#sunbeamsandmoonrays

“Oh Sansa, we should go inside Poole’s for a bit and warm up, don’t you think?! Arya!”

Her mother’s panicked look combined with the way Arya’s grabbed her by the arm and is literally towing her in that direction has Sansa digging in her heels and looking around suspiciously.

Oh.

At the town square’s little stage, there’s a couple standing under an archway covered in holly and tinsel, surrounded by family and waving to some well-wishers from the market. The woman is dressed in a gorgeous white coat and she’s got a bouquet in her gloved hands. They’re newlyweds.

It’s a tradition of sorts ‘round town that those married during the market time make an appearance at it. Sansa, who had adored any tradition that involved romance, had done that, too.

Had she looked as happy as that bride? Even now, she recalls the icy chill of foreboding she’d felt when her groom had stood on that stage next to her looking bored and subsequently declared Winterfell’s Christmas market lame. Deep down, she wonders if she’d known even then how it would go.

It would probably be very wrong of her to go up to that bride tonight, shake her by the shoulders and ask if she’s sure she’s not making a terrible mistake, wouldn’t it?

Yes, it would. They look happy. She hopes they are and will be for many years to come.

“It’s fine, Mum. Arya, stop yanking on my arm.”

A creased brow on one face and a stubborn jut of the other’s chin. They mean well but it’s been a bit smothering at times since she’s come home. She’s not made of porcelain.

They separated over a year ago and the divorce has been final for several months. She’s gone on a couple of dates this year. It’s been alright. She doesn’t know what she’s supposed to feel about it now. Were those butterflies in her stomach and stars in her eyes something she’d just imagined when she was younger? Or maybe you outgrow that.

“I’ll pop in at Poole’s in a bit. I think I want some cocoa. Do either of you want me to grab you one?”

Both are astute enough to take the hint that she’s not necessarily inviting them to walk to the booth with her. She needs a little space is all. They shake their heads and say they’ll be in Poole’s when she’s ready to find them.

They head towards the homey general store and she heads the other way but she doesn’t really want hot cocoa. Not enough to wait in a long line anyway. She wants some fresh air.

Fresh air in an open-air market, huh?

She heads to the far side of the square where the town’s fairgrounds lie mostly empty waiting for spring’s festivals, smalltown summer concerts and autumn’s bonfire nights to return.

Away from the hustle and bustle of the market, she finds the big red sleigh lacking its reindeer where a jolly old elf usually poses for pictures with the little ones. Why is it deserted this year?

Looking around and deciding she’s quite alone, she takes a seat and looks up at the sky. There, the stars await her.

Here’s another thing those people down south might not understand in their big city with its bright lights - how magical the night sky looks in places like Winterfell where you can really see them in all their glory.

They shine down from above on this clear night and the pangs from Sansa’s old memories fade. She can lose herself in wonder again. How long have those stars been there really? What all have they seen? How long will they burn after her cares and concerns on this planet have passed along with her? She’s feeling quite philosophical tonight, you see.

And just then, to fully complete the moment, she sees a shooting star. She gasps, clasps her hands together and smiles so wide her frozen cheeks ache. She wishes now that her mother and Arya were here and could see it with her.

But no, this is her star. There it goes! She’ll make a wish on it. What does she wish for? She’ll wish for-

“Are you one of his helpers? I wasn’t sure where they wanted this for…”

The stranger trails off as she turns to glare at him. She was startled by the unexpected voice when she’d thought she was alone and annoyed that her ‘big thoughts’ about the stars have been interrupted.

But her glare dies a quick death, no real reason for it, when she sees a man with an evergreen tree hoisted over one shoulder. He’s just doing his job and, besides, she’s really seeing him now and…wow.

She’s aware that ruggedly handsome is a thing but she’s never seen such a prime example of it. Beard, jeans, boots, leather gloves. Dark eyes, sinful mouth. He smiles at her and she can’t help smiling back. His eyes crinkle up at the corners in the most pleasing way when he smiles. Jingle, jingle, tingle.

“I’m sorry if I-”

“No, no! I’ll move. It’s not my ride,” she quips of the sleigh. She thinks it’s a quip anyway. Maybe that was dumb.

But he chuckles and nods. “I saw you from behind and your cap with the pompon and thought…but you’re not one of the teenagers they usually have helping out here.”

She laughs at the idea. She’d considered volunteering one year when she’d been fifteen but then Rickon would’ve thought she had intel to share about the big guy. “No, I’m no teenager. Not in a good while.”

She’d almost swear he mutters something along the lines of ‘Thank God,’ before his eyes make another quick sweep of her sitting in the sleigh. She suddenly feels warmer than she’d expect considering the weather.

He looks a little flustered about what to say next and she doesn’t want him to feel uncomfortable. “Did you need to set that down?” she asks him of the tree.

“Uh…yeah. I’ve been carrying it up from the woods.” He jerks his chin to the trees beyond the fair grounds. Quite a haul with that good-sized tree. Quite a strapping specimen of manly-

“Would you want to take a break?” she asks next, patting the seat of the sleigh.

It’s roomy. Practically like sharing a park bench with a stranger. They wouldn’t even have to touch. Unless we wanted to.

Leaning the tree against the back of the sleigh, he agrees, wiping his brow with the back of one of those leather gloves. “Yeah, I’d…if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind. I’m Sansa.”

“Pretty name. I’m Jon.”

He climbs in, smelling of fresh pine and making her head spin. They smile at each other a little shyly once he’s seated.

“You’ve got some pine needles on your…”

She gestures and, blushing slightly, he allows her to pluck them off his brow. His eyes don’t leave hers as she carefully removes them one by one, wishing she might discover how soft his hair might feel if she weren’t wearing gloves and if his beard would be pleasantly prickly if she were to rub her palm along it.

“If I’d known we’d be meeting like this, I would’ve got that cocoa after all.”

“Huh?”

Damn, she said that out loud. At least, he’d been too distracted by something else to catch it.

She points at the sleigh and the empty booth where the workers usually take your money for the photos. “Where’s the big guy? There’s usually a queue waiting to see him by now.”

“Running late, I suppose. I’m just supposed to bring them the tree. Were you hoping to get your picture made with him?” His grin is playful, irresistible. Hello, butterflies.

“Not really. I was just admiring the starry night.”

“I like the sound of that more than getting my picture made.”

“There was a shooting star a bit ago actually.”

“There was? Shame I missed it.”

“Yes, a shame.”

But after it passed, you appeared.

They talk and laugh quietly together. There’s nothing quite like hitting it off with someone new. She wonders if those stars in her eyes are shining through yet.

When the real deal shows up with his entourage of helpers, twenty more minutes have passed. Her phone has texts from her sister and a missed call from her mother. Yikes. She hadn’t meant to worry them.

A stand has been brought for the tree and Jon’s helping set it up. He’d said he was going to check out the market next since delivering the tree was his only assignment tonight. She’s going to ask him to get some hot cocoa with her if he’d like.

She opens the last text from Arya- Where the hell are you? Do I need to put out a bulletin?

She quickly pulls off a glove to type her reply- I’m so sorry to worry you both! I’m fine. I’ll come back to the square and find you. I might have someone with me.

She sends the text and then considers the fact it’s Arya she’s sending it to.

He’s nice. There is no need to show off your marital arts expertise at this time.

Her sister is great. She is also very protective and a little extra at times.

Their shoulders bump occasionally as they walk back towards the market, making her equally breathless and gleeful. He keeps smiling like he can’t help himself. She’s the same.

There’s the newlywed couple she spied earlier still holding court at the archway and getting pictures made.

“What do you think of that tradition?”

He gazes at the couple before turning back to face her. “I think it’s great. I wouldn’t want to stand there all night but I like it.”

“Truly?”

“Yeah. Especially if it meant I’d get to kiss my new bride under the stars during the Christmas market. It’d be almost magical, don’t you think?”