War of Hearts
It was late in the day, the wind whistling around, blowing wisps of hair from her braid. She’s tense where she sits upon her horse, gloved hands clenching the reigns tightly. The familiar road draws her mind to the first time she traveled it. To the lies - the horror - the beatings. To her father’s death and the delusional dreams of a stupid little girl.
Little Dove. The sound of Cersei’s voice in her head grates at her despite the fact she knows they will not find her in Kings Landing. No, there was a new enemy there - a Targaryon girl calling herself a queen, wishing for Jon to bend the knee. Worry filled her at the prospect, just the thought of Jon going South as every man in her family has done before. The thought of him not returning it breaks something inside of her.
There was a heavy weight against her chest and her demand to make the journey with him had not been a suggestion. He would not go South without her - he would not leave her side for fear that she would never lay eyes upon him again. Sansa would not put much thought into why it was so important to her that Jon live - or why the thought of them so far apart makes her heart twist within her chest. None of that matters right now.
She can feel his eyes on her as they ride, men in front and behind them guiding their journey, protecting their king. She turned her head to where he rides beside her and lifted a brow. “It will be dark soon,” she stated holding his gaze, “Perhaps we should make camp and continue in the morning.” She suggested letting her gaze leave his as a gentle shiver slid down her spine - the action not just from the cold.
She had always been very good at playing her part, at being a proper lady, already back when they were children. Jon had often observed her then as well, secretly admiring how naturally the grace of a highborn heiress came to her. And when father had made her the match with the prince, Jon had thought of the radiant, breathtakingly beautiful queen she’d grow up to be, and somewhere beneath the facade of brotherly pride and support, a pang of something far less selfless twisted his insides.
He’d waved the feeling off, chosen to see it only as yet another reason to head to the Wall. In the heart of a man of the Night’s Watch, there would be no place for such thoughts.
Now, he wasn’t a man of the Night’s Watch anymore. But he was still her brother. And while jealous affection between siblings may have been encouraged among southern families like the Targaryen dynasty, it most certainly wasn’t the Northern way. The Northern way was honor and duty, justice and truth, and as king, it was that much more crucial that he fulfill his own responsibility.
It was why he was riding South, it was why he would lay down his pride and forge a binding alliance with the Dragon Queen, if that’s what it took to gain her support in the fight against the White Walkers. Joining houses by marriage was the surest way to align interests and forces, and whether his heart agreed or not, Jon wasn’t about to refuse what might well be the only way to ensure the survival of his people. Including Sansa.
Yet just the sound of her voice as she spoke made it all too easy for him to agree with the suggestion of setting up camp for the night, and keep delaying the inevitable for a few extra hours.
‘Aye..’ he nodded, his gaze lingering on her even as hers trailed off him. ‘We’ll settle here for the night. Wait out the darkness.’









