#jonsa fluff

…

“Hot by the Beach” was posted on my Patreon in August 2024. To read it fully now and have early access to everything I do, subscribe to my page. It's just $2 a month and I promise you won't regret it.

…

Tag list is open.

Fighting. That’s what his life had always been. Fighting and surviving. He hadn’t lied to Sansa when he’d told her he was sick of fighting. He’d been tired than, weary to the bone. He had just come back from the dead, after dying for a cause he’d sworn an oath to serve his brothers. In his mind, he had carried out his term, had served his duty, and had felt no guilt when passing on the cloak to Eddison. His watch had ended.

Jon could never quite forget the words Benjen Stark had said to him, when he had first expressed his desire to take the black. “Until you have known a woman, you cannot understand what you would be giving up.” His younger self insisted he didn’t care about that, but his uncle knew better. “You might, if you knew what it meant. If you knew what the oath would cost you, you might be less eager to pay the price, son.”

It wasn’t until Jon married Sansa did he begin to learn. It wasn’t until his eyes first landed on their newborn daughter did he know.

“She has your hair,” Sansa murmured, unable to look away from their young daughter, much like himself. Those dark wisps of chocolate grew darker by the hour, contrasting starkly against her porcelain skin. He yearned to reach out and touch her but did not want to disturb her as their daughter was curled up comfortably in her mother’s arms.

Her name was Calla Lily Stark, a child of the spring, though the North deeply ran through her veins. She was so incredibly tiny, a tiny bundle of pink perfection. He hardly knew what to do with himself, so overcome with emotion the moment he saw her. He felt Sansa’s warm, happy gaze on him, and her returned it before his gaze was drawn back to the little human in her arms, his expression wondrous.

Suddenly, Lily wrinkled her nose in her sleep and stirred. The new parents held their breath, waiting until the movement subsided. She turned her face against Sansa’s breast and released a small huffing exhale that filled Jon with overwhelming affectionate.

“She’s perfect,” he murmured hoarsely. “And she’s all ours.”

“I loved her before I even knew her,” Sansa admitted, gently stroking her hair. “Does that make any sense? How is that possible?”

“It does,” he said. Slowly, carefully, he lowered himself into the bed beside her. His arm wrapped around her shoulders gently. “Are you well?”

She nodded and gave him a tired smile. “Tired, and more than a bit sore, but I’ll be fine.” She turned her attention back to Lily as she continued to stroke her cheek. “She was worth it all.”

Sansa had given him quite a scare when she had first gone into labor. He hadn’t been with her when it happened, which still upset him several hours later. He had been overseeing the progress of the new schools being established in Winterfell when a young maiden, pale faced and breathless, had run to him to tell him the news. After everything he had faced in his life, including going up against the Night King, he couldn’t think of anything that came close to the fear he had felt, fear for his wife’s safety, for welfare of their child.

In the end, the midwife had taken care of both mother and child safely. He hadn’t left since.

“Do you want to hold her?” she asked him, knowing him all too well.

Jon hesitated. “I don’t want to wake her.” Then he smiled at the obvious reluctance on his wife’s face. “And it’s apparent you don’t want to give her up.”

Sansa smiled sheepishly. “You’re right. But she is your daughter, too. You should hold her, when she wakes.”

Lily’s little fists were curled against her lap, twitching ever so lightly. Jon wondered what she was dreaming of, what she was thinking of. Unable to help himself, he reached down and gently touched her hand with a finger, marveling at the contrast in size. The twitching stopped immediately, and briefly, Jon panicked, his gaze locking onto her face.

Lily’s eyelids fluttered open after a few slow, sleepy blinks. She looked at her mother then slowly towards him. Their gazes held. Suddenly her tiny fist opened and his finger was enveloping in her tiny hand. His heart squeezed the moment her fist squeezed his finger. And just like that she had him, right where she wanted him. She had his heart in her hand. There was no fighting it, a fight he had no intention of engaging.

Jon inhaled sharply, his throat tightening with emotion. Sansa pressed a hand to his cheek, her thumb caressing his face. It wasn’t until she touched him did he realize he’d begun to cry.

There was nothing in this world that could make Jon walk away from this, nothing short of the gods’ intervention themselves. He would die a thousand deaths to protect the woman that he loved and their daughter. As much as he loved Ned Stark as a father, he remembered all too distinctly what it was like to grow up on the outside and never quite fitting in. He’d felt the shame of being a bastard, remembered Catelyn’s scorn, the treatment he’d received, yet he still knew he’d had it better than most. Still, the hurt and pain that came from the label bastard still haunted him, even though he had never truly been one.

“You are our heart, littlest wolf,” he murmured, watching as Lily tugged his finger closer to her chest. “You are here, and you are loved. You’ll want for nothing. No harm will ever come to you. You have my word, as your father.”

And then Lily smiled, her expressive eyes crinkling in the corners. Gods, she was already a heart breaker and only hours old yet.

Sansa kissed his cheek, and when she withdrew, he saw she was crying as well, tears of joy and love. “You’ll be a wonderful father,” she assured him. “As you are already a wonderful husband. I couldn’t ask for a better life.”

Jon closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer to the gods. He hoped he would be. And with Sansa at his side, he hoped they would raise a large family together.

Turning to Sansa, he murmured reverently, “You are a blessing, Sansa, and you have given me the most wonderful…” Swallowing, he pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

Tilting her face, Sansa pressed her mouth to his, her lips softly gliding over his. It didn’t last long as a soft mewl from the bundle in her arms drew their attention.

Lily squeezed his finger again, looking up at him almost expectantly. Sansa laughed quietly, understanding her daughter’s intention. “All right, little one. You want to meet your father.” Shifting Lily’s weight carefully, she waited until Jon was ready and slowly passed her to him.

Jon’s arms were filled with a small weight of warmth. Lily refused to relinquish his finger and continued to reassert her claim to it, squeezing and releasing at random.

He lowered his face towards her and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, holding her close. After a few moments of uninhibited wonder, he looked at Sansa. “You should get some rest. I’ve got her.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, even as she yawned. She was resting her head against Jon’s shoulder, watching him watch their daughter and back again.

“I’m sure,” he said and smiled. “I’ll take the first watch.”

Sansa kissed his shoulder and shifted on the bed, wincing a little at the moving of sore muscles. Sleep didn’t take long to claim her. With his wife sleeping soundly beside him, Jon held their baby girl in his arms. “I trust you’ll return my finger at some point,” he asked amusedly.

Growing up, Sansa had always been a planner, and it was a good plan she had ever since she was twelve - study hard, get good grades, work in the city, write a book, meet someone and marry. All this, before thirty. Of course, real life stepped in and slapped her in the face in the form of a boss called Jon Snow who stomped on all over that plan when the truth stared her in the face - she had spent her entire first year of work attending to the whims of a madman. For a sad moment, Sansa would forever cringe to remember, her future looked bleak.

Though, never one to give up so easily, she trudged on, love and happiness aside, towards building her career. Besides, the opportunity for love and marriage rarely reared its head. Sansa could only blame herself for that; it had always been about family, studies and work for Sansa ever since she could remember. She kept consoling herself, how there were better opportunities out there and devoted her time and energy to finding them, staying positive and upbeat no matter what. Mormont & Sons Publishing was one of those bright opportunities, and Sansa was over the moon when she received the email for an interview. 

She just had no idea what was in store for her. But Sansa often reminded herself how this was her ticket in, the launching pad for her future in writing. And every year, meant a step closer to that goal. Sansa learned all she could, observed everyone she met in the industry and played nice. It would be hers to reap one day. And how she vowed to never let it out of her grasp, how she would absolutely do all she can to get to where she wanted. One fine day.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

“I don't think they'll be back so soon, Sans. You know how it is, whenever they go out fishing,” Robb's voice leapt within earshot.

“Huh.. oh, no.. I was just-”

“What.. doing yoga?” Robb teased as he joined her on the bench.

Sansa stuck out her tongue at him. Only Robb knew where to find her, at her favourite spot, a stone bench that had the whole Winterfell lake in view.

“You and Jon.. everything okay? Want to talk about it? ”

“Oh god. Please tell me you didn't hear us,” Sansa groaned, shooting a worried glance at her brother.

“No, I didn't but I did see how fast he got out of the house. With that look of his,” Robb said, as he tried his best to mimic Jon's broody countenance.

“I hate him.”

Robb chuckled. “No you don't. Well.. I mean you guys act a little funny but I wouldn't call it hate.”

“Yeah, right. And you would be the expert,” Sansa scoffed. Trust her big brother to dish out misplaced relationship advice.

“You, my dear sister, could never hate someone. If you do, it's only because on the flip side, you feel very strongly about it. Love and hate, takes a lot of feelings.”

Feelings. Sansa wanted to laugh. What feelings? He doesn't have any.

“Yeah, well, I hate him. He's just… arghhh.”

“Does he know you hate him?”

“Well, now he does.”

“Hmm. Seems one sided to me. I don't think he hates you back, sorry to say.”

All this after just a day of meeting Jon, was impossible to fathom.

“Yeah well.. he made it pretty clear he didn't want me. Or anything to do with me,” Sansa said, quietly.

Robb raised an eyebrow at her. “What? Did he say that?”

“Well not out loud. I just.. got the vibe, I guess. Maybe he thinks I'm gross.”

“Really, Sansa? What are you, twelve? He does not think that way. Come on. Three years with someone, I think it's more than just 'vibes'.”

“What, you and Lisa don't get vibes from each other?”

Robb shrugged. “Define vibes. I can tell exactly what she's thinking just by a look. Which by the way, aren't 'vibes'. That's being in a relationship and knowing your partner.”

Well, Jon doesn't care about that.

“Yeah.. it would take a hundred years for him to even care about how I feel, let alone know just by a single look.. so pardon me, if I don't have my hopes up.”

Robb glanced at her and rested his elbows on his lap. “Maybe you don't see it. Yet.”

“See what? I don't think Jon's that type though.”

“The sensitive type? Maybe. But from the way he looks at you, I don't know but I'd say he's trying at least.”

Sansa frowned at the statement. Maybe it's a guy thing. Solidarity and shit. Or maybe the advice wasn't be so misplaced after all. So, Sansa was willing to listen.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Robb chuckled. For someone claiming to be a romantic, Sansa was clueless as they come.

“He looks at you like how Dad looks at Mom. I've seen it. Every time. And man, I hope that's how I look at Lisa, too. Hard to believe Jon doesn't care. Because, I think he does.. more than he lets on.”

The talk wasn't making any sense. What happened an hour ago was so different from what Robb claimed Jon was capable of, it was hard to believe.

“Look, I've heard a lot about him. Not so nice things and frankly, I was expecting some jerk showing up at our doorstep.. but he isn't one. Surprised me.”

“You clearly don't know him,” Sansa protested.

“True. But I know guys and he's just one of those big softies. With a hard outer shell, you know. Must be tough meeting our family, I get it,” Robb chuckled.

“Well, he didn't have a choice now did he?”

Now that the government is hot on our trail.

“No, but he did have a choice. I mean, he's a big shot editor right? Or something like that, what Dad told me. Why would he be here when he could be busy making it rain back in the city? Schmoozing with the big names and whoever's the It person of the month. But did he? No. He chose you over that, coming here to Northern country. And going fishing with Dad? Props to him. Being nice to Mom, even though we can all see how much she hates his guts? Wow. And for coming to Gramp's birthday too. If he's such an asshole like you claim he is, why make all this effort?”

Fiancé visa. It's all an act. That's why. Sansa wanted to scream, to tell Robb the actual truth. But it would ruin everything. Not to mention, implicating him as well. Best if no one knew at all.

“Listen, you always sit here when you're in a rut. Is it something so bad that you can't fix?” Robb finally asked the right question. Committing a felony. Bad enough?

“I would tell you but.. it's between me and Jon. We'll figure it out.”

Robb placed an arm around her and pulled her in for a hug as he rested his chin on her head. “Of course you will. You're Sansa freaking Stark. You always do.”

Sansa rested her head on her big brother's chest. It was warm and cozy and been a while since she had done so.

“I just wish some things were.. different.”

“We all wish for that, don't we? But this is all we've got and we just have to make the best of it, Sans. And I'm sure Jon will too. Life and lemons sort of thing. He's like this 'run-with-it' kind of guy. Which is all right. Reliable, I give him that. Besides, he doesn't seem the type.”

There it was again. The great Jon puzzle. Robb seemed to know a lot more about Jon that she thought she did.

“The type of what?”

Robb smiled at her, wondering if these two were actually a couple. “The type who doesn't take advantage. You know, so he doesn't screw up a good thing. Not many guys like that. And he'd better be if he's engaged to my sister.”

The thought hadn't crossed her mind. That, instead of thinking how she drove him away, perhaps it really was Jon trying to control himself. For once, the words 'respect' and 'Jon' were in the same sentence, as Sansa considered the alternative.

“Thanks.. Robb.” Sansa sighed as they both sat, looking out onto the lake listening quietly to the waves gently sloshing against the dock.

It was dusk when Sansa heard her brothers and father shuffle through the kitchen with the day's catch but Jon was nowhere to be seen. Avoiding, of course.

Sansa ignored the feeling and went on setting the table. It was going to be a great dinner with everyone she loved and maybe her last together before heading back to the city, the prospect of imprisonment looming heavily over her head. Whatever happens, she was going to enjoy the dinner, with or without Jon. He's on his own now.

“Hey everyone. Hi.. honey,” Sansa heard Jon greet the family and her, as soon as he made his entrance.

In usual Stark fashion, everyone, save for her mother, welcomed him back warmly, especially her father, who was now smiling ear to ear regaling the rest of how Jon helped to reel in a particularly large and stubborn trout and almost falling overboard in the process. Her father even sounded quite impressed by the whole thing. Sansa munched on her green beans quietly as Jon walked over and sat next to her.

“Sansa.. hey. I thought you'd be in your room-”

And what, wait for you? Boy, he's got a lot to learn in this house.

“Nope, was helping with dinner. You know, since it might be my last and all.. if we're going to jail.” mumbled Sansa, aiming her side eye at him with scorn.

Jon sighed and turned to his plate. It alarmed him realising how distressed he was, watching Sansa get visibly upset with him. I thought girls didn't like to pushed into that sort of thing. Jon knew nothing, absolutely zero of the female psyche.

It was unnerving and such a marked difference from the Sansa he was used to. But that was work, he had to remind himself. This.. this is not work. He'd be a fool to dismiss this as 'just work' and nothing else. It was a deal between them, he’d play his part and so would she. And in just one day, in spite of themselves, managed to turn it into something quite complicated.

Jon admitted he wasn't very skilled in the art of courtship and wooing, it had been years since he did any of it. But if it was one thing he knew about women, was that a great grand gesture would easily smoothen any rough patches in a relationship before being tended to carefully. Or so, he thought. At least he hoped that information was still relevant. And if there was still some semblance of a 'relationship' or whatever it was between them left to save. 

Regardless, he'd take the risk. Don't all heroes do, take the risk and save the day because he believes in love. Love, he smiled. What an idea. Then again, if there was anything the weekend was close to showing him, was that, for the longest time since his parents passed, Jon felt something deep inside of him slowly stirring to life, a strange magnetic pull he couldn’t ignore. It was heavy yet light as the warmth began to settle gently on his chest. 

So.. that's how it feels like.

Sansa kept to herself and mostly listened to everyone else's conversations over dinner. There was a lengthy discussion on Gramp's actual birthday party the following day and her family had decided on a list of party games for the guests to play. It was the big eight zero after all.

“Hey Sansa.. can we talk? Later after dinner?”

Sansa leaned back and sighed. If Robb was right, why was Jon taking such a long time to fix whatever it was that broke between them? As much as she wanted to share the faith Robb had in Jon, she just didn't see it. And it frustrated her to no end.

“What's there to talk about? You made it abundantly clear.”

“Well, I still haven't made my point yet but I think I know how. If only you'll let me. Please.”

Sansa was tired of thinking over and over about the 'point' Jon so desperately needed to make. She didn't care anymore and only gave a nonchalant shrug and returned to her plate, deliberately avoiding Jon's gaze.

Right.. okay then. For the first time, he felt invisible. 

“Uhh.. everyone.. I.. I have an announcement to make,” Jon slowly stood up at the table, the family quietening down as they looked on. Sansa's jaw dropped. Shit. He's going to tell everyone. How dare he? Sansa's heart almost stopped a beat. Don't do it!

“As you know.. Sansa and I, we're here to meet the family because, well..we got engaged.”

Oh my god. Jon.. don’t do it please. But Sansa didn’t make a sound.

“And what a lovely weekend it has been and such great pleasure meeting you all.”

Oh. My. God.

“And I know it's such short notice but it wouldn't feel right if I didn't take the time to do this. Especially with her family around. And.. I hope you all don't mind because I have something to say.”

Sansa wanted to scream, mortified at the thought of her family finding out the truth. But the cry froze in her throat - the horror, the embarrassment, the thought of talking to them through a glass screen. No. No, I won't let it! 

Sansa tried to breathe as normally as she could, one half of her was dangling on the edge of a full blown panic attack, while the other was stuck paralysed in a dining chair. She knew the panic attacks would come for her one day. And it did -what timing it was, on the day of her ruin in the hands of her sadist boss, before her own family. She couldn't watch nor listen and shut her eyes as she gave in, her body rigid with fear taking over almost completely. She absolutely refused to go through with it, she was guilty and there was no way she could face the angry and disappointed looks from her family, let alone the lectures. Sorry, Daddy.

That's it. We're done. Jon, you fucker!

But then.. everyone gasped. A giggle and an excited squeal had Sansa slowly opening her eyes. Her breathing was still ragged and Sansa knew she was minutes away from hyperventilating.

“Sansa?”

Sansa turned to a Jon kneeling before her and her entire family, holding up a shiny diamond and sapphire ring.

“Wha.. what?”

“I know you didn't plan for this but.. you deserve this. This is it. We're a team. You and I. I'm not going to let you go down for me, for this mess I’ve put you in. I won't let you.” Jon whispered quietly, his face softening, showing a different Jon than the one she knew.

“Will you...marry me?”

Sansa stared at the ring, in disbelief. Jon fidgeted nervously, seeing how quiet she was. Speechless. And the rapid blinking, worried him a little too. Sansa didn’t look too good as he noticed the beads of sweat rapidly dotting her forehead.

Sansa tried her best. She tried to breathe and calm herself down but nothing seemed to work. There was shouting in her head, alarms were blaring left and right. Is this a joke? Fuck! But there were no alarms - just her heart pounding so hard, Sansa couldn't hear anything else. The stares from her family waiting in silence only made it harder to breathe again. It wasn't supposed to be like this.. I’m going to prison...

Seconds passed like hours as everything around her moved in slow motion. Sansa felt her jaw slacken and her vision began to blur. The only word she could muster - was just one syllable long.

“Huh?”