❆ Northbound ❆
King in the North ! Jon Snow x Fem!reader
Part 1/?
Summary: As the daughter of a Northern Lady, you spent a lot of time in Winterfell growing up. Fate rips you out of the North, but 13 years later you receive a raven. The King is looking to marry, and he has had you on his mind for a while.
w/c - 6.9k (sorry, not really)
a/n - I had every intention of making a smutty drabble but literally could not stop myself from making up lore. There will be more parts until I get bored but trust and believe smut will be coming soon. This is my first real fic so bear with me girls!! This will be cute and very fluffy, im too sensitive for angst </3 Also if you can't tell by the first few sentences I love Sansa Stark!
294 AC ( 4 years before The Starks left Winterfell)
You burst out of your castle doors, huffing and angry, a little lady who has just celebrated her ninth name day.
“I do not wish to go mama!” You stamp your feet
“Well that is too bad. In the carriage you go”
Your mom, First born of Lord Dustin, smiles down at you
“I hate long rides! And I detest the way Cley smells when we are cooped up in this carriage!”
Your little brother, Cley, punches you in the arm. You return the hit with a slap, soon the two of you are rolling in the snow
“What in Gods name is going on down here?”
Your heads snap up to see your father, walking out of the castle trying to hide the smile on his face
It always made you laugh, seeing his face when the courtyard was busy. He stuck out like a sore thumb.
“Nothing, father” you say innocently as you remove your grip on Cley.
He was born in the Reach, the second son to Lord Caswell. As life goes, second sons do not receive much in life. Caswell is a noble house, yes, but not noble enough to have multiple holds for the picking. He knew this, his whole life he knew this. He met your mother when he was ten and six, and they married. He moved up north to Barrow Hall to become Lord of Barrowtown, mama by his side.
“Lord Stark has called for all the houses to gather for a feast, you will go. Besides, aren’t you excited to see Lady Sansa again?” Father smiles down at you softly
Truly, you did want to see Sansa, she had been your friend for many years. Distance kept you apart but as soon as you both could write, you sent Ravens to each other often.
A soft ‘fine’ escapes your lips as you stomp your way into the carriage.
“Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we-”
Your head snaps to your brother, eyes narrow “Cley I am going to kill you”
Your parents say your name with a gasp, shocking and scolding
“What kind of lady speaks that way?” Your mother slaps your hand softly “You will not embarrass us in front of Lord and Lady Stark”
“Yes mama” you groan out softly. Your face lightens up when you see Winterfell in the distance, excitement coursing through you.
It feels like an eternity when the carriage finally comes to a halt. You climb over your mother and father, practically falling out of the carriage doors. Your Father tries to wrangle you back but it is too late. You had your eyes on Sansa. The Stark family was lined up in the courtyard, ready to politely receive their guests, you could spot that red hair from a mile away
“SANSA!” you shout out running towards her, she sees your head pop up from the carriage and runs towards you, shouting your name. You meet in the middle, giggles filling the courtyard as your Mother, Father, and brother file out of the carriage.
Your father steps forward, giving a small bow to Lord Stark
“Apologies, My Lord, she's been talking about lady Sansa the whole ride”
Lord Ned Stark smiles softly “That is quite alright Lord Dustin, my daughter has been doing the same. You know they write to each other?" Ned asks with a small smile.
Your father nods with a small laugh “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am the one who spell checks them mostly”
Your mother and brother politely go down the line, bidding hello to the Starks. Your father calls for you, and you walk over to him.
“Do not be rude” he tells you, his eyes warning as you walk over to Lord and Lady Stark with a curtsey
“Hello!” you smile softly as you look at them, they return your smile.
“Hello little Lady, you’ve grown since I’ve last seen you” Lord Stark gives you a pat on the head.
You walk over and curtsey politely to the rest of the Stark children; Robb, Arya, and Bran. You then quickly turn on your heels and run towards Sansa, giggling hand in hand. Your father shakes his head
“Congratulations are in order for you both” Your mother says as she gestures to Catelyn's pregnant belly.
Catelyn smiles “We’re thinking of naming him Rickon”
Sansa is practically dragging you through the castle.
“I have so many things to show you” she giggles over her shoulder. You huff and puff behind her, following quickly. She takes a sharp corner and-
“Ow ow ow” you fall on your bottom. You slammed into a wall, hissing on your way down.
“Sansa you should watch where you drag me-” you look up and your sentence catches in your throat. A boy, no more than ten and one sits on the floor in front of you, dazed and confused. You think he might be the most handsome boy in the world.
“I- I am so sorry” you scramble to your feet embarrassed, you look to Sansa for some help but she's just glaring at the boy
She calls your name softly “Come on, let us go”
You look at the boy again, this time he has a small smile on his face.
“You should watch where you’re running”
His voice makes you blush and your heart soars. You can't muster up any words so you just nod and walk to follow behind Sansa. Once you both enter her chambers and the door closes, you look at her.
“Who was that?”
You try to keep your cool, but the look on your face spills all your secrets. Sansa's eyes narrow.
“My fathers bastard” she speaks coldly, you’ve never seen her like that.
“Oh”
You’ve heard of the bastard of Winterfell, but you’ve never seen him. You hardly knew what a bastard was anyway, you knew his parents weren’t married when he was born but no one seemed to explain anything to you further.
“How does one have a bastard anyway?” you ask thoughtfully at Sansa, and she blinks.
“I don't know, I never asked.” She replies back thoughtfully. The two of you play in her room until the servants come get you. The feast is about to begin.
You and Sansa enter the great hall together, she takes her place at the main table and you scan the room to find your family. Your eyes fall on your brother's stupid face, and you take a seat at the table. Your father turns to you.
“There you are! Did you have fun with Lady Sansa?”
“Father, how does one have a bastard?” your fathers eyes widen as he chokes on his wine “What?”
You cock your head at him, asking genuinely
“Well if babies in a mama's belly are gifts from the gods for when you get married, how does one get a bastard?” Your mother throws her hand on her face.
“No more questions, eat your dinner” your mom says quietly. You nod and take a bite of your bread. Scanning the room for the boy you met.
Your father catches your eye. “What are you looking for?”
“A boy I saw earlier” you reply back softly.
Your parents exchange amused glances.
“I bumped into him in the hall when Sansa was leading me around. He is very handsome.” you take another bite of bread.
Your mother smiles softly “Did Lady Sansa know who the boy was?”
you nod “Yes, she said he was her fathers bastard” you take another bite.
Your mother and fathers faces drop, no longer amused
“No.” Your fathers tone is serious, your brother Cley starts to laugh. You pinch him under the table.
“No, what?” you furrow your brow confused “I am just looking for him”
“No. No more looking for him, and no more talking to him.” There's a finality in his voice that you have heard from him before, and you do not like it. He speaks again
“It is the same thing as that butcher's boy. No”
Your face twists at his words. You liked that butcher's boy, he was handsome and nice, your father forbade you from playing with him.
“Well that was stupid and this is stupid.” you huff and cross your arms
“You will mind your manners, I am your father.” you grumble a bit but let it go, Cley laughs across from you.
“Stupid girl, you’re supposed to be a lady” you kick him roughly under the table. Your father rises from the table to mingle with the other lords, and you sit and pout.
“Mama, I am going to see Sansa” she waves you off with a small smile.
The grand hall is very full, Northern Lords and Ladies gathered all in this room, you use it to your vantage and slip out. You walk through the castle halls, standing on the overhang that looks down at the courtyard. There he is, shirtless and hitting a sparring dummy with his sword.
“Hey” you call out with a smile and he quickly looks up at the noise. Heat creeps up your face, You’ll be in big trouble if your father finds out you're here. He smiles at you softly.
“Whats your name?” he asks from below, he already knows it. He’s known you for a long while. You giggle and give it to him. “Ah, Lord Dustin's daughter” he nods thoughtfully
“And yours?” you call back
“Jon,” he says with a smile. A small blush dusts his cheeks. He's young, ten and one, and he thinks for a moment that you are the kindest girl he’s ever met. Surely the prettiest.
“I have no go now” you giggle “I don’t want my father to know I’ve gone” with that you slip away into the great hall. Jon thinks about you for the rest of the night.
The next morning it was time to return home to Barrowtown, you and Sansa blubber in each other's arms, promising to write at every opportunity. Lord Stark and your father shake hands, smiling at the two of you. You climb halfway into the carriage and see Jon, brooding in the distance. You offer him a quick smile and a wave, one he returns subtly. Your parents do not catch this small gesture, but Ned Stark does.
The minute the carriage pulls into the gates of Barrow Hall, there is commotion. Your father hops out quickly to see what is going on.
“My Lord, a letter from Bitterbridge arrived this morning” Your fathers brows furrow in confusion “Is it from my brother?” he asks, and grabs the small parchment from the servants hands. His eyes scanned the pages and mouth dropped open.
“What is it?” your mother asks, soft and gentle
“My brother is dead” Your father tries to hide the small smile from creeping up on his face. He detested his brother. He knows that Bitterbridge was his birthright, As the eldest son of Lord Caswell, of course he would become Lord Caswell. But your father felt he never deserved it, never took it seriously. When your parents moved up North, to claim your mothers ancestral home and family name, your father and uncle never spoke again.
“He has no children” Your father clears his throat “After all these years, he refused to marry. Died in drunken stupor. They say he fell down the stairs trying to find his chambers.” Your family exchanges glances softly. There's a look in your fathers eyes that you do not recognize.
“How long until the funeral” you ask, soft and sad. You did not know your uncle, but your heart hurt a bit.
“I do not know” your father replies curtly “But I am the last surviving heir of House Caswell and we must go”
Silence falls over your mother, brother, and you.
“What about my house? House Dustin?” your mother asks her hand shaking.
Your fathers face seems almost unrecognizable. His usual kindness replaced by something else. “You have a younger brother.” His words were cold and direct to your mother. “It belonged to him by birthright anyway.”
You did not want to go to the Reach, this was your home, where you were born. Before you could protest your father was calling for the guards to send word to your mothers brother, the new Lord Dustin of Barrowtown and to pack our things. You hang your head. You’ll write to Sansa when you get there.
307 AC (2 years after the night king was defeated)
“My lady” you feel a soft shake on your arm as you blink your eyes open “Happy name day”. You smile at the girl next to you and sit up in bed “Thank you, Margaret”. She was your ladies maid, and the kindest girl you ever knew.
“Your father requested your presence in the great room” you groan aloud at her words and she smiles apologetically.
you throw your legs off the bed and rub your eyes. “Let me guess, another marriage proposal?” you look at her, disdain in your voice.
She smiles shyly in response. “Lets get you ready”.
Your shoes clacking on the stones echo through the halls of Bitterbridge castle, walking through the doors of the great room. Your eyes land on your father, he is waiting for you.
“You’re late.” His voice booms slightly. Power changed your father, the kind and insecure man became rough, and cruel.
“Forgive me, father, I had just woken up.” you say back, voice flat. “Where is mother?”.
After leaving the North your mother had retreated into herself, kind and gentle became cold and empty. You can count the times she's smiled in the last 13 years on your hand. She left you to fend for yourself against your fther and brother.
He ignores your question and continues on “It is your name day. A woman of twenty and two, do you wish to spit on our family name by becoming a lowly spinster?” his eyes narrow
You roll your eyes at him. Remembering the proposals that had started flooding in when you were just ten and four. Some of them were cruel, old, or just not right. Not that it mattered anyway, you did not wish to be shipped off to a foreign place where you have no name, no power, and expected to spit out heirs half a second after you arrive.
“I wish to become The Lady Caswell” you spit back, having this same conversation for years. The thought of leaving the smallfolk of Bitterbridge alone one day with your brother made you sick. They were good people, you love those people.
“The King in the North has sent word, he is inviting unwed Noble ladies to the Castle. He wishes to marry.” your father says directly “I am coming with you, to ensure you behave yourself. I will not let an incident occur like the one that happened with Lord Cole”. You have to choke back a smile at those words. Lord Cole was an idiot, so you simply acted like you were insane until he retracted his proposal.
Your heart does swell at the thought of seeing Sansa again, the last letter you received from her was 9 years ago. She told you about how she was to marry the prince Joffery, you could almost hear her excitement off the pages. You hadn’t heard from her again. You swallow, thinking of Lord Stark and young Rob, they were good people, very kind to you and your family. You shake the thoughts out of your head and look up at your father. “I don’t wish to be a queen” you grumble out.
“You’re the only woman on the continent who has ever uttered those words. Your bags have been packed, we leave within the hour.”
A week into the trip, you want to kill your father. Or yourself. The carriage is crowded and he won’t stop talking.
“Your job as a noble lady is to be married to a noble man, extending our allyship. You do not have to love him, I do not love your mother.” Your face twists, much like your heart, at his words.
They did love each other, you know they did. He ruined it the day we left Barrowhall. He ruined your family. You ignore him, not wanting to fight in these close quarters. You just look out the window.
After three long weeks, you finally see Winterfell appear into view, you remember how excited you were last time you were here. Your excitement has been replaced with fear. So much fear. The carriage stops abruptly in the courtyard, a guard opens the door. You have never been happier to stand and stretch in your life, you practically dive out.
Your head whips up at the sound of your name. There she is, older, but just as beautiful as you remember. “Sansa” you whisper back, you feel the tears slip out of your eyes as you take a step toward her. She walks over to you slowly, you stand frozen for a minute, and envelop her in the tightest hug you’ve ever given anyone.
“I’ve missed you”
“I’ve missed you so much”
Whispers and apologies were said between each other, sorry for what happened, sorry for not being there, sorry for not writing. Sansa steps back and wipes her eyes with a small laugh. You squeeze her hand. The sound of throat clearing makes you turn your head. There he stood.
“Apologies, your grace” you scramble in front of him and curtsy. When you rise from your curtsy and look at him, you realize who he is. The bastard boy you had met the last time you were here. Your mouth parts at him softly and closes again.
“Nice to see you again, My lady” his voice is warm, and sweet, much deeper than it was last you heard it. He was just a boy then, but now, he is a man. His face, more handsome, and a bit worn, but his eyes are the same ones you snuck out of the great hall to see.
“I did not know who the King of the North was, but I did not think it was you” You smile softly “Oh, um Your Grace!” you add nervously, wanting to leave Winterfell with your head.
Jon laughs softly “You do remember me.” your breath catches in your throat, he remembers you as well. You open your mouth to respond.
“Your Grace!” your father bows in front of him, cutting you off. “My daughter and I are most honored to be here.” His head turns to the carriage arriving in the courtyard, another very pretty girl pops her head out. “I’ll leave you to greet your other guests”.
Jon nods at him, his face softening when he looks at you “I’ll have someone show you to your chambers . There will be a small feast tonight, in about an hour's time.” you nod and curtsy politely with a smile, and look at Sansa “I’ll see you later” you giggle at her, and turn your head back to Jon “Your grace” you give a polite nod as you follow the maid into the castle.
Sansa turns to look at him, a small smirk on her face.
“What?” Jon looks back at her with a small smile
She shakes her head and greets the next guest, a little less friendly.
Sat on the end of the bed in your chambers, dressed for the feast. A warm green gown picked out, as much as you missed the North and all its charm, the fashion of the reach was much better. There is a pit in your stomach. Lucky for you, you were allowed separate chambers from your father, his incessant scolding would’ve driven you to murder.
A knock on the door rouses you from your thoughts.
“My Lady? I’ve come to escort you the the Great Hall, the feast is about to begin”
You smile softly, taking a deep breath and standing up. You swing the door open, and look at the maid with a small hello. She walks you down the hallways, you look around. It feels so familiar and so foreign. She stops at a large set of doors and opens them for you.
You enter a very crowded room, full of Lords, and young ladies vying for the attention of the king. You scan the room, the only familiar face you can find is your father, and you decide quietly sulking in the corner is better than dealing with him right now. You turn your head to the other end of the room, and see Sansa sitting next to Jon, you decide to leave them alone. He should busy himself with talking to ladies who actually wish to marry. So you decide to walk around until your eyes fall on a very large man with very messy ginger hair.
“Where are you from?” you approach the man, a small smile on your face.
“The North” he almost grunts out, you cock your head
“Yes I figured, we are in the North” you smile and try to be polite
“No” he laughs “We are in the south, I’m from the true North” You blink at him a few times, lost.
“I’m from North of The Wall” your eyes open wide at his words.
“What is your name?” you ask curiously. “I’ve never met anyone North of The Wall”
“Tormund Giantsbane. Do you want to hear where I got my name from?” your smile eggs him on, he begins to tell the story, until a big hand lands on your shoulder.
“Trust me, you do not want to hear that” Jon stands behind you, your breath catches slightly.
“Your Grace” you turn around and curtsy at him “I think I might” you smile softly
“I assure you my lady, you do not. And I believe I told Tormund not to tell anyone that story tonight.” Tormund just shrugs and takes a sip of his drink.
“Are you avoiding me?” Jon asks with a small smile playing on his lips.
“Of course not Your Grace!” You offer him a nervous smile, trying to sound sincere.
Jon's smile is light on his lips “It’s okay if you are, I won’t be offended” He leans back against a table, staring at you. “Would you like a drink?”
I smile softly, my cheeks getting warm. “My father might throw a fit if he finds out I have been drinking, but thank you” Jon laughs
“You’re what, twenty and two and your father won’t let you have wine?” He smiles playfully “The Lord Caswell of Bitterbridge sounds strict”
You groan “You have no idea. Whenever he inherited our uncle's title, he went crazy.” you roll your eyes with a laugh “ladies don't drink, ladies don't run, ladies don't shout” you say in a mocking voice.
Jon smiles looking at you “You haven’t changed much, you know. Just taller.” he breathes “When we met, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. You were kind. kind to me, kind to servants, kind to everyone.”
Your cheeks glow at the intensity of his words “I thought you were very handsome.” you admit softly “So handsome that when I told my father I had met you he yelled at me in the great hall” your laugh brings a smile to Jon's face. “And I still snuck out to find you”
“And look at him now, offering you up to marry me.” Your face falls a bit at his words.
“Your Grace, may I speak freely?” Jon's smile falters at the polite words, but he nods. “I do not wish to be married.” you swallow nervously “ I wish to inherit my fathers titles and my home.”. Jon blinks at you for a moment.
“Do you think you could?” He asks thoughtfully.
“He has been trying to marry me off since I was ten and three. It has not worked yet. He's growing weary” Jon smiles, a little sad at your words.
“I’d be good to you, you know” his eyes crinkle at the corners.
“I believe that, I do.” you breathe softly “ Go on, there are plenty of pretty ladies who I’m sure want me dead for talking to you for so long.” you give him a laugh, feeling the weight off your shoulders. You set off to find Sansa in the crowd.
As soon as you walked off, disappointment crossed Jon's face. He never stopped thinking about you, truly. The pretty girl who had captured his heart at such a young age. He could force you to marry him, you would not be the first Lady dragged into her own wedding. He shook off the thought of that, he was dar too honorable and kind to do that to you. Not to mention, you would never forgive him. He swallows his frustration as he searches the room, looking for you. His eyes fall on your father. He walks over to him.
“Lord Caswell, are you enjoying yourself?” He places a big hand on your fathers shoulder, like he was greeting an old friend.
“Your Grace, I am, thank you. Have you spoken to my daughter yet, I can try and find her?” Your father turns around, searching for you.
“It’s quite alright, my lord. I spoke to her earlier.” Jon swallows, feeling guilty for what he's about to do.
He has waited for everything his whole life. He wanted to be a Stark, he wanted to be a king. He was done with sitting and waiting. He wants you. And he knows how he is going to make it happen.
“She told me she does not wish to be married?”
Your father quietly seethes, he thought that he got through to you during the ride up to Winterfell. “Your Grace, she forgets herself sometimes.” your father mutters your name like a curse.
“It’s quite alright, My Lord, I do not intend to force anyone to marry me. I am no Lord Ashford.” He laughs dryly. “ Though I heard that he’s looking for another wife”. With that he walks away. Lord Ashford is an unsightly and perverted old man, His wives are younger than many of his children, and he always seems to be in the market for another one soon after. He knows it's wrong, but he hopes putting the idea into your fathers head will drive you into his arms. And you’ll never have to know. He walks over to a servant girl
“If you hear any commotion in Lord or Lady Caswell's chambers tonight, please come and get me.”
Hours go by. You’re exhausted and your feet are killing, you decide to slip away from the feast and head back to your chambers. The crowd is thinning out anyway. You walk down the hall and into the room, and flop down on the bed with a grunt.
You stand up and slip into your night gown, removing the various pins from your hair when your door flies open. Your head whips around.
“Do you ever learn? Do you?” your father is seething with rage, a vein pops out on his forehead. “You will never be lady of Bitterbridge, do you hear me?” He's about half an inch from your face as he's screaming.
“Lord Ashford is looking for another wife, you will be married and that is final. I will send a raven come first light. He will not mind if I drag you to the altar.”
Your blood runs cold at his words. “I will not.” Your breathing quickens
He grabs your arm tight “You will. I will not let you bring shame to our family name any longer.” He spits out your name with disgust. Panicked you try and rip your arm away
“Let me go! Let me go!”
“Is everything alright?” you both freeze and turn, Jon is standing in your chambers.
“I am so sorry Your Grace, My daughter and I were just getting ready to leave” your mouth is dry, shooting pain from your arm where he's grabbed you, you look at Jon.
You know you have to make a choice. Your father has threatened this before, to drag you to the altar by your hair, but most of the Lords you turned down are uninterested afterwards. You knew Lord Ashford would not mind a fight.
“I’ll marry you! Please!” you sputter out, voice quick and afraid. Your eyes scan Jon's face, worried it is too late .
“Alright, Lord Caswell, hands off my intended”. Your father removes his hands quickly, a small smile crossing his face “Well, that is good news. I’ll write to your mother” He walks out.
Jon kneels down in front of you “Are you alright?” He holds your arm gently in his hands, making sure nothing is wrong.
You nod quickly “yes, yes I’m okay.” the gravity of what just happened falls on your chest as you look at Jon. Jon looks back at you.
“We’ll talk in the morning. Get some rest.” he raises your hand to his mouth, lips brushing your knuckles before walking out of the room.
You’re left alone in the room, your mind is reeling. That's it. You’ll never see your home again. You never said goodbye to your brother and mother. You were so confident that you would be back. It's not like they cared anyway. The family you loved had died with your uncle. And you can't go home to fix it.
You find the strength to stand up and crawl under the furs on the bed. You weep silently into your pillow, mourning for the life you had fought so long for.
A small knock on the door rouses you from your sleep. You sit up on the bed, rubbing your eyes.
“Hello?” you call out. The sun is just peaking over the horizon, flooding your room with light. The door creaks open.
“My Lady” a nice older woman walks in, with a bright smile. “His Grace and Lady Sansa have requested you to come to the hall and have breakfast with them. I am here to help you get ready”
You try to bring a smile to your face despite the pounding of your heart. The events of last night flood in. Your whole life has been flipped on its side and you can’t seem to have a single coherent thought without your body spiraling to panic. Despite the feeling of impending doom, you stand from the bed. The woman helps you dress and leads you to the great hall.
You walk through the doors with your hands clasped in front of you and look up to see Sansa and Jon smiling.
“Good morning Sansa, Your Grace” you nod politely with a small smile. Jon gestures to the empty seat in between them. Once you sit he turns his head to look at you.
“Did you sleep okay?” His eyes are warm, trying not to frighten you.
“Yes” you whisper softly, your voice shaking
“You sound like a kitten” Sansa laughs a bit “I heard what happened, I am sorry”. She places her hand over yours, the gesture is comforting.
“Your father left at some point last night.” Jon eyes you, checking for some sort of reaction
Your heart drops a bit. “Good” you say plainly, not sure if you mean it.
“Eat” Jon points at your plate. “I did not see you eat last night”
You eye him softly “I ate last night”
How the hell would he know if you didn’t.
“Don’t lie to me. Eat” There is no real seriousness in his voice, not wanting to make you any more nervous than he already has. “I am going to work out a few details for the wedding. You ladies enjoy your breakfast” he steps away from the table and you turn to Sansa
“I’m Jon Snow, eat your breakfast” You point to her full plate with a laugh, making your voice deep and trying to copy his accent. Jon stops in his tracks and turns around.
Sansa laughs loudly as you stare at him, your cheeks warming.
“Your grace I am sorry I was just joking” you feel like you want to crawl out of your skin.
Jon gives you a laugh and shakes his head “I don't sound like that. Eat.”
You nod quickly and take a bite of your bread, Sansa wiping her eyes from laughing so hard.
“He does sound like that.” you smile, chewing the bread in your mouth. Sansa smiles at you.
“Jon is a good man” Sansa looks at you softly “He will never hurt you, that I promise. He seems to like you a lot already. And we will be sisters, what we’ve always dreamed of”
You grab her hand in yours and squeeze, feeling some of the nerves die down. You guess if it had to be anyone, you're glad it's Jon. He is handsome, and he seems kind.
“You should talk to him later, he won’t bite” Sansa states again and you nod, a little embarrassed at the thought.
“Okay” you breathe, and swallow your last bit of breakfast “I will”
Sansa smiles at you, and stands up “I have a few things to get done today, I’ll see you later”
You watch her walk off and out of the hall, and stand up, smiling at the servant who takes your empty plate. You decide to take a little walk.
The sound of your boots bounce off the walls, echoing quietly as you walk. You twist and turn, trying to learn the layout. A beautiful painting on the wall catches your eye, you admire it as you walk. All of a sudden your face is knocked into a hard chest.
“Are you alright?” You look up and see Jon smiling at you
“Deja Vu” you laugh, your face warming up “I’m fine”
“I was looking for you, can we talk?” He places his hand on your shoulder.
“Yes, Your Grace, of course.” His eyes narrow a bit at your words.
“And cut that out. Where is the girl who used to beat her brother in the courtyard?” He smiles wide with a small laugh “Just call me Jon.”
You follow a step behind him down the corridor, until he stops and pushes a brown door open. His chambers. He walks in and steps to the side.
“Come in, it's alright” You swallow nervously as you step in, watching as he closes the door behind him. “I wanted to talk to you alone, and see how you’re feeling”
Your heart jumps a little at his concern, you watch him pull out a seat at the small table in the corner of the room, gesturing for you to sit.
“Im alright, really” You sit in the seat, uttering a small thank you when he pushes you in.
“I just wanted to make sure you knew that if you needed anything, you could come talk to me” He takes a seat in the chair opposite you and offers you a warm smile. “I promise, I’m not going to hurt ya”
You try to focus on your breathing, you know that, but do you? How many men have seemed harmless then turned once it's too late to go back? What do you know of being a wife, never mind a queen?
Jon notices your mind racing and places a hand on yours “Hey” he mutters softly. His words make you blink back to reality.
“Jon” his name seems foreign on your tongue now, he's a king “Are you sure you don't want someone else? Call one of those other ladies ba-”
“No.” He cuts you off, a finality in his voice that makes you sit up a little straighter “I don't want anyone else” You blink at him a few times.
“Jon I” you breathe in “I don’t know how to be a queen.” you look down, your hands suddenly the most intriguing thing in the room. “Or a wife. No one ever taught me the things you should know” The words are spilling out of your mouth, you can’t stop them.
He says your name softly “Look at me”
You slowly raise your eyes to see him, you can feel your heartbeat in your throat.
“Is that what you’re worried about?” He's scanning your face, making sure he fully understands. “Don’t be worried, I promise I would never lay a hand on you that you did not want.” he smiles softly “I’ll teach you everything you need to know about being queen. It’s mainly just boring meetings” he laughs softly, trying to put you at ease “I promise I’ll teach you everything you need to know, when you’re ready” Your face burns hot at the implications, it doesn't help that he's still staring into your soul.
You let out a shaky breath.
“Everything I’ve ever wanted has slipped out of my fingers.” You try to fight the tears back, it feels like you’ve swallowed glass. “My father used to be a good man, a kind man. The day my uncle died and we returned back home to Bitterbridge, there was a shift. A change that I never fully understood.”
You shake your head, “He used to tell me that although I looked just like him, I acted just like my mother. He told me he loved that.” Jon's eyes never leave your face.
“He taught me how to climb trees, and play, and how to punch my brother just right so I don’t hurt him too badly, but I could get him off my back.” a pained laugh escapes your lips. “He never seemed to mind that he had married into my mothers family, not the other way around. Once he got the chance to truly be a lord, to take back his home that he felt he deserved somehow, everything was about image. How I walked, how I talked, how I danced - everything.”
Jon's eyes soften at your emotion, he fights back the urge to wrap you in a hug and whisper in your ear until the tears dry. Instead he rubs his thumb on your knuckles, urging you to continue.
“And my brother? My father allowed him to get worse. Far worse. I wanted to inherit Bitterbridge for myself, those good and kind people struggle under my father every day. I want to help them. I can’t do that now. It won’t get better when my brother becomes Lord either.” you stop yourself, feeling guilty for dropping this on the poor man who just wanted to check up on you.
“Let me tell you something.” Jon speaks up, his kind eyes staring at you. “I have had my eyes on you since the first day you stepped into Winterfell. Twice a year like clockwork when your family would come, I’d wait for you. I knew better than to approach the Little Lady Dustin, but I’d watch your head poke out of that carriage and run for my sister. I had never seen a girl like you.” The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles, your heart starts beating wildly.
“You looked like a proper lady, and talked like one around adults, then the minute you were alone your mouth would run wild. I remember when I was seven, you had come to visit. It was the summer feast. You and Sansa had been playing tag in the courtyard, and Lord Umber's youngest son came along, and he pushed you to the ground.”
“I remember that, the little shit”
Jon laughs at your words, and continues “I went to walk over, when all of a sudden your tiny little fist went flying at his face. I’ll never forget it. That night, I told my father that I wanted to marry you. Of course, he tried to explain that I couldn't, but I did not care. And for years I sat and watched you, you had my little heart in the palm of your hands.” He laughs quietly at his words and looks at you.
“So you’ve been stalking me since I was a babe?” Your words hold no malice, a small smirk rises on your lips as you say it.
“Aye, I was a creepy little shit back then. I knew I couldn’t talk to you, and your family never stayed long enough for me to sneak around to see you. Sansa would’ve had my head back then, anyway.”
Another smile crosses your face, nostalgic for the past.
“I met a girl, when I was out behind the wall. She reminded me a lot of you. She wasn’t as nice, and surely wasn’t a proper lady, but you both had a sharp tongue about you”
You look in his eyes, and they seem a little sad. You don’t push any further.
“I bet she was lovely.”
Jon smiles at you “Are you feeling better? At all?”
You give him a small nod and a grateful smile “I am.”
He smiles back at you “Good.” and takes your hand.
“In three days time I am going to be your husband. I swear to you, by all the old Gods and the new that I will protect and care for you till my dying day.”
