, laughing loud and talking very close to them while both were inside this sort of bubble where the air was rare, and their minds were haunted by images of their little moment last night.
"Anything?" She asked.
"Anything." He cleared.
"I wish you would be honest with me. About everything."
After a long time thinking, both of them unable to take their eyes from each other, trying at all costs to stay in the present, but with the taste of each other's lips springing up with impure desires and pleasant memories, Jon took a deep breath and offered his hand to her looking deeply at her eyes.
"Take my hand and I will promise you, I'll let you lead me to the most honest place we could ever be."
NOTES:
1. The chapter has been revised by the most incredible D. And I love it! And the gif belongs to my bf littlegirlinvisible.
2. I am very happy with all the reach me and littlegirlinvisible are having. It may not be much for some but for me it’s a lot.
3. Reblog, like and comment if you’re enjoying.
4. You’re all free to give me prompts and ideas. I am also open to request for another works.
My fanfictions have a lot of smuts, really a lot. If you are not comfortable with this, you are warned.
Follow the tag # swan song jonsa fanfic to see the posts and the gifsets whenever you want.
p.s. did everyone liked the smut? should I do more or nah?
“And it's peaceful in the deep
'Cause either way you cannot breathe
No need to pray, no need to speak
Now I am under all
And it's breaking over me
A thousand miles onto the sea bed
I found the place to rest my head
Never let me go, never let me go.”
- Never Let Me Go, Florence and the Machine
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When Jon walked back home, he immediately remembered about the meeting Sansa told him about and that the Lords wanting him there. She was impatiently waiting for him at the doors of the Great Hall.
"What took you so long?" She asked when she saw him walking slowly to him.
Something was at his hands, she tried to see what it was but the sound of his voice distracted her.
"I went to see the farmers." He answered.
She was so beautiful.
"What farmers?"
"You told me a great amount of lands was in need of a master. I was trying to fix this problem." Jon smiled when she blinked in silence, glad he was helping her, and he took her hands with his and left a long kiss at Sansa's forehead.
"Thank you." She said when his lips were at her skin, warming that part of her face.
"You look really good today. Did you cut your hair?"
Jon didn't know from where this was coming from, he just had to say it to her.
"Yeah... but not so much."
"I see."
Sansa was overwhelmed by the feeling that that small conversation was making with her… Jon touching her hands and kissing her forehead... She knew it was innocent from him, but the shivers it cause her body was far from innocent.
She wanted to get closer to him. Closer and closer.
"Shall we go?"
Jon nodded and followed her through the doors. The Lords greeted both of them as they stood up, in respect.
"It's really good to have you with us, Your Grace." Lord Cerwyn said to Jon with a warm smile.
"I am not Your King anymore, my Lord."
Sansa put her hand at Jon's and responded in high tone:
"You'll always be our King.” She paused and then continued. “Can we start?"
Tons of problems were discussed there, Jon shared that the issue with the farmers was fixed for now and he was going to give personal help for them all. The gold was in a great amount and they agreed that a place to give medical support for the Northerners was in need and money should be invested in it. And after all of that, the real reason why Jon was there came from the mouth of Lord Manderley:
"Your Grace, The North is concerned about the future of our lands. We are more than happy and satisfied with the reign of Queen Sansa, but we are not so sure about the future."
"Say your point for once, Lord Manderly." Bran said it. Sansa insisted that he should be there, and nobody was seeing this as a problem, he was a Stark after all.
“We believe your sister should marry and produce heirs. Women or men, we don’t mind, as long as the North remains with the Starks. And independent.” Lord Tallhart words were more honest and direct.
“And your suggestions are?”
"We have great bachelors, Your Grace. But we do not want someone from south." Lord Reed answered Jon.
"My sister is the one who is going to share a life with this man, if she chooses to marry. She will have a say as to who she wants or not." Jon was harsh on his words because everything was really pissing him off.
"I will marry and I will produce heirs." Sansa clarifies after a long silence.
"I know your sister…" Lord Cerwyn said to Jon and Bran "…is the one who should choose but your name was the one we were most comfortable with. Since she's not your sister but your cousin."
"I beg your pardon?!" Jon couldn’t believe what he was hearing .
"You're the only half-stark who remains a loyal friend to the North. You're a great warrior. You're a good man, Your Grace, and the North have you in a high respect."
Jon was in shock. He could not believe in anything he was hearing. He looked at Sansa, remembering when she said she couldn’t tell him what this meeting was about. At his side, she was quiet, embarrassed, she couldn't even look at him.
"If Jon is Sansa's choice, they have my blessing." Bran said so everybody could hear very clearly.
Jon was trying to process everything in his mind, the things that this come with, all the implications of his union with Sansa. And everybody seems to see this as something really normal, even Bran.
…
"Sansa, I'm sorry, I should not have walked into your room like this ..."
Jon was petrified with the scene he was seeing right in front of him, he was utterly sloppy and inconsequential when he simply opened the door of Sansa's chambers and entered without any ceremony. Her sister was in her bath, immersed in a large bathtub with herbs and perfume, her hair caught in a loose mill above her head, eyes closed and neck lying on the copper curve of the tub.
Sansa, on the other hand, was not frightened. She did not tell him to go away at once, much less was discontent at having him there. Jon was intrigued by her sister's reaction and something inside him was producing tons of adrenaline for that moment. And he repressed it more than anything.
"You want things, Jon, that are already yours. There is nowhere to run. Part of you feels you do not deserve it and the other thinks you are wrong. But there’s nothing wrong in your feelings. "
These were Bran's last words before he left the Great Hall yesterday, after the most awkward moment he ever had in his life.
"Stay." Jon had to redo that scene a few times in his mind after hearing Sansa's words. Did he heard right?
"Excuse me?" He asked, not believing what she had asked him to do.
"Rub my back," she continued, but this time she had a yellow sponge in her hand. "I was waiting for the maid, but I do not think she's coming back. I suspect she's having an affair with one of the castle's guards.” She whispered amusingly, naturally, as if Jon was not there in front of her while she was naked.
His rational side was turned off and for a moment he was pure emotion, he saw himself where he should not be - where his mind said he should not be -, passing the sponge down Sansa's back and gently rub her delicate white skin. Her well-drawn neck was adorned with coppery strands of hair that fell from her messy bun, skin full of freckles ... Sansa's back was beautiful.
He grimaced at the strange thought in his mind.
"Are you going back to the Wall?" Sansa was avoiding that question a lot, but she could not anymore. There was no way, it was stuck in her throat. After the dinner, Bran left in Jon’s hands his pardon letter, signed by King Bran and Queen Sansa. He could stay, Sansa wanted to scream this out.
"No."
She contained the smile it was forming on her lips. His hands had already dropped the sponge on the water, but Jon was still touching her wet skin with his hands, unable to break that moment.
"Forever?"
He laughed. He seldom laughed with her, they were almost always fighting over some silly reason.
"At least hide your contentment."
She shook her head and turned to look him in the eye. Both still hadn’t discussed what Sansa's council thought was the right thing for both of them: a union. It seemed an absurd word among them two, vulgar even. But instincts pointed their cravings for a different place that night.
"Why would I?"
"Well, I came here for this. To tell you this. I've sent a raven to Castle Black, writing about my decision to stay in Winterfell. With you."
Sansa didn’t think that after so much suffering things would really work for her. Her family reunited, she had her revenge, Jon killed the mad queen, she was crowned queen and today, right now, she heard Jon saying he would be with her at home for the rest of their lives. She couldn’t know what was going on in his mind about the subject of marriage. To her it all sounded half crazy, half absurd, but she could not help a tiny feeling growing in her thoughts ...
Curiosity.
"Get the oil on the table."
"Sansa." His word was an alert. Alerting them both. An alert for to the scenarios that formed in his head. An alert for what Sansa was planning in her head.
All the issue about Jon and Sansa’s union, the two rulers of the North, the perfect match for the desires and needs of the North, had created strange feelings within the two.
Jon was feeling something gradual, almost imperceptible changes. Sansa started to laugh in a different way for him, her lips had a new rhythm as it moved to speak, her eyes blinked slower and beautifully. But inside of her, it was like a flash of truth coming to the surface, when you realize something that has always been right in front of you.
Sansa was blind but now she sees.
Jon is Jon.
But another Jon. Her Jon. Not Jon, the bastard, son of her father, that her mother made her grow up hating a bit. Jon was the protective man, the warrior who overcame enemies unimaginable by the man. The hero – that somehow - defeated her greatest trauma, beat him almost to death, and allowed her to take her revenge in the way her abuser deserved to have. Jon was the first man who loved her free of obscure intentions or obligation, loved her for being who she was.
His Sansa.
"The shoulders." She guided him when she saw he was already pouring the liquid through his hands at her request.
The rough skin of his palm hand massaging her muscles was heaven, she felt every nerve in her body activate in a strange way, which made her almost jump out of the tub.
"Is everything okay?" Jon asked, watching the water fiddle with her sudden movement, he searched her face to make sure Sansa was really there with him, and it was a mistake.
For a few seconds he judged it as a mistake.
He looked into her eyes, the woman with the hair kissed by the fire was no longer his sister. There was a strange aura around Sansa there, alive inside of her. That didn’t stop him from touching her, even when he saw she was taking her hand from the water and running her fingers over his face.
"I like your beard," she whispered.
Jon didn’t have time to think, Sansa was already hanging her face out of the tub and dragging her lips through his beard. The brutality and delicacy. "It’s so rough in my mouth," she commented through her mouth without detaching herself from his face.
"Sansa ... I don’t think ..." Jon tried to gather words with sense that would lead him to a coherent argument.
He failed.
And as she danced her voluminous lips over his skin, he ran his fragrant oil-soaked hands over her soft white shoulders.
"I'm not scared anymore" she whispered in his ear and for seconds he didn’t understand.
He turned his face away from her and looked her in the eye. Brilliant sapphires, jewels. They had a brighter glow that night. Until he understood Sansa's words.
And then Jon made the second mistake.
A single drop fell from Sansa’s eyes, a tear of happiness mixed with Sansa's smile. It made its way from her eyes, down her cheek, neck, slid into the space between her breasts, and joined the large amount of water in the tub. Her nipples, yes, were rosy with the small, reddish halo. Perfect. They were already out of the water, visible and tempting.
"Aren’t you curious?" She asked when she saw he was using the last bit of control inside of him.
Jon knew that at some point he could no longer control himself, he was already on the edge of an endless chasm. And she knew very well where his thoughts lay, judging by the shiver of his skin. His hand answered her question, descended curiously by the shoulders and stroked her hard nipple. Sansa bit her lip and met his eyes.
"It would be foolish."
"What's necessary is never foolish." She replied.
Jon wanted to ask where she got so many methods of trying a man, how she was so good at it. Or if he was only held hostage to the effects she had on his libido. He felt his hard cock straining against his pants in an uncomfortable way and it all got worse when Sansa came back with her lips to his ear, her tongue counting promiscuous secrets in the form of improper thoughts dancing through his mind, he got in there, then a bite at his ear and then she licked right after. Jon's hand now covered her entire breast, squeezing her deliciously and torturously.
Jon could not bear it, as if you were pushing a bag full of grains beyond its capacity and tried to close it, but the pressure exerted there would blow it up. And it exploded. He took Sansa by the waist and laid her back against the bathtub as he knelt in the middle of her legs - in the water - and gnawed her breast with hunger. Sansa bit her wrist so that the cry coming out of her throat did not catch anyone's attention, especially when his free hand found the valley hidden by her coppery hairs and caressed her intimacy. His fingers were huge - and thick – and they were doing a fantastic job. And his lips and tongue playing and sucking her nipples were more than she could ever imagine asking the gods one day.
Until Sansa found herself falling from the abyss without end. His skin was hot, it was trembling, it was on fire. His joints tingled, his head fried. In her throat the moan was muffled by Jon's mouth and he sucked her tongue as the moment pleasure found her. She would not know if she would survive it, but she didn’t care, she would die happy if that was paradise.
And when her breathing calmed and Jon's lips left simple kisses down her neck, she grabbed his shirt, still with eyes closed, gasping for air. A strange aura hovered there, as if the magnitude of her actions had ugly and irreparable consequences.
It was just irreparable.
Jon got up. He looked at a Sansa, fallen and exhausted, naked in the bath, for one last time and went out the door, leaving her more confused and full of questions than ever.
What had just happened there?
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NOTES:
1. The chapter has been revised by the most incredible D. And I love it! And the gif belongs to my bf littlegirlinvisible.
2. I am very happy with all the reach me and littlegirlinvisible is having after the first three chapters. It may not be much for some but for me it’s a lot.
3. Reblog, like and comment if you’re enjoying.
4. You’re all free to give me prompts and ideas. I am also open to request for another works.
My fanfictions have a lot of smuts, really a lot. If you are not comfortable with this, you are warned.
Follow the tag # swan song jonsa fanfic to see the posts and the gifsets whenever you want.
#HELLO DO YOU HAVE TIME TO HEAR ABOUT HOW THESE TWO KIDS WANT SO BADLY FOR THE OTHER TO VALIDATE THEM#IT’S ALMOST BECOME A DEFINING TRAIT FOR THEM BOTH?????????????#like……………..can we talk about how jon’s insecurities are always made worse whenever he sees that sansa isn’t giving him the okay#which causes him to like doubt himself#like her approval is all he needs to feel secure in his decisions???????????#and how badly sansa wants jon’s respect. and not like respect in the way of him respecting her as a lady but as a political mind#they want each other’s total complete trust SO BADLYYY#and honestly it’s fucking harrowing to think about?????????#jon’s like ‘I WANT YOU TO TRUST ME TO KEEP YOU AND OUR FAMILY AND HOME SAFE#and sansa’s like ‘I WANT THE SAME THING’#they both want the same thing but they have different views of how to get there#and thats the thing that KILLS me#it’s not that they’re at odds for being at odds sake#they genuinely believe they’re right in their respective views but it doesn’t matter unless the other one validates it#that’s where we’re at with these two#a weird strange marriage of convenience with all of the stresses of a relationship. all of the devotion as long time marrieds#BUT SADLY NONE OF THE FUN TIMES???????? AND LOL THAT’S WHY THEY’RE ALWAYS SO ANGRY AT EACH OTHER ALL THE TIME#cause if they were able to operate like a real married couple…….they could bang a lot of this drama out#but alas#…………………………..but i also love it so much. i just *bites fist*#THEY’RE SO EMOTIONALLY CODEPENDENT AND THAT’S REALLY SEXY OF THEM IMO BYE (via beavesaintmarie)
Bless your brilliant tags putting the mood of this scene into words!
We never should have left Winterfell. Don’t you wish we could go back to the day we left? I want to scream at myself, “Don’t go, you idiot.” How could we know?
romaincrisis
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