Runaway Princess - makenalei - Game of Thrones (TV) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1 Chapter Text

Chapter 1:

March 3^rd

Sansa Stark

White Harbor

Day 1

She ducked her head as she crossed the busy street in the middle of the bustling city. Her baseball cap obscured most of her hair and her sunglasses covered half of her face. The hair dye in the pharmacy bag would further blur her image, she just had to get to her hotel to apply it.

Her hotel was nothing like the ones she used to stay in. It wasn’t a dive, but it wasn’t five stars either. It was a chain that allowed cash deposits instead of a credit card, and they didn’t bother her in her room. She smiled at the receptionist as she went towards the computer in the corner. She had emailed a woman in the Reach about a job when she was at a computer café earlier in the day. She wanted to see if the woman had written back. She signed into her fake email account, hope rising as she noticed that she had a single message.

“Dear Alayne,

I was so happy to receive your email. You sound like just the sort of employee I am looking for, especially the starting immediately part. I understand you are from the Vale, so if you are able to get here in two days, I would like you to start then. Please let me know if this works for you.

Looking forward to meeting you,

Rose’

She grinned at the email, feeling a sort of accomplishment she had never felt before. She had gotten a job all on her own, her parents and position not playing a factor in it at all. She signed out of her email after writing back that she would be there in two days, and the took the stairs to her room. She had to get moving if she wanted to get to the Reach in two days.

Once she was there, she stripped out of her yoga pants and baggy sweatshirt. Arya had given them to her. She didn’t own such pieces.

The box said to mix the two packets labeled 1 and 2. She did as it said and waited a few minutes while she brushed out her hair. It hung to her bottom, copper red and shining. It was once her favorite thing about herself. She took such pride in it. She took a breath as she put it in a low ponytail and then cut it just under the elastic before she could chicken out. She pulled out the elastic, looking at the shorn locks. They reached just under her chin. She took another deep breath as she donned the gloves that came with the dye, and squirted it into her hair. There was no going back now.

An hour later, she brushed out the darker locks. Her hair was now a mousey brown color, flat and plain. She took out her contact lenses and slipped on the thick framed lenses she had bought at the pharmacy as well. She looked like one of Arya’s friends, a bit grunge meets nerd.

She had paid for the night, but she had to keep moving. She left the keys on the table before picking up her backpack. Everything she brought with her fit in the single backpack. She pulled the knit cap down over her forehead and slipped out of her room. She took the back stairs out of the place.

She got on the bus outside of the hotel. A few days ago, she had never been on a bus before. She found a seat in the back and kept her head down. It took several stops for the bus to reach the terminal station. It was the largest in the North. She went to the ticket counter.

“Hi, I need to get to Highgarden,” She told the woman, passing her ID card over. Arya had procured it for her. It wasn’t her picture, but it looked eerily similar to her now that her hair was dark and she was wearing the glasses. Arya didn’t say how she found it, only told her to try to match the hair and find glasses.

“A one-way ticket to the Reach” The woman echoed, “Let’s see what we can do, Ms. Stone” She murmured, tapping away on her computer. She hummed as she did it, fingers moving impossibly fast, “Okay, so I have a seat available on the Northern regional train leaving in twenty minutes for Moat Cailin, which will connect you to the King’s Way line, which will take you to the Capital City, from there you can get on the Rose Way line to Highgarden,” The woman told her.

“Perfect” She would figure out to get to her location in the Reach after she got to Highgarden.

“Okay, so all together, the three tickets come to,” The woman clicked away on her computer, calculating the cost, “142.50, are you a student or veteran? We do discounts for those,” She told her.

“No, 142.50 is fine,” She told her, plucking out a few bills from her wallet. Luckily the North, the last of the kingdoms to do so, had switched to the same currency as the rest of the realm a year ago. She wouldn’t need to convert any of her cash to a different currency.

“Okay, out of 150” The woman put her cash in the drawer and pulled out change, passing her the coin and bills, “And the tickets. Thank you for traveling with us and have a nice trip,” She told her as she passed her the tickets.

“Thank you,” She told the woman before hurrying to terminal D to catch her train to Moat Cailin. It was already boarding. If she missed it, she would have to wait another hour, and would definitely miss her other trains.

She tucked into a window seat and plugged in her headphones, blasting the soothing tones of the Northern opera. About ten minutes later, the train pulled out of the station.

It took thirty minutes to reach Moat Cailin, and from there she had to run to catch her connecting train to the Capital City. This train would be busier then the last. A lot of people did business in the Capital City, but lucky for her, she was leaving early in the day and Moat Cailin was the first stop, so she got a good seat in the back near a window. An older gentleman sat next to her after they stopped at the tri-kingdom border. His accent was clearly from the Vale. He wouldn’t stop talking on his cell for the entire trip.

They gathered more people at the Trident, and then stopped again at Harrenhal. At the border of the Crownland’s they stopped and sat there for a good twenty minutes due to a delay at the terminal in the city. All and all, it took about four hours to reach the Capital City when it should have taken three. By the time she disembarked from the train, she was hungry and desperately needed to use the restroom. Her ticket for Highgarden said she left in an hour, so she got a quick lunch at the station before meandering about. She hadn’t been to the Capital city in ages.

Her train to Highgarden was delayed by 45 minutes, so by the time she got on it, it was the middle of the rush hour. It was crowded and she ended up in one of the jump seats next to the Conductor, who explained to her how to get from Highgarden to her final destination. She would have to take the regional Reach train instead of the Rose’s Way line.

It took an hour and a half to get to Highgarden, and then she had to wait twenty minutes for her regional line train heading north to arrive. It was packed with commuters, but she wiggled her way in.

Her stop was one of the last on the line, so by the time they reached the Old Oak’s station, the train was near empty. She got off and went to the service desk at the terminal to ask about lodging. Rosie, as the woman had asked to be called in her final email, had told her that one of the hotels did a discounted weekly rate during the off season. She had called them to book a room while she was waiting for her train in the Capital City. She just needed directions now.

The woman working was friendly and explained that she just had to walk down the main road until she hit the boardwalk. It would take about twenty minutes.

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March 4^th

The weather in the Reach was perfect. It was warm without being oppressive, and sunny without being too bright. The air was crisp and smelt of flowers with every breeze. The landscapes were green and lush, nothing like the frozen tundra of the North.

Her phone’s shrill screech broke the tranquil illusion of the Reach, startling her back into reality.

“Hello?” She answered, not recognizing the number. When she had left for her impromptu getaway, she left her cell phone in a trash barrel outside of Cerwyn. She had bought a “burn” phone as her sister called it in White Harbor.

“It’s me,” Her sister, Arya, greeted quietly, “Are you out of the North?” She questioned.

“Yes” She replied. She had texted Arya earlier to call her when she had a chance.

“Good” She replied, “And are you where we discussed?” Arya questioned. Her sister had been instrumental in picking her new location.

“I went South” She told her, “It’s beautiful, all the old oaks, apples trees,” She spoke in code, but she was pretty sure Arya would understand what she was saying. It wasn’t that coded after all. She doubted anyone would be listening yet. She probably wasn’t even really missed yet.

“Enjoy it, sister” Arya told her quietly, “This will all blow over soon, and then you can come home,”

“I hope so” She replied, “I’ll be in touch,”

“Stay safe, Alayne”

“You too, little wolf,”

She hung up and turned the phone off. If it ever was traced back to her, she didn’t want them finding it. She stood and leaned over her balcony, looking around. It was early, no one was awake yet. She took a breath and tossed the cell phone in the waves that crashed beneath her. Her room had a spectacular view of the beach, and during high tide, the waves nearly hit the hotel.

The ocean swallowed the cell phone easily, pulling it out to sea.

She went back to her room, shutting the sliding door tightly behind her. She changed out of her pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Casual flats replaced her usual pumps. She wore her hair down, the darker strands still unnatural to her.

“You are Alayne Stone,” She told her warped reflection, “Alayne Elizabeth Stone, daughter of Petyr and Catelyn Stone. You lived in the Vale your entire life. You came to the Reach to get away from your overbearing parents” She recited the story that Arya had drawn up for her.

She grabbed her purse and her keys for the room before she left. She grabbed a muffin from the kind owner of the inn on her way out. She was destined for the coffee shop down the street, where she would be working now.

A job, it was a strange concept. Menial labor for such a small pittance, it was terrifying and exciting at the same time. She was nervous though. She had spoken to her Rosie once or twice on the phone, but she was meeting her today for the first time.

“Kingdom’s Café” The sign read in swirling script. She pulled open the door causing bells to twinkle above her head. An older woman popped her head out from the back, grinning at her.

“You must be Alayne” She crooned in a thick Reach accent. She came bustling out of the kitchen, wiping flour on her apron as she did so. Without further ado, the woman wrapped her arms around her in a hug.

She went stiff. She wasn’t used to spontaneous hugs, it wasn’t allowed. Only family was allowed to hug her. But she wasn’t her anymore, she was just Alayne.

“It is so nice to meet you, ma’am” She told her, awkwardly returning the hug a second later.

“Oh, the pleasure is mine, dearie” The woman told her, “Come, come, we can acquaint ourselves later. I have to get you an apron and a crash course on this job, love”

It appeared that the girl was she supposed to be replacing had gone into early labor late last night, and thus, wouldn’t be there to train her this morning. As a result, she was getting a very quick explanation of how things worked.

“I hope you are a quick learner, my dear” The woman told her before she launched into a lengthy description of their eight different coffees. They had one from each kingdom. They were already brewed, so she didn’t have to worry about that at least. She just had to prepare the coffees and ring everything up.

Simple enough, or so she thought.

The morning rush hit and she ran around like a headless chicken, filling cups on cups on cups with steaming hot coffee, adding sugar and milk and cream. She plated pastries and croissants, heated breakfast sandwiches and bagels. For four whole hours it was nonstop.

But it did stop.

Around 11 it died down and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“We’ve got about an hour until the lunch rush,” The woman told her, patting her back gently, “But you did well, dear. I’m impressed”

“Thank you,” She had no idea how she had managed that. She was proficient in math and technology, so the till hadn’t been a problem. There was a button for everything and anything they ordered. She saw the pattern now that she was in the café, understood why it was called “Kingdom’s”. Along with the eight different coffees, there were eight different pastries, each in the shape of a Kingdom’s sigil. It was an interesting lure.

She tried the Dornish brew on Rosie’s recommendation. It was a dark roast with hints of Dornish spices, including lemon. It was interesting. It probably wasn’t going to be her favorite, but it was worth the taste. She would have to try the others later.

As she sipped her coffee, she was taught how to brew it herself. She was shown the coffee grinder, the filters, the water, etc. It didn’t seem that difficult. She had a home brewer, after all. The hardest part would be lugging the giant cases back and forth.

The lunch rush hit next. It wasn’t as crazy as the morning rush, but it was steady. They sold out of most of the pastries, and she would have to refill the coffee pots again, but she would have time.

“I’m going to bake some more pastries for tomorrow. I’ll leave these ones up front with you so you can frost them” She pointed to squirt bottles filled with various levels of frosting in the cooler. She had seen the frosting earlier, but the woman gave her a guide to help.

Yellow and black stags for the Stormland Kingdom, check.

Yellow and gold flowers for the Kingdom of the Reach, check.

Navy and maroon fish for the Riverlands, check.

Orange and gold suns for Dorne, check.

Gold and maroon lions for the Western Kingdom, check.

Blue and silver mountains for the Vale, check.

Black and red dragons for the Crownland Kingdom, check.

Grey wolves for the North, check.

She would be lying if she said she didn’t take extra care to make sure the wolves looked the best. They did though, they looked strong and fierce compared to the flowers and suns and fish of the other regions, save for the dragons.

She heard the bell ring and looked up to greet the customer.

“Hello, welcome to Kingdom’s” She told the curly haired man standing in the threshold. He had a laptop case slung over one shoulder and a beanie covered his messy curls. He had glasses like hers, and he seemed to be from out of town.

“Hello” She couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like he had a faint Crownlands accent. She had taken great care to hide her northern one, not wanting to give anything away. Northern accents were usually found exclusively in the North, no one ever left to live in another kingdom.

“What can I get you?” She questioned cheerfully even though at this point she was pretty sure it sounded fake.

“A medium north brew, black please” He told her as he fished out his wallet, “First day?” He questioned as he passed her a few bills.

“Yes” She nodded, smiling faintly as she felt her cheeks flush, “Is it that obvious?”

“Oh no, no” He shook his head quickly, grey eyes apologetic, as he struggled to explain himself, “I’ve just never seen you here before, and Rosie said she was hiring someone to replace Della,”

“Oh,” She breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she was doing okay at this job. She gave him his change, smiling in thanks when he put it in the tip jar. She set about making his coffee, “Are you one of those come in everyday order the same thing regulars Rosie was telling me about?” She asked in a light tone, joking.

Earlier during the rush some of the customers had gotten upset that they had to actually tell her their order instead of her magically knowing it. Rosie told her they were repeat regulars, same order everyday, same time. She told her that she would eventually learn them whether she wanted to or not.

“I guess I am” The man shrugged, “I don’t really have a set drink, I usually just have whatever Della is brewing at the time, but I suppose the Northern brew is my favorite”

“No frills,” She told him, referring to the dark roast that represented the North, “Just like the North” She passed him his coffee. It wasn’t the most popular of the brews, but those that did order it got it black.

“Exactly” He agreed, “Though the Vale blend is pretty good too,”

‘I haven’t tried it yet,” She admitted to him. She had tried the Dornish brew, which was okay. The others didn’t seem as interesting to her though.

“Ah, Jon, there you are” Rosie came bustling out of the kitchen, a wide smile on her face, “I was wondering when you would come in today. I see you met our new barista, Alayne”

“I have” Jon, as she now knew his name, nodded, “And she’s seems like a great fit here, Rosie” She felt her cheeks flush once again at his compliment. He was a good-looking guy, not her usual type, but that was a good thing. He had dark hair where she usually preferred blondes, and his eyes were a greyish color where she usually swooned at the baby blues. Her usual type usually ended up being assholes though, and Jon seemed genuinely nice.

“Thank you” She told him sincerely, appreciating the words.

“Just the truth” He told her with a shrug, seemingly embarrassed by it, “I best be off, Rosie. I’ll see you tomorrow. It was nice meeting you, Alayne”

“You as well” She replied, watching as he left the little shop. Her eyes followed him up the road, towards the coast.

“Jon is such a sweetheart” Rosie told her a second later as she leaned against the counter, “He comes in every day around lunch for his coffee. Usually stays and does work, but I think you made him nervous,”

“Nervous?” She questioned sharply.

“Not a bad thing, dear. I think he likes you, and he’s single,” She added, winking at her.

“He seems like a nice man” She told Rosie, laughing as the older woman waggled her brows. The last thing she needed was a date on her first day of freedom.

“I think that you two would make a beautiful couple,” Rosie told her, “Do you have a boyfriend, dear?”

“No, ma’am” She answered promptly.

“Ah, I know that look. Scorned in love, it is a woman’s plight, dearie. The best way to get over a broken heart is to find someone better to shove in that arse hole’s face, trust me, it worked wonders for me,” She chuckled softly as Rosie advised her.

If only she knew the truth of the “scorn”.

She was never good at discerning who liked her for who she was or who liked her for her title. That was one of the perks of being Alayne Stone; she had no title, no land, and no wealth. She had herself, nothing else.

Maybe she would see what happened with Jon. Maybe he did like her.

Chapter 2 Chapter Text

Alayne Stone

Old Oaks, The Reach

March 19^th

Two weeks of work and she had never felt more accomplished. Her hands were calloused and her feet hurt from being on them all day, but she had gotten her first honest to god paycheck. It was a small sum, compared to the life she had lived, but it paid for her room at the inn and for her weekly groceries. Not to mention the fact that she had worked for it. It was thrilling.

“Good day?” Jon questioned as he entered the café, laptop bag over his shoulder. He plopped it down on a table today. From the second day she started, he had become a constant fixture at the café around this time. He would come in with his laptop, get a cup of coffee and a pastry, and then talk to her while he skimmed whatever it was he was doing on his laptop. Sometimes he typed as if he were writing something. Sometimes he showed her funny videos of cats.

“First paycheck ever,” She told him with a wide grin. He gave her a weird look and she realized she must look like a loon. What twenty something year old hadn’t gotten a paycheck before? “My parent’s were very strict. I wasn’t allowed to work while I was in university, they wanted me to focus on my studies,” She told him quickly, hoping that it was a sufficient lie.

“Oh, I understand strict parents” He told her, “Where did you go to university?”

“Just a local college,” She answered vaguely, “Finance, with a minor in public service” That wasn’t a lie. She had gotten her degrees from Northern University though, the best in her kingdom.

“English literature,” Jon told her with a smile, “Though I minored in Valyrian”

“Why a dead language?” She questioned, polishing the same bit of counter that she had been working on for ages already. It was strange to hear of someone minoring in the ancient tongue, but not unheard of. Most of those that did were from the Crownlands, where the Targaryen rulers still held court in High Valyrian.

“My parent’s were hoping I would go into politics” He told her with another shrug, “They thought that it would help, but I can’t say I use it much,” The last part was said in Valyrian, which she knew of course, but she played dumb, scrunching up her face and acting confused. He translated it for her a second later.

“It sounded impressive,” She told him. It did really. He had a perfect accent for it. She knew her own Valyrian was rusty compared to his, “Can you speak any other languages?”

“A bit of the Old Northern Tongue” He told her with a shrug, “But I use it even less then the Valyrian” She was fluent in the Old Tongue, “How about you? What else do they speak in the Vale?”

“I know a bit of Braavosi,” She told him. Arya had taught it to her after her year abroad in the eastern continent, “And a small amount of one of the Mountain Clad tongues. I forget what they even call it. Stay away or pay,” She told him, mangling the Mountain tongue. She told him what it meant. He grimaced.

“They’re native to that land, correct?”

“Yes” She nodded, “They quarrel with the Arryn Royal family all the time, sometimes they pillage the smaller towns for cattle and farm animals,” She only knew the specifics because her father and King Jon Arryn were good friends. That was the only reason she had ever even visited the Vale.

“I remember that from my history classes” Jon told her.

“Enough about the Vale, it’s all mountains and boring” She told him, running out of things to say about the place she had visited only once though had told everyone she had lived there her entire life, “Tell me about the Crownlands. Have you been to the capital city? To the runes of Summerhall?” She questioned, truly interested.

The eight kingdoms that made up their continent used to be one Kingdom called Westeros. A civil uprising and rebellion a few centuries ago had dissolved the single kingdom into seven different kingdoms, with Dorne having always been independent of them, with their own royal family and hierarchy. The capital and the Crownlands housed the remains of the original ruling family, the Targaryen’s, who had first conquered the individual kingdoms several centuries before that. The Capital City, known as King’s Landing, was the seat of not only the Targaryen family, but of the United Kingdoms, an eight-member council that worked on peace for the eight kingdoms. Each kingdom had an elected councilperson, usually a younger son or cousin of that ruling family.

She had been once, with her father. Her uncle, Benjen, was the councilperson for the North. She remembered only the huge glass table and the flags of the different royal families.

“My family is actually from the Capital City,” Jon told her, “It isn’t as grand as they make it out to be. It’s filthy, and over populated,” He shrugged, “And the runes are interesting enough the first time, but they lose their magic after the sixth time,”

“Six times?” She questioned in surprise, “Why would you continue to go?”

“Field trips each year, mandatory in the Crownlands. It serves as a reminder as to what was lost” Summerhall was the ancient seat of the Targaryen Dynasty. It was burnt to the ground in the rebellion, killing the king and his heir. Her own ancestors had played a part in the burning.

“That’s pretty deep for elementary school,” She told him, though they did the same thing in the North. All students were brought to the Wall at least once to commemorate the War they had fought against the rebels there.

“Eh, at least we got to miss school for it” Jon told her.

“Have you ever been to the United Kingdoms building?” She questioned. She knew they gave public tours.

“Once” He told her, “Field trip again. It was actually pretty cool to see all the different flags and sigils. There was a meeting in chambers though, so we didn’t get to see the glass table,” He shrugged, “Have you been?”

“Once, with my father as a special trip” She told him the truth, “I don’t remember much, I was quite young. I always loved reading about the history of the kingdoms though, I’d love to go back some day,”

“Have you been to Highgarden yet?” Jon questioned. Highgarden was the home of the Tyrell’s, the ruling family of the Reach. She had never been in her life. The North and the Reach had never had any issues in the past. They were neither friends nor enemies.

“I have not, no,” She shook her head, “I hear the gardens are breathtaking though,”

“Perhaps you’d like to go then, with me” Jon stuttered a bit. She felt her cheeks turn pink. He was asking her out.

“I’d love to” She found herself replying without thinking about it.

“Great” Jon grinned, wiping away the last of her fears. He had such a carefree grin, crooked and adorable in all the right ways. It was nothing like the plastic grin Joff slapped on when he was forced to, “When’s your next day off?”

“Tomorrow” Rosie appeared from the kitchen silently, startling them both. She had to have been eavesdropping on them. She wasn’t supposed to have the day off tomorrow. She quirked her brow at the older woman, “My niece is coming back from school for the holiday weekend. She’ll help out, you can take the weekend off,”

“Thank you, Rosie” She told the older woman sincerely. She didn’t want to seem too eager, but she was. She had been chatting with Jon for the past week and the more she spoke with him, the more she grew to like him. She actually had a bit of a crush on him.

“Tomorrow it is, then” Jon told her, finishing the last of his coffee and standing up, “I’ll meet you at the rail station at 9?” He suggested.

“I’ll be there,” She told him, smiling as he waved and left the building. She turned to Rosie with a wide grin on her face.

“I knew it” The older woman told her, “He fancies you, dearie”

“Do you think so?” She questioned, fluffing her dark brown hair. She was self conscious of it, missing her old vibrant hue, “He could just want a friend. He doesn’t have many here,”

“No” Rosie shook her head, reaching out and grabbing her hand, “Not a friendship, my dear. It’s a date, and as such, I think I’ll let you leave a bit early today. You best head to a shop and get something pretty to wear for tomorrow. It’ll be warm and sunny for a change,”

They had been hit with a rainy patch for the past few days, flooding the area and blowing things around with the strong winds. It had been a pain to walk to work most mornings. She was always slightly damp.

“Thank you, Rosie” She leaned forward and pecked the woman’s wrinkled cheek, gestures of affection coming more easily the more time she spent in Rosie’s cheerful company. Rosie smiled and patted her head.

“No thanks are needed. Now run along, dearie” She told her. She grabbed her bag and jacket, clocked out, and left the café with a wide smile. She walked to the inn to drop off her things, and then went to the bank to deposit her check.

Getting a bank account in the little seaside town was surprisingly easy. She just presented her fake ID, and was given an account. It was almost too simple.

After going to the bank, she went to the grocers to get a few things to tide her over, and then to the little boutique on the corner. When she found what she was looking for, she went back to her room to get ready for her date tomorrow.

As the sun was setting, she got a call on her new cell phone. She had texted her sister yesterday from the number so that she could call at her leisure. She knew Arya was busy in the North.

“Hello?” She questioned, answering the device.

“Hey, it’s me,” Arya answered, “Do you have time to talk?”

“I’m in my room, hang on” She told her sister, closing her balcony door and going to the bathroom. She turned on the faucet and showerhead, just encase her neighbors could hear her, “Okay, what’s going on?”

“Nothing much” Arya replied, “They found your letter. Mother’s keeping your disappearance quiet, father’s worried, and the little ones don’t know what to make of it. Robb is cursing you to the seven hells though, the lions are suggesting a match between he and the little princess,”

“She’s not even sixteen yet,” She protested, “Are they terribly mad?”

“I don’t think it’s settled in fully yet. Cersei is demanding that father find you and drag you back, then end the engagement. Joffrey is strangely quiet and Robert is drunk,”

“Well at least I haven’t inconvenienced King Robert,” She muttered. Arya laughed on the other side.

“Nothing a tall glass of wine and a few shots of whiskey can’t cure,” Arya agreed, “Enough about them though. I want to here about you. How are you? Do you like it where you are?”

“I love it,” She told her honestly, “I work an actual job. I make actual money to stay where I live, to eat the food I consume. It is so strange and exhilarating,” She told her, smiling as she remembered her check.

“Then I’m glad, sister. You deserve it,” Arya replied, “I should go. Get a new phone, call me when you can,” She got a new phone every few days. This would be her third phone. It was a needed precaution. Even though her parents were keeping her disappearance under wraps, there would still be people looking for her, people clued in to the situation at hand.

“I love you,” She told her sister, “Goodnight”

“Goodnight, Alayne, I love you too” Arya replied. The phone disconnected with a click. She powered the cell down and took out the battery, and then the SIM card. The tiny little SID card she flushed for the toilet. The rest of the phone went into the trash bin, where she could incinerate it tomorrow.

She turned off the water in the bathroom, and stepped back into her room. It was warm and peaceful. She slipped into her bed and got cozy. Tomorrow was a new day; one she was determined to enjoy. She fell asleep only to dream about the fields of flowers that awaited her the next morning.

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When she woke up the sun was shining through the cracks in her curtains. She stood and stretched, checking the time. She had an hour to get ready.

She brushed her teeth and her hair. It stopped just at her shoulders in little reddish brown waves. The dye had started to fade a bit after a few washes, making the dull, flat tone look a bit better. She let it hang that way, not bothering with any clips or elastics. She loved wearing her hair down, but it was never considered proper back home. Clips and pins were always digging into her scalp.

She slipped into the sundress that she had bought yesterday. It was a pretty white eyelet dress that cinched at the waist and flowed freely to her knees. It covered the scars on her back that she was always so desperate to hide. She paired it with a pair of simple leather flip-flops. It was the most casual “date” attire she had ever worn. She applied some mascara and blush, but nothing heavy. A spritz of her lemon rose perfume and she was good to go.

She grabbed her purse and her room key, and left the inn, heading towards Kingdom’s. She would get something to eat and some coffee to go for her and Jon.

Rosie greeted her with a huge grin.

“Alayne, love, you look so beautiful” Rosie crooned, coming from behind the counter to look her over properly, “Spin around, dear” She told her. She spun, letting the dress lift around her as she did so. She laughed as Rosie clapped.

“Thank you, Rosie,” She told the older woman kindly, “It’s casual enough, isn’t it?” She questioned, doubting her capability to pick appropriate attire. She could dress for an inter kingdom brunch between two kings that were quarreling, but a casual date stumped her.

“It’s perfect, dear” Rosie assured her, “Now, what can I get you? It’s getting late,” She checked the clock on the wall and realized indeed it was. She had only ten minutes to get her stuff and walk to the station.

“Two northern brews, black, and two lemon pastries,” The lemon pastries were her favorite. They had always been her favorite, even back in the North. They were imported from Dorne, as it was the only kingdom that grew lemons naturally. Rosie made the coffees herself, but she could hear her niece in the back, probably making more pastries.

When she refused to accept payment for the order, she ended up putting it all in the tip jar, waving Rosie off with a laugh as she scurried from the building, coffees precariously gripped in her hands.

She got to the station with four minutes to spare, scanning the sparse crowd for Jon’s familiar head of dark curls.

She didn’t see him though.

“Hey” His voice from behind her startled her, and the coffees nearly met the ground. Jon grabbed them at the last second though, chuckling as she gaped at him for doing that, “Sorry about that” He apologized scratching his neck as he looked at her with slightly amused eyes. She relented and laughed lightly.

“It’s alright” She told him, passing him a cup of coffee, “It wasn’t on purpose, was it?”

“And risk the loss of this delicious cup of coffee?” He questioned, inhaling the cloying aroma of the brew, “Never”

“Good” she grinned, taking a sip of her own coffee. It had to have been freshly brewed.

“Thanks for getting these, I didn’t even think of it. I can’t get through a day without a cup of Rosie’s”

“Me neither. It’s addicting” She replied. She had never been much of a coffee drinker in the North, preferring the southern teas her mother favored, but she had grown dependent on the strong Northern brew in the past few days.

“You look lovely by the way,” He told her a bit awkwardly. She felt her cheeks flush nonetheless and smiled demurely.

“Thank you” She replied, looking him over. He wore dark jeans and a rolled up flannel shirt over a t-shirt. His curls were covered with a beanie again. It was a little grunge, nothing like Joff would have ever worn, “So do you,” She added. She smiled as the tips of his ears went pink.

“I got the tickets” He told her, pulling out the tickets from his pocket, “We should probably get onto the platform before it arrives”

“Thank you,” She told him as he passed her the ticket. He shrugged and gestured for her to walk ahead of him. She could feel the heat of his hand as it hovered around her lower back, not quite touching her, but almost. It was gentleman like of him.

There weren’t many people waiting for the rail at this time. Those that traveled away from the coast for work were long gone and it wasn’t quite the weekend, so there were no pleasure seekers.

The train arrived on the dot of 9. Jon ushered her into the compartment, finding empty seats in the middle of the car. It would take about 45 minutes to get to Highgarden from Old Oaks. She passed him one of the pastries she had bought as she took out her own.

They chatted the entire ride, getting to know each other. She tried to keep as much as she could truthful, but she had to lie a few times, like about the names of her siblings and the town she grew up in.

She learned that Jon grew up in the capital city. His favorite color was black, for no particular reason. He liked to jog in the mornings and played baseball occasionally. He had served a tour in the military before being discharged honorably but didn’t like to talk about it. He liked to read, mostly non fiction.

By the time they reached Highgarden, she was already besotted. His deep, hoarse laughter, and the way his grey eyes lit up when he spoke about his home enthralled her. She loved the way his dark curls fell from his beanie, and the way he smiled crookedly, exposing perfectly straight white teeth. He was the exact opposite of Joff, and she loved it.

“This is us,” Jon told her, offering her his hand. She took it, allowing him to pull her up from her seat. To her surprise, and delight, he didn’t let got as they left the train. They tossed their empty coffee cups in the trash and turned to admire the outlying town of Highgarden.

“Wow” She breathed, looking at the lush greenery. It was so bright and cheery looking, like something out of a set design.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Jon commented, leading her out of the station and into the town proper. There were dozens of carts of fresh fruits, vegetables, and flowers littering the old style cobble roads. Laughter and chatter rang out as the workday went on around them. Everything was so fresh and alive.

“It is,” She agreed as she watched a woman make a bouquet of golden roses. They were special in the reach, the sign of royalty. She had always wanted them as a child, “How do they get that golden color?” She questioned aloud as they walked down the street.

“No idea” Jon told her, shrugging, “There is a tale of magic, though”

“My nan used to tell us that,” She told him, smiling as she recalled Old Nan. The woman had passed away at the age of 105 last spring, “Tales of golden seeds and magic soil,”

“My mother used to tell me a similar story” Jon replied casually, “Look,” He nudged her shoulder, pointing towards the castle that lay in the valley before them. It was a beautiful white castle, tiered and shining in the morning sun. It was smaller then Winterfell, but brighter somehow. It was the type of castle that they spoke of in fairytales, the kind that she had dreamed of inhabiting when she was a child.

“It’s like a fairytale,” She whispered, looking towards the large gates that were guarded by guards on big white steeds. To the left of them was where the garden tours were held. There was already a crowd milling around the gates, waiting for it to begin.

“Come on,” Jon pulled her gently towards the crowd, joining them. She could hear all different accents, chatting excitedly about the gardens. Most had cameras around their necks, hats on their heads, and purses around their waists. It was amusing.

“We should have worn our tourist gear” She whispered as a particularly fat, presumably a Riverman, stood in front of them, his camera at his face as he snapped picture after picture of the poor guards.

“Next time” Jon told her as he laughed. She smiled just thinking about “next time”.

The gates opened then and they were split into two groups. They were in the later group, so they milled around the entrance a bit longer, admiring the horses and speaking about horseback riding and such. Jon knew how to ride, as did she.

“Maybe we can go riding someday,” Jon suggested as she patted the large white stallion. The tour guide had said that they were allowed to do so, “There’s a farm on the coast, I’ve seen it on my jog,”

“I’d love that” She replied, “I haven’t ridden in years though, I’ll probably make a fool of myself”

“I doubt it” Jon told her, “Horseback riding is like riding a bicycle”

“I can’t ride a bicycle,” She told him quietly, laughing at his shocked face. There was no need for bikes in the North, it was never clear of snow to ride anywhere on them. They were impractical, so she had never really put a priority on learning.

“Bike riding first then” Jon told her seriously, as if he were personally offended that she couldn’t ride, “Then horseback riding. Can you believe that mate, she can’t ride a bike?” Jon asked the guard, who was standing silently a few feet from them, “They can’t speak, only nod or shake their heads” Jon explained as the guard remained silent, “My brother and I used to try for hours to get them to speak when we came here on vacation years past”

“Did they?”

“No, never” He shook his head, “This lot are loyal, I’ll give them that”

The tour began then, and they left the horses and silent guard. Guards in the north were not required to stay silent. They were given leave to speak freely, within reason, which wasn’t always a good thing. Her father and his captain of the guard, Jory Cassel, would get into arguments all the time. It was good-natured as they had been friends since childhood, but it always added extra time to their plans.

The tour began with the red and pink roses. They were gorgeous, so vibrant and full. Blooms like these were rarely found in the glass gardens of the North. From there they walked to the tulips and lilies, then to the sunflowers and daisies. Everything was alive and blooming.

“Look over there” Jon pointed towards the castle, which they were quite close to. There was a balcony, where a few people were standing, chatting in the warm sun.

“Who are they?” She questioned softly. She knew the names of the royal family, but she had only met them once as a young girl, save for Loras Tyrell, who was a good friend of Joffrey’s uncle. She scarcely remembered the one her own age, Princess Margaery, or Maggie as she was called then.

“No idea” Jon told her, “They could be royals though” A man next to them heard that and everyone started snapping pictures of the people on the balcony. After a few seconds, as they realized they were being watched, the people went inside.

“Poor things” She murmured as the tour continued, people excitingly chatting about the pictures of the royals they had taken.

“I agree’ Jon told her, “It’s not quite fair, is it?”

“No” She shook her head, “They’re just people in the end,”

“That they are” Jon murmured. At this point, they reached the centerpiece of the garden, the United Kingdom’s garden, homage to their allies in this time of peace, the garden featured flora native to each Kingdom.

Dorne had big orange blooms that were yellow on the inside. They were called sunspears, if she remembered correctly. The Riverlands had little white flowers that grew on the shores of the copious rivers. They were called river rings, for their circular shape. The Westerlands had dark red flowers that grew along the coast. Joff had given them to her on many occasions. She hated them. They smelt metallic. The Stormlands had scruffy sea flowers that were white and long. They were called water flowers. The Vale had little blue flowers that they called blue buttons. The Crownlands had dragon lilies, which were purple. The North had winter roses, which were blue and her favorite. In the center of the display were the famous golden roses of the Reach.

Most of the others on the tour flocked to the golden roses, eager to examine them up close. She went to the winter roses, which were next to the blue buttons of the Vale. Jon went with her.

“Do you miss the Vale?” He questioned as she stared longingly at the Northern roses, which were quite close to the blue buttons of the Vale.

“Yes” She answered, pretending he had asked if she missed the North, “Do you ever miss the Crownlands?”

“Everyday” He replied, “But sometimes you have to make your own path in life, right? You have to get away from it all to see what matters”

“That’s quite deep” She told him, smiling as the tour moved forward, forcing them to abandon the blue flowers, “How long has it been since you last went home?”

“A few months ago I saw my brother,” Jon replied with a shrug, “I keep in contact with those that matter while I’m away, my Aunt and brother mainly. My father doesn’t want to hear from me frankly. How about you? Have you spoken to anyone yet?” She had told him that she had basically run away without telling anyone where she was going, looking to forge her own way in life without overbearing parents and strict guidelines on how to live. He was sympathetic to her plight.

“I speak to my sister every few days. She’s the only one that knows where I am” She admitted, “My mother is in denial and my father is worried about me, or so my sister says. My elder brother is mad that I left, and the little ones aren’t really old enough to understand any of it. I just, I feel guilty but I don’t. Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense” Jon told her, gripping her hand within his gently.

The tour was surprisingly long. After the gardens, they went to the fields, where there were rows upon rows of growing fruit and veggies. Highgarden’s estate was huge compared to Winterfell, even if the castle was smaller. From the fields they went to the actual castle, where they toured a few rooms that were open to the public. It was nothing particularly spectacular. The halls of Casterly Rock, which was easily the most opulent castle in the realm, made Highgarden seem rather plain. It lacked history as well, which Winterfell had in heaps.

Three hours later, they walked through the public gardens outside of Highgarden, enjoying the afternoon sun. To her utter delight, Jon held her hand loosely in his own calloused one the entire time. As it grew later in the afternoon, they searched for a place to have lunch before boarding their train back to Old Oaks.

They ended up at the least busy of places, a pub on the edge of the cobble-stoned path. It was called the “Golden Rose”. They sat at the bar and ordered a pint of home brewed ale at the recommendation of the bartender.

Compared to Northern ale, it was weak.

“Perhaps the Reach should stick to wine making” Jon whispered under his breath as the bartender left them alone. She chuckled and nodded her head.

“I agree,” She told him, “Do you think they have any Northern ale?”

“Northern ale?” Jon questioned, his grey eyes surprised, “That’s quite the strong taste. Do you like it?”

“It’s better then this” She replied. As the bartender returned with their simple pub sandwiches, she questioned if he had any northern ale. He too looked surprised, but nodded, wandering away to grab her a pint.

“Here you go, little lady,” The bartender told her in his thick accent, placing the mug of dark Northern Ale down before her. She grinned in thanks as she picked up the mug, taking a long gulp. It tasted of home.

“Try it,” She told Jon, passing him the mug. He hesitated for a second before lifting it to his own lips, taking a good swig of the dark ale.

He made a face. The bartender and she laughed.

“It’s not meant for everyone, dear” The bartender joked, patting Jon’s shoulder.

“That’s bloody awful” Jon choked, “Reminds me too much of the stuff we home brewed in the military,”

“It’s not that bad” She took the mug back, taking another long sip, “It’s perfect”

“I’ll take the Reach ale over that tar, and that’s saying something,” Jon quipped, stealing her barely sipped Reach ale mug from beside her. He had already finished his.

“Then you owe me an onion ring,” She replied, stealing the fried deliciousness from his plate. He retaliated by stealing a fry from hers.

They chatted amicably as they finished their sandwiches and ales, even asking the bartender what else there was to do in the town. They had a half an hour to kill before they had to be back on the train to Old Oaks. It was the only one that went back until the last one at midnight. He suggested merchants row, which led to the rail station.

Jon paid the tab, refusing to let her pay for even half of it. They left the pub cheerfully, making their way towards the cobblestone path that was lined with merchants and tourists alike.

People were selling fresh fruits, fresh veggies, and fresh flowers, haggling and yelling out prices.

“I’ll be right back,” She told him, spotting a fresh fruit stand that boasted incredibly ripe looking spoils. She barely gave Jon time to reply as she ducked in the crowd, making her way towards the little old woman selling fruit.

She bought a handful of lemons and oranges, apples and pears. They didn’t have such selection in the North. When she went back to where she had ditched Jon, he wasn’t there. She panicked for a moment, scanning the crowd. She spotted him a second later, making his way towards her, something hidden behind his back. She quirked a brow.

“What do you have there?” She questioned, trying to sneak a peak at whatever it was.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” He questioned, chuckling as he evaded her.

“Jon” She pouted.

“Alright, alright” He relented, “A rose, for the lady” He told her, presenting her with a bright blue winter rose. She gaped as she looked at it, “May I?” He questioned, gesturing to her hair. She nodded mutely and he tucked the rose behind her ear, “The blue matches your eyes,” He told her.

“Winter roses are my favorite,” She told him honestly.

“Well then I’m glad the merchant was out of blue buttons, because that was my first guess,” He told her with a smile, “Have enough fruit there?” He questioned, noticing her bag of spoils.

“I hope so” She replied, “I couldn’t resist. Nothing like this grows where I’m from. I mean, look at this apple!” She told him, pulling out the ripe red fruit.

“It’s a lovely apple,” He told her, shaking her head. She grinned back at him, stuffing the apple back into the bag of fruit she carried. Jon grabbed her hand, and then her bag of fruit, before leading her towards the train.

She smiled the entire walk there.

She didn’t even realize she had fallen asleep until Jon was nudging her awake. The ride back to Old Oaks wasn’t direct like the line they had taken there. It went east first, then looped back towards the west, heading to Old Oaks.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty” He murmured as he gently shook her shoulder.

“Oh gods, I’m sorry,” She apologized as she sat up, blinking away the sleep from her eyes. She had fallen asleep against his shoulder and was embarrassed to find that she had drooled a bit on his flannel, “I fell asleep on you and then drooled on your shoulder, how charming am I?” She questioned as she wiped away the drool stain.

“I’ve had worse” He told her, stilling her hands with his own, “We’re just pulling into the station now,” He told her as the train lurched.

She nodded and stretched, her limbs cramped from sitting so long. The train stopped and the exits opened. Jon stood and offered her his hand again, not letting it go.

They left the station and stood on the main street of Old Oaks.

“I’ll walk you back to your place” Jon told her, “It’s getting late”

“You don’t have to. I’m all the way on the shore, at the inn,” She told him. She had no idea where he lived, but the walk to the inn would take 15 minutes, and if he had to walk back to his place, which was probably in the residential area, it would take him another 30 to backtrack.

“Really?” He questioned, his brows going up, “So am I,”

“Small world” She murmured. She hadn’t seen him there yet, which wasn’t uncommon. She hadn’t seen any of the other tenants since she left so early in the morning and came back in the middle of the workday. She had only seen the owner a handful of times, to pay her and such, “I guess we’ll walk each other back then”

“I guess so” He replied, taking her hand once more as they started on their path down the street. They walked in comfortable silence. They passed Kingdom’s, which was only a couple blocks from the shore, and the place was closed. It closed early on Friday’s and Sunday’s.

“She’ll be eager to know how our little trip went,” She murmured as they passed the café. Jon chuckled as he nodded.

“I’m surprised she didn’t stay open late just to find out” He remarked dryly.

“She’s a good woman” She whispered, “She really is,”

“Don’t I know it” Jon told her, “She was probably the first person to even speak to me when I first arrived, probably the only friend I have here, even after three months,”

“Hey” She nudged his shoulder with hers, “I’m your friend,” She told him, as they got closer to the shore. She could smell the salt and the ocean, feel the breeze against her skin. They were basically at the inn, but Jon had stopped in his path.

“It isn’t the same sort of friendship,” He told her, his voice sounding huskier, deeper. She realized then how close they were. He had stopped and she had stepped closer at some point. She could feel his breath, and see how dark his eyes had grown.

“It isn’t?” She questioned softly. She needed to reassure herself, make sure she wasn’t reading his signs wrong. His lips pressing against her own assured her a second later. She was so startled that she froze, prompting Jon to pull away.

“I’m sorry, I thought-” He apologized hastily, but she stopped him, pressing her lips against his this time, tangling her hands in his dark curls to hold him closer.

Minutes later they broke apart panting, still clutched to one another. One of his hands rested on her lower back while the other was at her cheek. Her left hand was tangled in his hair while the right was pressed against his chest. He smiled widely, causing her to smile.

Words failed her at that moment, so she kissed him again.

Chapter 3 Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Alayne Stone

Old Oaks, The Reach

May 6^th

She had been in the Reach for a little over two months now. She and Jon were officially “going steady” as Rosie liked to say. She also liked to take credit for their relationship, since they met at her café. She was telling people that she was a match maker. They let her have it. It was adorable to see her to so happy over something.

She had found out that he stayed on the third level of the inn while she was on the first. His room had a view of the land, while hers faced the ocean. Usually they sat on her balcony at night, and talked. Sometimes they’d go to dinner in town, or use the kitchenette in Jon’s room.

It was comfortable. It felt good, right somehow.

She showed up to the boardwalk that morning, dressed in a pair of leggings and an old Vale sweatshirt that had belonged to her father at some point. He had gone to school in the Vale, when he was just the second son.

“Morning,” Jon greeted, kissing her cheek as he appeared behind her.

“Morning” She replied, turning her head so that their lips met. It was a chaste kiss but it left her burning for more.

“You ready for this?” He questioned. He had rented two bikes from the shop in town to teach her. They were resting on their kickstands. He had two helmets in his hand, and some pads for her knees and elbows. Jon was determined to teach her how to ride a bike. She wasn’t thrilled about it.

“Nope” She replied, but she allowed him to sit her down on a bench to start putting the pads on like she was a child. She wore her work sneakers, since she didn’t have any other appropriate shoes.

“You’ll be fine,” He told her as he adjusted the kneepad. His hands running up and down her legs were giving her all sorts of feelings, but she bit her lip. She was a virgin, as she always expected to be on her wedding day, but Jon was seriously causing her to question that choice, not that he made any comment on it. He never pushed her to go further, never failed to stop when she asked him too. Of course, the possibility of going further was frightening and exciting at the same time. She knew there was a good chance that she would have to explain the marks on her back at some point, but she figured she would cross that bridge when she came to it. She was getting a lot better at living in the now and not worrying about the future. They never went farther then second base, or so she thought. Arya had tried to explain it to her a few nights ago on their weekly calls, but she had been to flustered to continue that conversation. She was 23, she should know this stuff.

“Alayne?” He questioned, drawing her out of her thoughts, “Are you even awake?” He chuckled.

“I’m awake,” She told him quickly, trying to ignore the knot of guilt in her stomach that formed every time he called her Alayne. She hated lying, but at this point, she saw no other option. It had gone on so long that she couldn’t change it now.

“Then let’s go,”

Two hours, three scrapes, a lot of yelling, and a bloody nose on his part, and they were sitting in her room, holding a towel to his bleeding face.

“I’m sorry,” She told him for the fifteenth time, wincing as he winced.

“It’s fine,” He mumbled through the towel and blood, “Not your fault,”

“I punched you,” She replied back, biting her lip.

“No, I just got in the way of your fist” He replied, smirking as he looked up at her. After falling three times, she had finally gotten the hang of it, but then it started misting. She hit a wet patch on ground wrong with the bike, and slid. Jon had been jogging beside her just encase, and her flailing limbs found a target with his nose.

“It’s still bleeding,” She whispered, pulling the towel away to inspect his nose. Jon just shrugged though.

“It’s okay,” He told her, grabbing the towel and pressing it back against his face. He pulled her down onto his lap as well, hugging her with his free arm, “Really, it’s nothing,” His words did little to alleviate her guilt, so she settled on pressing a kiss to his temple, trying to let it go.

“Are you sure it isn’t broken?”

“I’m positive, I was in the military, remember? I have advanced first aid training” He pulled the rag away again and prodded at his nose with the tips of his fingers. It didn’t seem to be actively bleeding anymore, “See? All good,” He told her, grinning.

“You look like you got into a fight,” She told him as she stood from his lap. She threw the bloodied towel onto the table and pulled him up from the bed, and towards the bathroom. She helped him clean up his face and wash the blood away. Once she was satisfied that she hadn’t seriously injured him, they ended up back on her bed.

“Doesn’t look like we’ll be able to continue our lesson” Jon murmured as the rain pounded against her balcony door, “Want to watch some mindless TV?” He questioned.

“Sure” She replied, grabbing the remote and settling against him at the head of her bed. He threw an arm around her and she settled against his chest as the TV turned on slowly. It wasn’t the best, but it got the basic channels.

“Ah, regional news” Jon remarked as the screen came into focus. There was a picture of Joffrey and a brunette she didn’t recognize. They were smiling at the screen. She froze, leaning forward as she turned up the volume. If Jon found it strange, he didn’t say anything.

“This morning, in the capital of Highgarden, it was announced that Princess Margaery Tyrell and Prince Joffrey Lannister Baratheon would be wed,” The Reach anchor spoke as the pictures changed, “This comes as a surprise to everyone, as Princess Margaery was formerly engaged to Prince Renly Baratheon, uncle to Prince Joffrey, who was supposed to be engaged to Princess Sansa Stark, of the North”

“Oh my god” She whispered, watching in disbelief as a picture of herself popped up on screen. It was old, from when she was probably 17, and she was thankful she barely recognized herself. She looked plastic in the picture, smiling robotically with her arm entwined with Joff’s.

“Princess Sansa and Prince Joffrey had been previously engaged for 5 years, and before that, betrothed for two. There is no word yet on what prompted the dissolution of the engagement. Both the North and the Stormlands refuse to comment. A source close to the Northern royalty says that Princess Sansa hasn’t been seen in public for weeks. We will continue to report on this developing story as the details become available. For now, I’m Chet Adams with Reach News”

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Jon questioned as she finally leaned back, “Arranged marriages, I mean”

“I know” She whispered, “It’d be awful,”

“Well, perks of being not a royal” Jon shrugged, as he changed the channel. He reached forward and dragged her back against him, tickling her sides. It was strangely playful. Jon was usually on the serious side, but he was grinning at her so carefree that she found herself grinning back, struggling against him as he wiggled his fingers against her sensitive sides. She fought back by kissing him, distracting him from tickling her.

They watched a marathon of some fantasy trilogy that lasted until late. He dozed off beside her, his head falling onto her shoulder. Instead of waking him, she pulled the blanket over them both, cuddling against his chest.

She woke up the next morning still in his arms. He was sound asleep, but she had to get going to get to work on time. She showered and got dressed, and he still slept. Grinning at how deep of a sleeper he apparently was, she kissed his cheek before leaving, not worrying about him being alone in her room.

“You’re late, dearie” Rosie chided as she entered the café ten minutes late. She apologized quickly, ducking her head, but Rosie just laughed, “I hope its Jon’s fault,” She added.

“It wasn’t” She replied as her cheeks flushed red at the implication. Everyone in the Reach was so sexual and outspoken about it. It was flaunted in the Reach and Dorne, whereas the rest of the kingdoms were a bit prudish when it came to that, “I forgot to set my alarm cloak”

“You’ve got some scratches on your arms, love” Rosie pointed out with a gleeful smile as she tied the apron around her waist.

“Jon taught me how to ride a bicycle,” She told the woman as she checked the coffee pots. Rosie had everything ready of course.

“Oh, bicycles, how romantic. My husband used to take me riding on a tandem bicycle every summer,” Rosie told her as they started preparing the pastries for the morning rush.

“It was far from romantic, Rosie. I fell and punched him in the nose. I thought I had broken it,” She told her as she lifted the coffee urns with a grunt. They were heavy still. Rosie always promised that she would get used to it, but she hadn’t yet.

“Oh, dear” Rosie tried to hide her laughter, but it wasn’t working. She was laughing at her, “Is he alright? It’s not really broken is it?”

“According to him, no, thank the gods” She muttered. That would have been extremely embarrassing, “What are these?” She questioned as she spotted the new pastries that were on display. She noticed that the only kingdoms displayed were of the Reach, the West, and the Stormlands, along with two different crowns, and a lion with a flower in it’s mane.

“Haven’t you heard? The Princess is finally getting married!” Rosie told her excitedly as she gestured to the pastries, “The Reach will be further connected to both the Stormlands and the West,”

“Of course” She murmured quietly, “They’re brilliant”

“Oh, I can’t wait to watch that royal wedding. We haven’t had one in ages, not since Prince Garlan married Lady Leonette, and that was ages ago. And of course when we heard about the marriage between Princess Margaery and Prince Renly, we were dismayed. That girl is the crown jewel of the Reach, my dear, she would have paled in comparison to King Robert’s second brother, why he was sixth in line, not to mention the rumors swirling around about he and Prince Loras”

“It is said that they were lovers” She commented, unable to say anything positive about Princess Margaery or Prince Joffrey. She remembered when the rumors broke of Renly’s orientation, and the problems it caused. King Robert had no problem, so long as he kept it quiet, but Prince Stannis was against it wholeheartedly. In the end though, it was King Tyrell that put an end to it, forbidding his son to see the Stormland Prince and betrothing him to a Dornish lady. King Robert, on behest of Prince Stannis, then offered a match between Renly and Margaery to make up a reason for Renly visiting Highgarden so often. It didn’t work clearly.

“It is known that they were lovers” Rosie told her seriously, shaking her head “It shall be one of the biggest weddings of the century, mark my words. We haven’t had a match this powerful since the wedding of Prince Joffrey’s parents themselves,”

Marriage between the kingdoms was seldom done, unless they needed each other for something. King Robert and Queen Cersei had married for that reason, and that reason alone. There was no love involved. The Stormlands needed money, and the West needed the popularity that King Robert had amongst all the people of the realm. Queen Cersei was the daughter of King Tywin Lannister, of the West. Her twin brother was heir to that throne, and since he was unmarried, next in line would be one of Cersei’s sons, of which she had two. There was a third brother, Tyrion, but he had withdrawn his name from the line of succession to become Councilman of the West.

This was most fortunate, because Robert had an elder son from his first marriage, a boy called Gendry. He was heir to the Stormlands, while Joffrey had been named Prince Jaime’s apparent heir. Joffrey hated Gendry though, and he hated that he wouldn’t inherit his father’s crown, though he still wanted the Westerland crown. He wanted them all in truth, her own included.

“Or the wedding of King Eddard and Queen Catelyn” She commented, referring to her own parents, “Or of King Jon and Queen Lysa” Referring to the marriage of her aunt, the third in line to the Riverland crown, and the King of the Vale.

Her late grandfather, Hoster Tully, was the former King of the Riverlands. He had managed to marry both of his daughters off to kings of different kingdoms, leaving his own crown to his only son. That left the three Tully children rulers of three separate kingdoms, an impressive feat. Of course, her Aunt was crazy and refused to even speak to her siblings and her uncle was married to a gold digging whor* that would eventually ruin his title, but still, it was impressive.

“Yes, well, everyone knows that the Tully’s got lucky in that one,” Rosie told her, “That King Hoster was quite the man. All the girls used to dream about meeting the Riverland prince, even those in the other kingdoms. And then he went and got swept away by the sixth daughter of some nobleman. Oh, I was so jealous,” Rosie recalled. She would have been a few years younger then her grandfather, but old enough to remember that time period fondly, ‘Those blue eyes and red hair. Those Tully genes are something else. He was a catch,”

She didn’t have a chance to ask Rosie anything further about her grandfather, because the rush began as five people crowded into the shop at the same time, each wanting different coffees and different pastries.

By the time the rush slowed down, it was nearing the end of her shift. The place was packed for some reason today. Rosie came out from the kitchen and flicked on the TV, watching as the midday news came on.

They were discussing the royal wedding, so Rosie turned it up.

“The most interesting part of this story however, is not the impending match between our beloved princess and the golden prince, but the complete and utter silence from the North on this matter. Stark officials have refused to comment and have seemingly gone radio silent in Wintertown. Sources state that the castle has been closed to the public for weeks, an unheard of event in the North,”

The screen flashed to a different reporter, who was at the border of the North.

“While the northern capital of Wintertown has been cut off completely from communication, we were able to speak with our inside source, who states that Princess Sansa Stark has not been seen in public for nearly six weeks, skipping numerous events, including her annual children’s gala. Sources from inside the castle state that it appears the princess has indeed gone AWOL and that a massive search is underway in the North to find her,”

The screen flashed to yet another picture of her and Joffrey, back in high school. She was looking at him instead of the camera. Her red and gold concoction of a dress was tight and drained her.

“When asked about his niece’s disappearance, Councilman Benjen Stark had this to say,”

The screen flashed to her uncle in the capital, reading a script in his hands. He looked bored actually. Then again, Uncle Benjen always looked bored at official events.

“At this time, the North is not prepared to issue any statement regarding the betrothal of Prince Joffrey Lannister Baratheon to Princess Margaery Tyrell. In regards to her disappearance from the public eye, I can assure you that Princess Sansa is quite well. No further comment, thank you”

“Are you becoming a royal watcher?” Jon questioned as he entered the café, catching sight of what was on the television. She straightened up and shook her head.

‘That’s all Rosie” She stated, distracting him as she gestured to the pastries, “Look at all of these”

“Ah, I can imagine that it will only grow worse as the wedding approaches,” Jon commented, “Which is why I do not regret buying these” He told her, producing two tickets from his back pocket. She reached forward eagerly, wondering if they were what she thought they were.

“You didn’t,” She whispered, looking at the paper in her hand. It was a ferry ticket to Old Town, where she had wanted to visit for ages, along with a museum pass for the citadel, which she knew was near impossible to get. The citadel only did tours four times a year.

“But I did” He told her, grinning, “I even cleared it with Rosie. We go next weekend,”

“Ah, thank you!” She reached forward and hugged him around the shoulder, pressing a wet kiss to his cheek with a loud smack.

“I knew I heard you!” Rosie announced as she came out of the kitchen, “Oh, don’t stop on my account, loves” She cackled. Jon’s ears tinged pink, which she now knew happened when he was embarrassed, and he ducked his head.

“You knew he’d be stopping by anyways,” She told the older woman. Jon came later now, around the time she finished up her work so that he could walk her back to the inn. He usually wrote whatever he needed to in the morning and then hung out with her all afternoon. It worked just fine for her though sometimes he worked a shift at the local bar, security type thing with his military background, “Thank you for the day off by the way” She flashed the tickets.

“You’ll be doing me a favor, love. I need someone to pick us this lovely little teakettle that’s at an antique shop in Old Town. I’d go myself but my eyes aren’t what they used to be, can’t drive that far”

Chapter 4 Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Alayne Stone

May 7^th

She had never felt so sick in her entire life. Her entire body ached and her head was fuzzy. Her throat felt parched but water hurt to swallow. Her nose was disgusting, dripping constantly and clogged. She had never missed Doctor Luwin more then she did in that instant. The wise doctor would surely have a cure for this.

She groggily grabbed her cell phone and dialed Rosie, hoping to god that the woman would be able to find a replacement on such short notice.

“Alayne, dear, is this you? You’re late. Is everything okay?” Instead of answering though, she started to cough, apologizing as she hacked for breath, “Oh, dear, you sound like death”

“I feel like death,” She mumbled, “I’m sorry Rosie, I can’t come in this morning”

“Do not worry about a thing, dear. Della’s been on me to let her start back half time, today will be the perfect trial run. You just focus on getting better, you hear?”

“Thank you, Rosie,” She mumbled, already slipping back to sleep. She closed the phone as she snuggled in her comfy pillows. She just wanted to sleep the day away, and hopefully wake up without feeling like death.

What felt like fifteen minutes, but was actually three hours, later heavy knocking sounded at her door. She could vaguely make out the familiar voice, so she staggered out of bed, cursing the wave of dizziness, and pulled open the door. Jon was standing there with a bag of something, looking perfectly healthy.

“You look like death” Were the first words out of his mouth. She glared at him as best she could, hating that he was fine even though he had spent just as much time out in the rain as she had. He grimaced as if he realized he had said that out loud, “I brought tea and soup?” He offered, holding out the bag like a prize.

“I hate that you’re not sick” She mumbled, moving aside to let him enter. She left him there, wandering back to her bed and collapsing.

“Whoa, you okay?”

“I just want to die,” She muttered against the blankets. She heard Jon chuckle before she felt the bed dip as he sat next to her.

“Drink this,” He told her. She rolled over and pulled herself into a sitting position as he looked on with a grin on his face, smug bastard. She took the proffered mug and took a sip, nearly splitting it out.

“Gah, what the hell” She rasped, “That’s awful”

“It’ll help, I promise” He told her, holding the cup back to her lips, “Just ignore the taste, it’ll make you feel 89% better”

“And the other 11%?” She growled as she took another awful sip. It was spicy and hot and weirdly thick. It had a tangy aftertaste and a bitter before taste. She didn’t know what was in it and she was sure as hell not going to ask.

“Soup and the comforting presence of yours truly” He told her as she took the cup on her own, grimacing as she took another gulp. She hated to admit it, but her throat was already starting to feel better, in a numb, warm way.

“How come you’re not sick?” She questioned as she finished off the nasty liquid. He took the mug and placed it on the bedside table, shrugging.

“Good immune system” He told her, pulling the blanket around her shoulders, “And I was dressed in thicker layers yesterday,” He leaned back against her headboard, pulling her with him as he went. She ended up tucked under his arm, her face against his chest.

“I’m going to get snot all over your chest” She warned, grimacing as she said it. It was disgusting, definitely something she didn’t want Jon to see.

“It’s not going to kill me,” He told her as he held her tighter, “I have a brother, not to mention that I spent three years in the military, dealing with far worse then a little nasal drip. But if this makes you feel better” He pulled the blanket around her up so that her “nasal drippings” would land on that.

“Thanks” She mumbled, feeling a lot more comfortable with his arms around her, “I thought you had work today,”

“I do, tonight” He told her, “But Rosie called me about an hour ago worrying about you. So I whipped up that delicious tea you just drank and got soup from her. I can call in sick if you want someone to stay with you,” He added, rubbing his hands up and down her arms as she shivered.

“No” She rasped, shaking her head and sniffing so that her nose didn’t actually drip onto the blanket between them, “I’ll be fine, it’s just a cold”

“You sure? Marsh won’t mind” Marsh was the man that owned the bar. He was a drunken jovial man, he wouldn’t mind at all. Half the time he tried to convince Jon to drink with him instead of working or join the pool tournaments that were held there.

“I’ll probably just sleep,” She told him, “Don’t want you catch this either”

“If I’m going to catch it I think I’m already screwed,” Jon told her.

“I’ll be fine” She assured him. She was 23, she could handle a cold, “How about we watch those movies you were ranting about the other day? The zombie ones?”

“You are in luck, Miss Stone” He drawled, pulling something from beside him into view, “I happened to bring them with me,” She chuckled as he untangled himself from her arms and pranced over the DVD player. He had been telling her for weeks that she had to watch these movies, that they were his absolute favorites. They featured a Northern border, the Wall, an army of dead beyond it. It was called “The Long Night”.

“Eight thousand years before the great conquering, there lived many a sort of creature beyond the great Wall. The First Men, the Children of the Forest, and those that the called the Others” The words were spoken in butchered Old Tongue, but there were subtitles on the bottom, “The First Men and the children of the Forest lived in peace until the darkness fell. With the darkness came the demonic creatures known as the Others, and thus the long night began. This is their story,”

The movie was incredibly loud and gruesome at points. She had her head buried against Jon’s chest, grimacing as the “zombies” hacked at the sworn brother of the Night’s Watch. It was a long movie though. She dozed off about an hour into it, not waking up until the credits started to on screen.

“Ah, sleeping beauty awakes” Jon murmured, “Feel any better?”

“A bit” She murmured. Her head was still fuzzy and her nose was congested to hell, but her throat wasn’t as sore. It had to have been the tea, “Is it over?”

‘You missed the ending” He teased.

“Damnit” She muttered sarcastically, “Is the movie why you decided to go to the military? Be stationed at the ancient Castle Black?” The movie was loosely based on a war ages ago, before the dawn of civilization. The Others were the rebels that lived North of the Wall.

“No” Jon chuckled, shaking his head, “I found this movie after I was discharged. I enlisted because of a friend of my father’s. I admired this guy since I was like six. He was in the Black Watch then, and I remember wanting to be him so badly. So when I turned 18, I enlisted,”

“Was he still a solider?” She questioned.

“No, he had retired long ago after some sort of injury,” Jon answered, “He’s in politics now, boring stuff really. Don’t want to be him anymore,”

“Was your father upset?” Jon spoke little of his parents, and if he did, it was only about his father. He spoke more often about his aunt and brother, though he had mentioned a sister once. They didn’t talk much about family dynamics, thankfully.

“Was he ever” Jon shook his head, “I was supposed to be the level headed son, the one that followed his path since it seemed unlikely my brother would. Luckily for me, my brother matured after I was deployed, and my father renewed his interest in him,”

“That sounds very clinical,” She told him honestly.

“That’s my father, clinical and emotionally distant” Jon told her, “It isn’t a bad thing, really, just is what it is” He shrugged. Next to him, his cell phone alarm went off, alerting them to the time. Jon had to get to the bar.

“Do you need anything? Ice cream? More soup? Tea? Juice?”

“I’m fine,” She told him, shooing him out of the bed, “Go work. I’ll just sit here for eight hours, watching mindless television and enjoying Rosie’s homemade soup,”

“I envy you” Jon told her seriously as he stood and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

‘I don’t have a fever” She teased.

‘I know” He replied, grinning as he pressed his lips to her forehead once again, “Though you are hot,”

“That’s corny,” She giggled, secretly loving it. He gave her a quick, chaste kiss on her chapped lips before dashing out the door, nearly late for work.

Feeling less tired but still disgusting, she rose from bed and ambled into the bathroom to shower. It left her feeling good enough to sit at the little table in her room and heat up the soup in her microwave.

Like everything Rosie made, it was amazing. It was thick and warm and filled with veggies she knew would have her healthy in no time. She was halfway through the bowl of steaming goodness when her mindless soap opera was cut short, the seal of the United Kingdoms flashing on the screen.

A reporter appeared outside the capital city of the Stormlands, surrounded by a mass of people. She let a breath out, not even realizing that she had been holding it, dreading news of herself or worse, her family.

“We are live in the capital city of Storm’s End where just five minutes ago, King Robert Baratheon announced the engagement of his eldest son, Prince Gendry Baratheon, heir to the Stormland crown”

The screen changed to a picture of Robert Baratheon, a man fatter then the fattest of men, Lord Manderly included. He had been her father’s best friend for ages. Her engagement to Prince Joffrey had been created to join their families once and for all. The eldest prince, Gendry, had been considering joining the military at that point, so her father and King Robert had agreed that she would marry Prince Joffrey, to join the Westerlands as well as their two kingdoms. Apparently Prince Gendry had decided to marry after all though.

“It is a happy day in the Kingdom of the Stormlands,” King Robert had a wide grin on his face, his cheeks ruddy from wine, though he did look truly happy, “Amongst rumors of trouble and animosity between our great kingdom and the Kingdom of the North, I am overjoyed to announced the engagement of my son, Gendry, to Arya Stark, Princess of the Northern Kingdom,”

The crowd went crazy.

She gaped at the screen herself, surprised. Arya hadn’t mentioned anything in their past phone calls. She hadn’t even hinted at anything. She watched as the screen changed again, showing her sister and Prince Gendry, holding hands and smiling happily at the screen. They looked happy.

It switched to a new reporter, an older man.

“You heard it here first, Amy. Prince Gendry Baratheon will wed the youngest Stark daughter, Princess Arya. This comes shortly after the public dissolution of the engagement of Princess Sansa Stark and Prince Joffrey Baratheon. The North has again refused to comment on the disappearance of Princess Sansa, though they had this to say about the impending nuptials of Princess Arya and Prince Gendry,”

The screen showed a video of her father at his desk. He looked older then he had in the past, gaunter. It was clearly pre taped, not live.

“The North is pleased to confirm the recent engagement between Princess Arya and Price Gendry. The North has no further comment on matters between our kingdom and the Stormlands or the Westerlands. Thank you,”

“What does this mean though?” The female reporter, Amy, questioned the main reporter, “Is this a marriage to placate the Stormlands? And where is Princess Sansa? Sources report that the entire Stark family was present at the engagement announcement, all save for the elder princess, who still has not been seen for two months,”

“Of course those are some of the most popular questions swirling around the kingdoms tonight, Amy, and the answer is, we simply don’t know. The disappearance of Princess Sansa Stark is nearly on par with the disappearance of Prince Baelerion Targaryen, who disappeared from the Crownland radar a year ago, and hasn’t been seen, or mentioned by the Targaryen royals, since,”

“It seems not everyone is cut out for the pressures of royal life. Perhaps the life of the modern royal simply became too much for Princess Sansa,” The reporter ended with.

She glared at the TV. The reporter had no idea what she was reporting about, no idea the pressures that came with being a royal. It was demanding and demeaning at points. She had no idea what Joffrey had done to her, what Cersei had done. She checked her anger though and picked up her cell, she had to talk with Arya.

Her sister picked up on the fourth ring.

‘Hello?” She sounded breathless.

“Hey, it’s me” She told her, wondering what Arya was up to.

“Oh thank gods,” Arya sighed, “I’ve been waiting for you to call for ages. You sound awful, are you okay?”

“I have a cold,’ She answered, “But more importantly, you have a fiancé,”

“You saw the news, didn’t you?” Arya questioned, “I’m sorry, I meant to tell you, but I never-”

“It’s okay” She assured her, cutting her off, “I’m happy for you, Arya. I know that neither you nor Prince Gendry would settle for an arranged marriage. How did this come about?”

“We’ve been friends since you first were engaged to Joff” Arya told her, “We started seeing each other after I turned 18 because he didn’t want father to hate him,” She could practically picture her sister rolling her eyes. Arya was 21 now, so they had been officially dating for three years, five, if they counted when she first was engaged to Joffrey, “I don’t want to upset you, but with your disappearance and the severance of the engagement between you and Joff, things have been strained, even with Robert and father. Gendry and I agreed that we were going to get married some day anyways, so we thought this might patch things up a bit,”

“Arya, I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault then,”

“No, it’s not. I understand why you ran, Sansa. You had to. If father or mother knew the truth, they would understand as well,”

“Then we would really be at war with the West,” She murmured quietly, thinking of the marks on her back.

“We nearly are. It’s still tenuous. If anything, this has made Cersei and Joff angrier, because Gendry and I will marry before he and Margaery,”

“Uncle Robert’s wish, I presume,”

“He wants the eldest to marry before the younger,” Arya sighed, “We’re to be married in a month, in the Stormlands,”

‘I wish I could be there, Arya, I really do,” She told her softly, “Where do you plan to honeymoon? Perhaps I could find you there,”

“Somewhere in the east. We haven’t decided yet. I want to go back to Braavos, but Gendry wants to see Lys. I told him I’d geld him before I let him set a single toe on a pleasure barge,” Arya laughed.

“I am sure you two will have a very prosperous union, sister,” She told her. She should have seen what was going on between her sister and Gendry, but she had been too self absorbed at that point.

“I hope so,” Arya answered, “Father says I have to be kind and ladylike but Uncle Robert told me I had to be strong to keep Gendry in line,”

“I am positive that you will have no trouble in doing that, sister” She told her, “Have you any new reports of home?” She questioned.

“Mother and Bran stayed with me in the Stormlands after the engagement was announced. Father and Robb went back to the North with Rickon,” Arya informed her, “Father’s pushing for Robb to marry now that I’m going to be married. He had the entire North searched recently, closing the borders as well. It’s been months though, he knows you’re not here. He’s considering asking the other kingdoms to aid in your return, but he doesn’t want to cause a scandal or endanger you, so he might turn to a private investigator,”

“He wouldn’t find me, sister. I followed your list to the last dot, and then some. Anything that connected me to Sansa Stark is long gone,”

‘Just be careful, alright?” Arya warned, “I’ll try to keep an ear on what’s going on, but I can’t promise it. I head back to Winterfell in two weeks. And then the Stormland party comes to Winterfell a week after for the wedding,”

“Thank you, Arya,” She whispered, “I love you, and I love the rest of them, okay? Tell Rickon that, please”

“I will, Sansa. We love you too,” Arya whispered as the line cut off.

Chapter 5 Chapter Text

Chapter 5

May 8^th

Jon came back from work and instead of going to his room, he knocked heavily on her door. She grumbled and moaned, as she got out of her warm cocoon of a bed to pull the door open.

“Hey” She greeted, “You okay?” He looked quite serious, and a bit sad. She reached out for his arm, rubbing her hand up and down it.

“Just a long night” He told her softly, “I wanted to see you,” He told her, placing his calloused hand against her cheek, “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, surprisingly” She answered, “The soup really helped, and I took a nice long shower,”

“Good” Jon nodded, “I’ll let you sleep then,”

“You can come in, Jon” She told him, moving aside to open up the doorway, “Talk for a bit,”

“I shouldn’t. You need to rest” He told her, leaning forward to kiss her lips chastely again, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Alayne,”

“Okay” She whispered, letting him walk away. She was confused, but in her sleep addled mind, she didn’t dwell on it long. He probably just didn’t want to get sick. She went to sleep a few seconds later.

The next day, Jon was back to his usual self, serious and quiet, but not as haunted as the night before.

The trip to Old town was that weekend. It was a beautiful sunny day as they boarded the ferry to take them down the coast to the old capital of the Reach. She wore a pair of cut off loose denim shorts and a light blue striped tank top, sneakers on her feet. It was May in the Reach, temperatures were liable to reach 100. If you wanted to reach the top bell tower of the Starry Sept, you had to climb a million bazillion stairs, and she wanted to be prepared. Jon wore shorts as well, a pair of navy ones that looked preppy paired with his striped t-shirt. It was a different look on him, but not a bad one. She had teased him about them both wearing stripes earlier in the day.

“It’s so beautiful,” She murmured as they watched the clear blue sea beneath them. They were standing against the railing, his arm around her, her head against his shoulder. The sea breeze whipped her hair around wildly.

“So are you,” He told her, grinning playfully when she turned to gape at him. He had been acting more carefree since that night he showed up late at her doorstep, it was a nice change. It made him seem his actual age. He was usually so serious, but she liked to believe that she brought the playful out in him, “Your hair looks lighter,” He commented. The dye was starting to fade even more and she hadn’t had time to go get more at the store.

“The sun does that” She lied easily, remembering how her young brother’s hair turned nearly blonde in the summer.

“I like it” He told her, tucking a wayward strand behind her ear.

‘Well, I like you” She retorted, leaning up to kiss his upturned lips. He grinned against her.

“I like you more” He countered, pulling away before kissing her again. She shook her head against his lips, laughing.

“Impossible’ She declared.

“Oh, you two are just the cutest” A woman told them from her spot only a few feet away. She was with what were probably her own husband, cameras and fanny packs declaring them tourists. If she had to guess, she would say they were from the Riverlands, “Here, let me take a picture of you,” She offered, holding up her professional looking camera.

“Thank you, ma’am” Jon told her as they righted themselves, smiling for the camera before them. She let her smile feel natural instead of the usual plastic smile she put on for the cameras.

“Oh, what a beautiful picture,” The woman crooned as she snapped away, “Write down your email addresses, I’ll send it to you, loves” She told them, pulling out a pad of paper from her big bag.

Jon scribbled his down first, which was good. She had no idea what to put down since she really didn’t have an email, not even one that belonged to Sansa Stark. She never needed it, save for university, which ended. She remembered suddenly about the one that she had first written to Rosie with.

“[emailprotected]” Jon had written down. It was his email for the columns he sometimes wrote for the Reporter. He passed her the pad and she hastily scribbled down what she hoped was the right address.

“[emailprotected]” She wrote carefully.

“Perfect” The woman proclaimed, “How long have you two been together?”

“Almost three months” Jon answered. The woman seemed surprised at that answer, her eyebrows rising.

“You seem like you’ve been together for ages” The woman told them, “Carl and I have been together for 30 years. This is our reward for that, a trip through the Reach,”

‘Where are you from?” She asked, wondering if she was right with her guess about the Riverlands.

“The Riverland Kingdom” The woman answered.

“Oh, lovely, which part? I have family over there” She replied.

“Just outside of Harrenhal,” The woman answered, “What part is your family from?”

“They live in a small town outside of the capital city,” She answered quietly, “Though I have a few others that live near the Crossing,” She replied honestly, referring to her Aunt Frey, the gold-digger that married her uncle.

They chatted about the Riverlands for most of the remaining time, while Jon took up a conversation about sports with the woman’s, who she was introduced to as Rita, husband, who she found out was named Carlton.

When they arrived at Old Town, the couple promised to email them the pictures, and they separated. Rita and Carlton were staying in Old Town and had just spent the night in Old Oaks to enjoy the resort beaches. She and Jon headed towards the Starry Sept first, to kill time before the citadel tour.

She stared in awe at the building before her. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. It was made of a dark marble with high circular arches and glistening stained glass. It was huge too, larger then any other step she had seen.

‘You ready to climb this?” Jon questioned, holding out his hand for her to take. She nodded eagerly, and pulled him towards the entrance. There was a small donation fee, a short line, and then they were climbing up the steps. There were smooth marble stepping-stones, worn down where people stepped. She slipped on the smooth surface once or twice, but Jon’s thickly corded arms caught her each time.

It took fifteen minutes to reach the top. In some spots, you had to climb on your hands and knees because it was so narrow. But when they reached the top and stepped outside to the observation deck, it was worth it.

The city was laid bare before them, bustling with life yet so quiet this high up. To the left was the ocean, sparkling and blue, and to the right, past the city limits, green fields as far as the eye could see.

“Wow” Jon breathed, looking around him, “This is amazing,”

“Isn’t it?” She murmured, leaning against him, “Thank you for bringing me here” She told him sincerely.

“It was my pleasure,” He told her, ducking to kiss her. His lips were soft and warm against her own. She melted into the kiss, never wanting to kiss anyone else again, not after him. It was like they were perfectly fit for each other.

They only broke apart when a young boy started giggling, pointing at them with his friend at his side.

“Ew, gross” One of them remarked. She chuckled as she ducked her head, flushing red as the boy’s mother scolded them and pulled them away.

“Well, on that note” Jon whispered, kissing her cheek, “We best get going to the Citadel, huh?”

“We best” She replied, taking his head and guiding him down the steps. It was quicker to go down then it was to climb up.

“Oh wait, we have to try this” Jon told her, tugging her to a merchant outside the Sept’s plaza. They were selling some sort of frozen treat, “It’s amazing” Jon told her as he got two cups of what appeared to be ice cream, though it didn’t look like the vanilla and chocolate they got in the north.

“What is it?” She questioned as she looked at the neon yellow frozen treat in her head. Jon took a huge bite of his own neon green treat, shaking his head as he smiled in delight.

“Just try it, love” He didn’t seem to notice his use of the term of endearment, but she certainly did. Her heart raced at it but she took a bite of the dessert. It was lemon, a very strong frozen lemon.

“It’s delicious,” She told him as she shoveled another bite into her mouth, “And lemon”

“I know you love your lemons” He teased, holding out a spoonful of green frozen ice to her, “But try the apple” She took the bite off of his spoon, grimacing at the apple taste. It was too strong for her, personally, but still good. She scooped up some lemon ice on her spoon and offered it to him. He winced at the strong sour taste.

“Eh, apple to lemon makes it taste weird” He muttered.

“Does not” She replied as she went back to eating her own ice. It tasted fine, even with the lingering trace of apple on her tongue.

“Come on, let’s get going to the citadel. Maybe we’ll have time to look at the piers before the tour,” Jon told her, offering her his hand after they had finished their icy treats. She took it within her own, and they set off.

The maze of roads that connected Old Town was narrow and stony. It was dark and a bit scary in some places, but light and cheery in most of the others. Lines of drying clothes hung above them and old woman chatted on balconies. It was cute, very scenic.

She could smell the salt air and she knew that they were getting close to the citadel, and to the piers. Once they emerged from the buildings around them, she could see the watchtower and the two massive sphinxes. They were early for the tour though, so Jon tugged her to the other direction, heading for the docks. They were mainly empty, save for a few older fishermen. They walked out to the end, standing high above the water. She was pressed against the railing, Jon’s arms caging her.

“Do you know something?” He questioned, looking down at her with serious grey eyes, “I was planning on leaving the Reach a day after you arrived in town,”

“You were?” She questioned in surprise, her brows arching.

“I had been there for nearly a month already, mostly due to Rosie. I never stay that long in a town or city. I like to travel, to see the world,”

“So why did you stay?” She questioned.

“Because on the day I walked into the café to say goodbye and thank you to Rosie and Della, there was a beautiful blue eyed woman standing behind the counter, a lopsided smile on her face,”

“My smile isn’t the one that’s lopsided” She nudged him, smiling at his heartfelt words, “Do you plan to leave Old Oaks then?” She questioned, wondering briefly if she was holding him back. She would hate to be the reason why he was stuck someplace.

“Only if you come with me,” He told her, “And only if you want to leave,”

“I’d follow you to land of the Others if I had to” She told him; quoting that stupid movie he loved. He grinned and bent down, kissing her softly.

“I’ll start planning that trip” He quipped, smiling against her lips.

“I wasn’t planning on staying this long in Old Oaks either” She admitted, “I was sort of running away, looking to expand my horizons, see Dorne, the West, the Sapphire Isles, everywhere. I wanted to see it all,”

“Then we should,” He told her, his face serious, “What’s keeping us here?”

“Rosie” She answered after a second, “Just Rosie really,”

“As much as I love Rosie, I think she would be more then happy for us,” Jon told her. She thought of the older woman and smiled fondly. She was like the grandmother she never had. Old Nan had been a great woman, but she wasn’t Rosie.

“And Della is coming back from maternity leave,” She whispered, “Where would we go first?” She questioned.

“We could go south to Dorne, spend a few weeks or days there depending on how we like it, and then we could go across the sea, to Essos,”

“To Braavos or Lys,” She mused.

“Anywhere we want,” He told her, grinning down at her.

“Anywhere at all” She realized. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, kissing him senseless. She pulled away only to catch her breath and speak, “Let’s do it,”

Chapter 6 Chapter Text

Chapter

May 24^th

She spoke to Rosie about leaving the day after they returned from Old town. She had her kettle in hand, a peace offering. The older woman got teary eyed, but nodded.

“I knew it would come to this, dearie” Rosie told her sadly, “You’re both so young and in love. Seeing the world is something you deserve to do. I only ask two things of you, Alayne,”

“Anything,” She promised.

‘One, that you wait a week until Della can come back to take her shift. She’s ready for it, but her babysitter doesn’t start until next week,”

“Of course, I would never leave you alone like that,” She told her. She would have waited even longer, just to have the peace of mind that Rosie was doing okay without her, “And the second?”

“That you write to me once in awhile, send pictures or a postcard. A wedding invitation perhaps,” She hinted. She felt her cheeks flush, but she nodded.

‘I will, I promise,” She told her. She hugged her tightly after that, thanking her for doing all that she had done. She wasn’t scheduled to work that day, so she left, meandering down to the inn. Jon was at the bar, working, so she had nothing to do really.

She stopped outside the small fabric store when she saw it. She had an idea in that moment, a wedding gift for Arya. She went in and purchased what she needed, excited about her new task. It would take her hours to finish, but she was motivated.

Their last week in Old Anchor went by quickly. Jon had to work as well, so they barely saw each other. She went to work in the morning, while he slept, and he worked the nights, while she slept. She saw him only in passing. It gave her enough time to finish Arya’s wedding gift though. If Jon had seen it, it would have raised some awkward questions.

It was a maiden’s cloak, a tradition in the North when two different kingdoms came together. The bride entered the ceremony wearing the cloak of her father’s family, and left wearing the cloak of her new husband’s family. It was grey and lined with white fur that had cost her an arm and leg, but it was worth it. On the back, she had embroidered a massive direwolf, the sigil of House Stark. It was one of her finest pieces.

She picked up her cell phone and called Arya. She hadn’t spoken to her sister in nearly two weeks. Her wedding was fast approaching and she also had to tell her that she was leaving.

“Oh, thank gods” Arya yelled as soon as she answered the phone, “It’s been ages, what were thinking? I was worried about you,” She berated her instantly.

“I’m sorry mom,” She laughed.

“Gods, I sounded just like her, didn’t I?” Arya chuckled, “I’m sorry, I’m going a little stir crazy with all the wedding planning and dresses that I have to wear,” Arya admitted, “Why haven’t you called in weeks?” She questioned, more calmly then she had a minute ago.

“I got caught up in things down here,” She told her, thinking about the planning she and Jon had put into their upcoming adventure, “That’s why I called actually. I’m leaving the continent in a few weeks,”

“You’re what?” Arya hissed, “To go where?”

“Essos with Jon, we’re going to travel for awhile,” She told her, “I was actually hoping you could wire me some more money,” She hated to ask, but the money was technically hers. Before leaving, she had emptied her accounts, giving half of the contents to Arya and half went to her Summer Isles account, “And to say goodbye. I thought that maybe we could meet somewhere, if you can sneak away,”

“Of course I can, and the money isn’t a problem,” Arya scoffed, “But where?”

“I was thinking the Westerlands, maybe the Crag,” It was a tourist attraction much like Old Anchor. It would be easy to catch a ferry up the seacoast. Easy to blend in.

‘When?” Arya asked.

“Tomorrow or the next day if you can,” She answered, “We leave in three days for Dorne,”

“I’ll meet you there tomorrow at four on the boardwalk, how’s that?” Della was back now, she only worked mornings. That gave her plenty of time to get the afternoon ferry to the West.

“That’s perfect, thank you,”

“I’ll see you then,”

She hung up from Arya and looked at her half packed room. She still had so much to do.

The next day she worked before heading back to the inn to get her things to take the ferry. Jon was waiting on the front porch of the inn, reading a newspaper.

‘Hey” He greeted, standing and kissing her. She replied back in kind, tangling her hands in his hair.

“Hey yourself,” She told him, “Walk with me, I’m sort of in a rush,” She told him, dragging him towards her room.

“Where are you going?”

“To say goodbye to my sister,” She told him, “I have a ferry at noon to the Crag. I’ll be back before nine, I hope,”

“I would have come with you,” He told her, looking a bit upset that she hadn’t told him about it. She didn’t see him in truth. She would have, but he had a late shift at the bar last night.

“I need to do it alone,” She whispered, “But thank you,”

“If you’re sure” He told her, “I’ll walk you to the ferry,” He took the bag that had Arya’s gift in it, carrying it for her. He didn’t ask what was in it. They walked hand and hand down the boardwalk, towards the ferry station. People were already boarding.

“Be careful,” He whispered as he leaned in to kiss her. She deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. The sound of the ferry horn blowing broke them apart though. Jon passed her her bag, and she boarded the ferry, waving goodbye as they pulled away from shore.

The trip up the coast was three hours. It was breezy but warm enough to sit out on the open deck. She enjoyed the salt air and the sound of the water. She read up on travel brochures from Dorne and Essos, taking note of the things she wanted to see and where.

By the time they docked in the Westerlands, she had filled up four pages in her notebook. She tucked it into her bag and exited the ferry after everyone else. She double-checked with the captain of the ferry that the boat was returning at six thirty before leaving the docks.

She was an hour early, so she went to the little café on the boardwalk. She ordered a pastry and a cup of iced coffee, enjoying the sea breeze as she watched the world pass by. She had brought a book with her, but she didn’t open it. She preferred to watch normal people going about their normal day. A child and his mother, eating ice cream as they strolled along, or an elderly couple, still holding hands after all these year, gave her a feeling of hope. Maybe she could have that one-day. She couldn’t have it now, not here in the kingdoms, but maybe she could have it in Essos, with Jon.

“You look deep in thought, sister” A voice to her left startled her. It wasn’t the one she was expecting. She gaped at her brother as she frantically looked about, searching for a troop of Northern guards, or worse, Westerland ones, “I came alone, relax,” He told her quietly.

“Robb” She whispered, “How?” She questioned.

‘Arya told me that you would be here,” Robb explained simply, “Can I have a hug now?” He questioned. She nodded and wrapped her arms around her brother tightly. Growing up, they had been extremely close. He was the stereotypical older brother. They had drifted apart when she was engaged to Joff.

“I missed you, brother,” She told him truthfully as he pulled away.

“As did I” He replied, “Do you have time to sit and chat before you leave for wherever it is you live?”

“For you? Of course” She nodded, gesturing to the empty seat at her table. She sat down and looked over her brother closely. He had a beanie covering his auburn hair, and thick glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looked more grunge then preppy prince, sort of like Jon. No one would recognize him, not here at least.

“Can I get you something to drink, sir?” The waitress that had gotten her pastry and coffee flounced over, smiling brightly at her elder brother. Robb smiled back at her briefly and ordered the same thing she had. She ordered another as well.

“She’s cute, isn’t she?” She whispered as the waitress walked off with their orders.

“The waitress?” Robb questioned, “Sure, she’s got a pretty smile,” He replied with a shrug of his shoulders, “What does it matter?”

“Just observing” She told him, leaning back in her seat now that she was satisfied the Northern army wasn’t about to drag her back home, “How are you?”

‘How am I?” Robb questioned, “How are you, sister? I haven’t seen you for four months, nary a word. One day you’re in Winterfell, planning your children’s fund gala, and the next morning you’re gone without a word,”

“I left mother and father a note” She defended herself, “But I couldn’t stay Robb, and I can’t explain it, but I couldn’t do it anymore,” She paused as the waitress returned with their things. She set them down carefully, smiling once again at Robb.

“Can I get you anything else, sir?” She questioned softly. Robb shook his head, smiling faintly.

“No, thank you though” The waitress nodded and took off again, leaving them alone with each other. Robb took a sip of the coffee and a bite of his pastry before speaking again.

“How did you do it?” Robb questioned, “I mean, father’s been searching for you all over the North, the Riverlands, and the Vale. And yet here you are in the Westerlands, taking coffee with me,”

“Arya helped,” She told him honestly, “She got most of it together, and I just followed her orders. And don’t get any ideas. I don’t live here,”

“I didn’t think you did,” Robb answered, “You look well, I have to say. Happy, even,”

“I am happy” She told him, smiling as she thought of all the things in her life that she now had to be happy over, “Deliriously so, brother”

“And why is that? Were we truly so depressing?”

‘It wasn’t you or anyone else in our family, Robb,” She told him softly, “It was me. I hated the person that I had become, and I needed to find out who I really was, without my name or my crown” She whispered the last part.

“And you had to run away to find that?”

“Life is so different where I am now, Robb. I got a job. I made friends that like me for who I am, not what I’m worth. People look at me and they don’t see the second in line for a crown, or a piece of cattle to be bought. They see me for me,”

“You mean the person you’re pretending to be,” Robb corrected, “You cut your hair, dyed it darker, your glasses. You changed everything you could about yourself,”

“A different name and some cosmetic differences, yet still the same person, Robb,”

“I guess I just don’t understand it, Sans” Her old nickname hit her hard in the gut. She hadn’t heard it in months, “You had everything you could ever need back home. All you ever spoke about was marrying Joff and ruling the West with him. You loved being you,”

“I did love being me” She whispered, “And then I didn’t. I felt so trapped, Robb. Nothing I ever did was what I wanted to do. I’m not saying that I hated it all, but I never had a say in it. Father and Uncle Robert decided that Joff and I would wed. Father told me that I would be marrying Joff. Mother told me to be happy that I was wedding such a powerful and wealthy man, a man that would inherit one of the most powerful kingdoms. Customs dictated that I should be happy in making such a great match, so I told myself that I was. A golden prince for a princess, but I wasn’t happy Robb,”

Robb was looking at her strangely. She could tell that he was sort of getting the idea, but that he wasn’t grasping it completely. She knew that it wasn’t the same for guys. They didn’t have such strict guidelines on what they could or couldn’t do. But she was the daughter of a king, not the son, so she was at the mercy of another’s decisions.

“The waitress, you think she’s pretty, yes?” She questioned again.

“Yes, we went over this. She’s a pretty girl,” Robb sighed.

“She likes you. You should ask her for her number” She told him. Robb rolled his eyes at her and sighed.

“You know I can’t, sister”

“If you were you, minus the crown, would you ask her out?” She questioned, “Or if she was the daughter of the Northern noble or southern royalty?”

“Yes, but she isn’t” Robb answered, “So it’s not really a problem,”

“That’s the beauty of it all, Robb, of being normal. You can ask whomever you like out. You can wear whatever you please, offend whomever you wish, date anyone you like. It’s that simple, Robb,” She explained, finally getting her freedom point across to her brother.

“You met someone” Robb realized instead, “Sansa, did you meet someone?” He questioned when she made no move to answer him.

“I did” She nodded, “And he’s just a regular guy, Robb,”

“What happens when he realizes you’ve been lying to him?” Robb questioned, his voice low.

“He wouldn’t” She replied, “Because the person I was doesn’t exist anymore, Robb,”

“The truth always comes out, sister. I just hope you know what you’re doing,” Robb cautioned her, “Are you happy?”

“I am,” She nodded, “He makes me happy, Robb, deliriously so. And he’s a good guy, an honorable man. He’s ex-military and has a degree in History and Arts. He’s from the capital,” She told him all that she wanted him to know, “His name is Jon,” She added. It was a common enough name that she knew he would never be able to track him down.

“Is that why you need the money?” Robb questioned, “Arya sent me with a wad of cash and a few trinkets, said that you had asked for it,”

“We’re leaving the continent to travel abroad, to see the world” She confided in him, “We’ll be in Essos in a fortnight or less,”

‘Essos?” Robb questioned, “Traveling to a different continent with a strange man, Sansa, is that wise?”

‘He isn’t strange, Robb. We’ve been dating for nearly four months. I’d trust him with my life,”

‘But not your real name,”

“Don’t’ start, Robb, please” She begged of him, “Let’s not talk of this anymore. Let’s talk about you, about your life. Tell me about your dozens of possible noble suitors”

Robb spoke of home for the rest of their time together. He made no mention about Jon or leaving the continent again. He spoke of Bran breaking his leg, of Rickon getting a new nanny because he bit the last one, and of getting to know Gendry better. Robb seemed to like him though he detested all the things that came with planning a royal wedding.

When the clock starting approaching her departure, she pulled Arya’s gift to her lap, passing it over to Robb.

‘My ride leaves soon” She told him quietly, “Give this to Arya when you get back. Tell her that I wish I could be there, but I can’t, so this is the closet I could manage. Tell mother and father that I love them, and that I’m sorry for everything. Tell Bran to get back on that horse, and tell Rickon to behave or else. Is that clear?”

“Crystal” Robb murmured, taking the bag from her slowly, “When will we see you again?” He questioned.

“I don’t know” She answered with a casual air, “I hope sooner rather then later, but I need this Robb. I can’t go back, not yet,”

“We all miss you, sister” Robb told her as they stood. She hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek. He passed her the small bag he had with him, “Take care with it,” He told her, “And if you ever need anything, you can call me,”

“I know I can” She told him, patting his cheek, “Goodbye, brother”

She walked out of the café, slowly heading towards the docks. Her traitorous eyes were tearing up on her as she walked away from her brother, and essentially, her life. But she was confident that going to Essos with Jon was the best choice for her. She knew that she needed to leave in order to ever come back again.

“Wait! San!” She turned as she saw Robb jogging towards her from the café, a scrap of paper clutched in his fist. He jogged over to her, panting as he thrust it into her face.

“I asked the waitress for her number, and gave her mine in return” Robb told her, “Because I can do whatever I want and date whomever I please, even with a crown,” She smiled at him faintly.

“Then when I see your name and hers in the papers, announcing your engagement, I’ll come to that wedding, I promise,” She told him seriously.

Maybe Robb would go somewhere with the waitress, maybe he would prove her wrong. She looked down to read the writing, hoping that one day she would indeed see the news of her brother’s engagement and recognize the name as the waitress. She squinted as she took in the girl’s scrolling scribble.

“Jeyne Westerling, 432-234-9643,”

Chapter 7 Chapter Text

June 6 ^th

They realized the day before they left that they’re more then set financially. She told him that she had a trust fund; he told her that he had the same. They both decided not to look for work while they travel unless they really want to. She doubted that they would.

Rosie and Della waved goodbye from the shore as their ferry left Old Anchor for good a week later. They had each packed a single suitcase, leaving everything else behind. It was nothing she needed anymore. Jon and she had everything they needed in those two bags.

They traveled south and spent a few days in the Arbor, going on wine tastings and lounging on the gorgeous white sand beaches. The weather was beautiful and the people of the Arbor were kinder then most. From there, they went to Starfall, and toured the Red Mountains. She got badly sun burnt and a scorpion bit Jon. Two days in a hospital later, they traveled by rail to Hellholt, a deserted town that bordered the Brimstone River. It was eerie, and they decided not to spend the night. A six-hour train ride later, and they arrived in Lemonwood. Jon obliged her and they visited every lemon grove, sampling lemon flavored items that ranged from wine to pastries to chicken, they ate it all. They spent the night in a villa that bordered the largest lemon grove. The next morning, after eating a lemon themed breakfast, they headed east again, towards Sunspear.

They spent a full week in the capital of Dorne. They visited the public gardens and the water baths. It was a strange, yet oddly enjoyable, event. They went to the castle and toured the gardens. They rode sand horses through the deserts surrounding the area; though Jon was wary of scorpions. They took a Dornish dancing class one night, and spent a whole day traversing the copious bazaars. Jon bought her earrings made of clay and turquoise. They, along with a group of five others, camped out for a night in the desert under a blanket of stars.

The next morning, July 1^st, they packed up their bags and headed for the port, looking for a ship Jon had already secured passage on. They didn’t ask for her ID or passport, both of which were fake, and she was thankful. She hadn’t even thought of that.

From Sunspear, they headed east, across the Summer Sea. The ship would be making port in three of the nine free cities, Lys, Tyrosh, and lastly, Braavos. Jon told her to pick one.

She picked Lys, since it was the closest.

“You just want to see the pleasure barges, don’t you?” Jon teased as they left the ferry, stepping foot onto foreign soil. She smiled as she looked around, marveling at the differences she could already see. It was like a different world in Lys. It was a real city, bustling around her, filled with all sorts of people, though most were tall and narrow, with blonde hair and blue eyes. They were beautiful.

“You caught me,” She teased as they found their way to an inn. It was small and quaint. The woman behind the front desk spoke a bit of Valyrian, and since neither of them spoke Lyseni, Jon took care of that. They dropped their bags, locked their door, and headed out into the city to explore.

They went to an apothecary’s shop where they learned about the Tears of Lys and the other popular poisons coined in this city. They went to an outdoor bazaar to exchange money, only to find that most places accepted foreign coin, which left them with a lot of currency with naked women on it. They took a picture and bought a postcard to send back to Rosie, along with a coin of a naked woman. Rosie would love it.

Later that night, they scribbled out a few sentences together on the back of the postcard. They hadn’t written to Rosie since they left, which was two weeks ago.

“Dear Rosie,

We spent a few warm days on the shores of the Arbor before heading towards Dorne. We suffered bad sunburns and Jon was lucky enough to meet an angry scorpion. He’s fine, save for his ego. We spent the rest of the time touring the desert, and learning about Dorne’s fascinating history. We find ourselves in Lys today, enjoying the culture and atmosphere of the Free Cities. It is beautiful, nearly as beautiful as the people that live here. We don’t know how long we’ll stay, or where we’re going next, but we’ll write as soon as we figure it out. We miss you.

Much love,

Alayne and Jon”

They ended up staying in Lys for a week before they hopped a ferry to Tyrosh. The ride was quick, and Tyrosh is brighter then Lys was. Everyone was colorful. It was a shock for her, though Jon seemed equally surprised as well. He tried to convince her to die her hair blue, to match her eyes. She tried to convince him to mimic the blue handlebar mustaches of the Tyroshi men. They went to the Fountain of the Drunken God, tossed their coins in, and then got drunk at the bar across the way with a couple from Pentos. Tyrosh was lively and fun, and they ended up staying two full weeks on the islands, enjoying everything it had to offer. When they remembered to write to Rosie, they sent her a postcard with a picture of them, blue streaks in their hair.

“I really hope this washes out,” She told Jon as she stared in dismay at the blue streak. It was royal blue, something noticeable in her lighter red hair. Her color was nearly back to it’s natural state, and slowly growing. She hated to hurt it further with the blue, but she was bit wine tipsy when they did it. It wasn’t as bad in Jon’s darker curls.

“I think that’s what the merchant said” Jon told her with a sheepish shrug, “But he was speaking butchered Valyrian and we were both drunk,”

“Dear Rosie,

After a week in Lys, we moved on to Tyrosh. If ever you were to visit a free city, Tyrosh is the one to visit, or at least it is over Lys. We will update that list to visit as we move further along in our journeys. Everything and everyone in Tyrosh is so lively and colorful. Many are greedy and competitive, but most are happy as well. We’ve been here two full weeks and are sad to be leaving, but adventures await. We hope you’re well,

Love Alayne and Jon”

From Tyrosh, they traveled to Myr. At that point, they decided that they would travel up the coast to Braavos before heading inland to Norvos, Qohor, and Volantis. Both agreed that they could skip Lorath.

Myr was an artisan city. They spent a two weeks alone going to all of the different museums and galleries. There was so much to see, and they had all the time in the word. From glass to lace to crossbows and arrows, Myr specialized in it all.

“Wow, look at that building” Jon gaped at the glass building before them. It was, ironically, a glass museum.

“Don’t trip and break it all” She warned as they entered, looking around at all the glass. It was all perfectly clear. It must have been a huge ordeal to clean.

“Ha, ha” Jon fake chuckled as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, “I’m not the one prone to falling, love” He teased. He had been using that phrase more and more often lately, “love”. He didn’t even realize he was doing it.

“We’ve been away for six weeks, and we’ve only been to the ER once” She reminded him, “And it wasn’t for me,”

“That was a completely random incident,” Jon laughed, “It wasn’t my fault the scorpion thought I looked tasty!”

Two hours later, and karma had bit her in the ass. She tripped on a cobblestone, twisting her ankle. She went down hard, definitely bruising her butt. Jon hid his laughter as he sat down next to her, probing at her ankle to check for broken bones.

“I think it’s just twisted,” He told her, “Try to stand” He stood up and offered her his hand, pulling her to her feet. She put a bit of pressure on her leg and winced. It wasn’t awful, but it wasn’t easy to walk on either.

“I can walk on it,” She muttered, leaning heavily against his shoulder. He adjusted his arm underneath her, and swept her feet up with the other, “Jon!” She protested. They were in the middle of the street.

“You clearly can’t walk on it, so I’ll have to carry you back to the inn,” He told her seriously, already strolling down the cobblestone path she had tripped over, ‘I guess this is karma for teasing me earlier,” He told her as he walked. From this angle, she had a good view of his strong jaw and his stubbled cheeks. He wasn’t looking at her, instead focusing on the path before him. She took the opportunity to admire the square cut of his jaw, the chiseled cheekbones, and the errant dark curls. He was beautiful.

“Are you listening?” He questioned, looking down at her with sparkling grey eyes. They were alight with happiness, and something more, something almost primal. It made her heart beat faster and her cheeks flushed.

“Can’t say that I was,” She murmured, reaching her hand up to smooth her thumb over the line of his jaw, towards his cheekbone, “I love your bone structure,” She found herself saying, wincing as she realized how strange that sounded. Jon laughed though, his chest vibrating.

“Is that all you love about me? My fantastic bone structure?” He questioned through laughter as they got closer and closer to their inn. She could recognize the village square they were in now.

“No” She told him, smiling as her hands went towards his dark locks, tangling in them gently, “I love your unruly curls, and your stormy grey eyes,” She whispered.

“A bit materialistic there, aren’t you?” He teased, shuffling her weight to one arm so that he could open the door to the inn.

“Hmm, what else do I love about you?” She murmured, “Your laugh, I suppose. It’s a deep laugh, but warm, never malicious,”

“My looks and my laugh” He chuckled as he began climbing the stairs to their room, “Anything else?”

“Many, many more things” She replied honestly, “You’re polite, a perfect gentleman. You hold doors open and walk on the outer edges of sidewalks. You’re loyal and protective. You’re selfless. You’re kind to everyone. You don’t get jealous about anything. You’re patient. You’re rubbish at cooking and you can’t sing a note for your life, but it’s endearing,” She listed a few of her favorite things about him, “Shall I write you a list of all the rest?” She questioned, smiling up at him. They had stopped outside their door. He was watching her with an impossibly tender look upon his face. He hiked her up closer to him, and leaned down, pressing his lips against hers passionately.

He broke away a few minutes later, leaving her breathless.

“Do you want to know what I love about you?” He questioned. She nodded once, still too breathless to speak, “You. I love you, all of you,” He told her. She smiled even as the tears rose up. Smiled against his lips as she pulled him back down to kiss her. He managed to unlock the door, and they tumbled in, still lip locked. She ended up pressed against their closed door, being half supported by Jon, his hands under her arse and her legs wrapped around him. She could feel him against her, hard and hot. She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips as he shifted his position, rubbing against her in the perfect place. He did it again.

“Jon” She moaned breathily as he smirked against her neck. He was peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses along her shoulder. She swiveled her own hips, making him moan this time. Two could play at that game, after all.

Jon was the better player though. She felt shivers of pleasure run through her body as he nipped at a particularly sensitive spot on her collarbone. She wanted him, badly, and wanted him now. Virginity be damned, her chances of making a good match were useless now, because the only match she wanted was sucking on her flushed skin.

“Jon” She tugged at his curls, forcing him to abandon his task at hand, and look at her. He looked at her a bit confused, and a bit resigned. She knew that he thought she would ask him to stop. She had stopped all other activities before getting this far in the past. But now she didn’t want him to stop, far from it. She just had to tell him first.

“Do you want me to stop?” He questioned quietly, letting her slide down from the door a fraction of a foot.

“No, far from it,” She murmured, tugging him closer with her arms around his neck, “I just wanted to say that I love you, too” She murmured. He grinned widely before his lips were against hers again.

They tumbled into their bed minutes later, her ankle all but forgotten.

Chapter 8 Chapter Text

Myr, Essos

August 15^th

She woke up when Jon did. She was pillowed against his chest, their legs tangled with each other. He was stroking his hand along her back, fingers tracing over the marks that marred her creamy skin.

“What are these from?” He questioned softly. She had seen all of his scars last night, and there were many from the war. He had seen hers as well, felt them at least. She was prepared though. She had a response already on the tip of her tongue for why she had the three scars.

“A bad mistake” She muttered, “When I was about sixteen or so, I went to a fair near the Gates of the Moon. My father told me not to go because those things were never safe. Long story short, a few cables snapped and I was in their way,”

“That must have been terrifying,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“The force of the blow knocked me over. I hit my head on the metal corner of the platform and blacked out. When I woke up, I was so doped up with pain meds that I couldn’t feel my toes,” She didn’t lie about that. She did pass out from the pain.

“Still scary,”

“I hope you won’t mind that I’ll never go to a carnival or amusem*nt park ever again,” She added with a smile.

“Not at all,” He agreed with her, tugging her up so that he could kiss her properly. She lost herself in it, letting the feeling of his skin against hers lull her into a sense of security, of love.

---------------

They ended up spending another week in Myr, mostly in the comfort of their room at the inn.. When they finally managed to pull themselves away from each other, they decided that Pentos would be the next stop in their grand adventure. Before they left, she wrote to Rosie once more, this time without telling Jon.

Dear Rosie,

Myr is utterly gorgeous. Everything is hand crafted and beautiful beyond words. I’ve sent you some Myrish dollies that I found in a shop that reminded me of you. Jon and I loved our time here, and hope to return at some point. I write this alone as Jon would surely mock me in good nature over being such a girl about this. He told me that he loved me as he carried me back to our hotel room after I sprained my ankle. It was perfect in it’s honest simplicity, and I told him that I loved him back, because I truly do. I can’t imagine spending my life without him at this point, it’s thrilling and terrifying. I’ll try to call you from Pentos, but we haven’t figured out international calling yet. I miss you terribly,

Love Alayne.

P.S. Jon sends his regards and love.”

When they arrive in Pentos, she was amazed at the villas and the gaudy rich men that walk around in garish gold and silver adornments. It by far the most populous city they’ve visited so far, and the richest by the looks of it.

They spend the first day enjoying their hotel and each other. The rail had taken a full day to get from Myr to Pentos. They were tired and horny, as Jon so eloquently put it. She had no problem with staying in.

The next day they went to the Red Temple and the surrounding bazaars. They bought traditional Pentoshi clothing, including a gauzy jewel toned dress for her, and airy lightweight pants for him.

One the third day, he threw her for a complete loop. They’re lounging in bed together, naked under the thin white sheet that covers only half of them. Her head was pillowed against his chest, her fingers idly drawing patterns against it. His hand traced patterns against her bare back, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

“My aunt lives in Pentos” He told her out of the blue, “I think, at least,”

“Your Aunt? The one you kept in touch with?” She questioned, wondering if it was the Aunt he spoke so highly of.

“Yeah, Dany” He nodded, “I’d like you to meet her, if she’s here,”

“I’d love to” She murmured, elated that he wanted her to meet his favorite aunt, “You should call her,”

Two hours later, they’ve traveled into the heart of the city, to a little café that Jon has told his Aunt to meet them in. She’s a mess of nerves. She doesn’t want to mess this up. They got a table at the café, and sat, waiting for the Aunt to show up.

What she expected Jon’s aunt to look like is nothing close to what she actually looks like. She was expecting an older woman; someone like Jon, maybe the same dark curls or grey eyes. What she wasn’t expecting was a 5 foot 2, 90-pound girl that appeared to be the same age as them.

Dany, as she told her to call her, was younger then Jon by a few months. She was living in Essos with her husband, who was a Dothraki. Dothraki were the natives of Essos, known for their horse skills and plundering. Dany seemed nice though she had a rough edge about her.

At first, she was a tiny bit jealous; before she reminded herself that this was Jon’s aunt, not some ex. Dany was beautiful, in a distinctly foreign way. She wasn’t sure if her fashion was considered Dothraki or Pentoshi, but it worked for her. Her hair was plaited around her head, the silver colored strands contrasting against her tanned skin. Her eyes were wide and bright, a bluish color. Her lips were painted a bright red, like blood almost. It made her perfect white teeth stand out. She wore a gauzy dress that showed off the several tattoos she had. They all appeared to be tribal.

Despite the somewhat intimidating personality, she found herself genuinely liking Jon’s aunt. She was very sarcastic and down to earth. She regaled them with tales of her pilgrimages through the Vaes Dothrak during the summer months. Apparently in the winter, her husband and she stayed in Pentos. Dany was curious about her as well, asking all about her life back home. She lied as best as she could, trying to stick to things that involved Jon instead.

When the sun started to set and Dany announced that she had to get going, Jon stood and went to pay the check. Dany looked around, and then spoke lowly to her.

“I love my nephew much. He is one of the only members of my family that accepts the life I live. He has his faults, and when you discover them, I only ask that you hear him out,” She whispered.

“Faults?” She questions.

“You’ll understand some day, Alayne” She told her with a sad smile, ‘My brother was not always the best father to him. Jon’s mother died young, he resented Jon for that. And as for Jon’s siblings, they resented him as well,” She whispered, keeping an eye out for Jon, “He was expected to follow his father’s footsteps, be the perfect son. When he enlisted, my brother threatened to disown him,”

“Did he?”

“No, he changed his mind in the end, thought that the military would be a good move for his future career” Dany shook her head, “But then Jon came back from the war, and he was different. My brother didn’t like that, he expected him to come home and finally do what my brother wanted him to do. They fought again, and I don’t think they’ve seen each other for two years. I know that he loves his son, but my brother can be an ass sometimes. I’m just glad Jon found like you, Alayne,”

“I’m glad he found me as well,” She told her. Dany smiled and reached over, gripping her hand. She told her something in Dothraki. It sounded like a blessing of some sort, but she wasn’t sure the Dothraki even did that.

Jon returned then, smiling as he looked between the two of them and their clasped hands. Dany broke up the spell, standing and hugging Jon tightly. She pulled her to her feet next, hugging her as well.

“I have to get to Drogo before he gets antsy” She told them, “Don’t be a stranger, nephew. Alayne, it was lovely to meet you,”

“You too” She murmured, watching as the tiny woman left the café, her long braid swinging behind her. She liked Dany. She was an interesting person.

“What were you two whispering about?” Jon questioned as the walked through town hand and hand.

“Nothing” She told him, rubbing her thumb against his knuckles, “Just girly things” He shook his head at her words, saying he didn’t want to know.

She couldn’t understand how his father didn’t see what a good man he was, or how he had even grown up to be the man he was if Dany’s words were true. Jon was so good, such a wonderful person. She hated that he hadn’t had a childhood filled with love and family, things every child deserves. She couldn’t imagine having her parents or siblings resent her. Even now they didn’t.

She may have left her own family like he had, but her parents hadn’t threatened disownment. She had never once doubted that her family loved her. She left because it as the smartest thing to do, for everyone involved. There was no point starting a war over it. Her parents, had they known the truth of Joffrey Lannister Baratheon, would have canceled her wedding in a second.

“Your Aunt told me about your father,” She admitted once they reached the inn and were safely sitting on their little balcony. It overlooked the rocky sea. It was calming and tranquil, “When was the last time you spoke to him?” She questioned quietly.

“The day I left for good” He replied, “About two years ago now. I had been discharged honorably, he thought it was time I start a real career. I wasn’t ready for that, wasn’t sure I’d ever be. So he gave me a choice, either do as he says, or never come back,”

“So you left,” She murmured, her heart aching. She tangled their hands together, resting them against his chest. He pulled them up, kissing her knuckles.

“Not immediately, no” He told her, “I lived with a friend for a few weeks, still in the capital. I got the job as a journalist for the paper at that point. They were looking for a traveling writer, so I took it. About a month after he told me to leave, I was in the Riverlands, writing a piece on the fishing industry,”

“I didn’t know you went there” She told him, “Where else did you go before the Reach?”

“I stayed awhile in the Riverlands, about a month. From there, I went to the Saltpans, did an expose on illegal fisheries. I then went to Old Arbor, did a piece on the resorts being built,” He told her, “I went through the capital again, got a few things from my brother, and said goodbye to him since he hadn’t been home for my first departure. I went south on his suggestion, hitting the Stormlands. I spent two months at Ship Breaker Bay. I liked it there. I spent a few weeks on the Sapphire Isles before I went and saw Summerhall again, this time without the school trip. I ended up in Horn Hill for about eight months, with a friend of mine from the military. He was having a tough time adjusting to regular life,” He murmured, “I left after he got married, wandered through the Reach. Eventually I found myself in Old Oak’s, falling for Rosie’s coffee and the pretty blue eyed girl behind the counter,” He finished. She looked up to find him grinning down at her.

“And here I thought Della had brown eyes” She teased. He chuckled and pulled her closer to him, kissing her forehead fondly.

“So, that’s my sordid tale. Now it’s your turn, when was the last time you spoke to your family?” He had asked her a few times why she hadn’t spoken with her sister in awhile, but she usually hedged. She hadn’t wanted to interrupt Arya’s new life.

“I haven’t spoken to my parents or my little brother’s since I left,” She admitted, “My sister got married a few months ago, I think it was when we were in Lys. I don’t want to interrupt her honeymoon. They were spending a month somewhere, I don’t think they knew for sure where,”

“Your younger sister, yes?”

“She’s 21, her husband is your age. He’s a good man,” She told him softly, thinking of Arya and Gendry. She hadn’t even seen photos yet, too afraid to check international news stations or the magazines, “When I went to the Westerlands before we left, I was supposed to be meeting my sister, but she sent my older brother instead. I hadn’t seen him since I left, so that was nice,”

“You miss them,”

“Of course I miss them” She murmured, “But I don’t miss that life. I love you and I love our life over here. I love all of it. And maybe someday we’ll go back, face out demons. But for now, we should enjoy it, enjoy all of it,”

And so they did.

Chapter 9 Chapter Text

Myr, Essos

April 22^nd

She had never planned on telling him about Joffrey. She had come to terms with that part of her past, buried it, and moved on, or so she thought. She never thought it come up.

They’re back in Myr about ten months into their journey abroad. Last month they had celebrated their year anniversary. Life was good, it was fantastic, perfect even. They were living freely and loving every second of it. They had spent two weeks riding through the deserts with Dany and her husband, who turned out to basically be the leader of the Dothraki. They went kayaking through the Rhoynar, and survived. They went parasailing in Volantis, and deep sea diving off the coast of Braavos. They climbed to the top of the bell towers in Norvos, and visited the great pyramids of Meereen.

They looped back to Myr to celebrate their one-year anniversary, in the place where they first said their “I love you’s” and ended up staying there for an entire month. It was one of the few places that still amazed them, still had so much to see. She feared that they would never see it all.

She was putting on mascara in the bathroom, getting ready for dinner, when he called out to her.

‘Have you seen my belt?” He questioned, poking his curly head into the bathroom, his eyes wandering up and down her frame.

“I think it’s in my suitcase,” She told him, focusing on the mascara wand even as he snuck in and kissed her wetly on the cheek, ‘Jon, you mess me up and it will take another hour before you get food,” She warned him. He grinned and held up his hands in surrender. She had him made.

“I’m going” He chuckled, leaving the bathroom to search for his belt. She knew it was packed in her suitcase, well the suitcase that originally been hers. They’ve mixed everything together now, her things with his and vice versa. They were careful not to accumulate too much, only the essentials, but it was still more then they set out with.

“Did you find it?” She questioned, finished with her mascara. She walked out of the bathroom to find him sitting on the bed, twirling something around in his hand, “Jon, did you find it?” She repeated, wondering what had gotten into him.

“Yeah” His voice sounded different, hollow, “And this,” He held it up between his thumb and first finger, holding it as if it might bite him. Her breath left her body as she stared at the offending piece of jewelry. She had forgotten all about. Robb had given it to her with the cash, along with another ring she pawned before they even left Westeros.

“Jon that isn’t what is looks like,” She told him, desperately trying to think of something, anything to say.

‘It looks like an engagement ring” He told her, his grey eyes finally meeting hers. They were hurt and angry and confused, “Is it?” He questions when she didn’t refute him.

“It was,” She answered. The ring glittered brightly in the light. It was just the engagement ring, so it wasn’t as gaudy as her wedding ring would have been. It was pure gold, mined from Casterly rock itself, and inlaid with three stone, two rubies and a priceless golden diamond. She had loved it in the beginning, but now all she saw was how truly hideous it was.

“You were engaged,” He stated. It wasn’t a question.

“I was” She nodded, “It doesn’t mean anything, Jon. I was going to pawn it if we had to. I forgot it was even in my bag,”

“You didn’t think it was something you should have told me?” He questioned lightly. His undertone gave him away though. He was angry. She could always tell when someone was angry.

“Please don’t be mad,” She whispered. So far she and Jon had had a pretty amicable relationship. They fought over silly things, just to make the make up sex better. They fought over where to go and how late to stay in bed, but nothing was ever this serious.

“Don’t be mad?” He questioned incredulously, “You had a fiancé you didn’t tell me about, and you don’t want me to be mad?” He stood, and she automatically took a step back. He gave her a strange look before dropping the ring on the bed. He then walked towards the door, causing her heart to falter.

“Where are you going?” She whispered, watching him grab his wallet and his keys. He didn’t grab anything else though, which was good.

“For a walk,” He muttered, “Alone” He added when she stepped forward.

“Jon” She pleaded, “Please,”

He left though, the door slamming shut behind him. She threw the wretched ring at the wall, watching as it dented the paint. It clanged to the ground, rolling under the bed. Even now, Joffrey was still making her life difficult.

She grabbed her own key card and wallet, stuffing her feet into her flats instead of the heels she had planned on wearing. She left the room and headed towards the lobby, where a bored looking teen sat, flipping through a magazine.

“Do you know where I can make an international call?” She questioned. The teen looked up from the magazine, looking her over.

“The mart down the corner has cells and international cards, they’ll explain how to use them,” She told her in a thick Myrish accent, “That your man that just stormed out of here?” She questioned.

“Depends. Which why did he go?” She asked. After she took care of the phone call, she would track Jon down.

“He gave me a fiver to not tell you,’ The girl admitted, “Don’t think he wants you to know which way he went,”

“I’ll give you a ten piece,” She told her, fishing the coin out of her purse. She tossed it on the counter.

“He headed towards town, mentioned the historical area,” The girl told her, “He looked angry,”

“He was angry” She retorted. She had no idea why Jon would be heading for the historical area though. Everything would be closed in that area at this time of night, “Thank you,” She told her as she left. She hurried down to the mart, which was only a block away. An older, sleazy looking man sat behind the counter, watching his little black and white television.

“I need to make an international call,” She told him, “Can you help me?”

Ten minutes later, and a decent sum spent, she was sitting outside the mart, dialing Arya’s cell phone number. She felt terrible. She hadn’t spoken to Arya since she left the Reach, nor had she spoken to Robb. She wondered if Arya would even pick up.

‘Hello?” A gruff, male voice answered the phone. She was confused for a moment before she realized that it had to be Gendry.

“Gendry?” She questioned, clarifying just encase it wasn’t him.

“Yes, who is this?” He questioned.

“I need to speak to Arya” She told him, “It’s her sister,”

“Sansa, bloody hells” He cursed, “She hasn’t heard from you in like a year! She’s been worried sick,”

“I know, I know” She sighed, “And I’m really sorry, Gendry, but I didn’t want to interfere with your honeymoon, and then I just, I suppose I didn’t want to interfere with her new life. I mean, I was the reason you had to get married,’

“We wanted to get married, well I did. Arya didn’t want to get married ever. She wanted to elope in Braavos,” Gendry chuckled, “She’ll be ecstatic to hear from you,”

“I’ll be equally pleased to speak with her,” She murmured, ‘And Gendry, thank you,”

“For what?” He questioned a bit harshly, “For not hanging up the phone the second I realized it was you?”

“Well that too,” She told him, “But thank you for taking care of her, I know that you love her, and I’m very happy that you two found each other,”

“That means a lot, Sansa” Gendry murmured, harsh tone now gone “Hang on one second, I’ll grab Arya. She was just here a moment ago,”

She had to wait about five minutes for Gendry to track Arya down, and by then her minutes were dwindling. She had only bought a twenty-minute card, she was halfway through it now.

“Hello? Sansa?” Arya answered the phone, her voice soothing and familiar.

“Arya” She sighed, “Oh, it’s so good to hear your voice,”

“I could say the same about you, sister” Arya retorted tartly, “It’s been like a year, Sansa! What were you thinking?”

“I just wanted to give you a chance to live your life, without the burden of keeping my secret,”

“It was more of a burden to worry about you, sister” Arya scolded her, “Where are you, the reception is funny,”

“Essos still,” She told her, “I only have a few minutes left on the calling card. It’s near impossible to get these things over here and when you do, they never work properly,” She complained.

“I know, trust me. I was awful trying to keep in touch while we were in Braavos,” Arya told her, “Have you been there yet?”

“Yeah, we went a few weeks back. It was gorgeous. I can see why you love it so much, though it does sort of smell funky at points,” Low tide had been extreme in Braavos.

“Where else have you been?” Arya questioned, “Have you seen Volantis? Myr?”

“We’ve seen it all, and then some” She whispered, “It’s been amazing, sister. I love it all,”

“You sound sad though,” Arya commented, “Is everything alright?”

“Jon found the engagement ring that was included in the cash you sent before I left,” She told her, “He was so angry. He walked out,”

“Oh, Sansa” Arya murmured, “I’m sorry,”

“I just, I realized that that wasn’t even the biggest secret I was keeping from him, Arya. I mean, how is he going to react if I ever tell him whom I am? I don’t think he’d stay,”

“If he loves you, he will” Arya counseled, “Do you love him?”

“Of course I love him,” She answered, “That’s why I called you. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m in too deep now to ever tell him the truth,”

“You knew that in beginning, sister” Arya consoled her, “If he loves you, he’ll understand. If he doesn’t understand, it wasn’t meant to be. You deserve the best, and if he can’t accept you for you, then he isn’t the best. You should tell him about Joff though, without the details. Maybe it would help the both of you,”

“Is Gendry coaching you on what to say?” She questioned suspiciously.

“No” She answered too quickly, before breaking off into laughter, “Perhaps in an indirect way,”

“You two are very happy together, aren’t you?”

“We are. And thank you for the cloak. It was beautiful, far better then they one we had commissioned. Half of the kingdom is begging for the name of the seamstress that did it,” Arya told her quietly, “Will I see you soon?”

‘Maybe someday, sister” She answered, “How is everyone back home?”

“Father has finally admitted that you fled the North. It’s worse then when the Targaryen prince disappeared. They’re speculating of course, nothing good. He’s put a hefty reward on your safe return, but it’s just in the Kingdoms. He doesn’t know you left the continent. Mother’s in the Vale, Aunt Lysa had a breakdown and nearly threw a guard through the moon door,”

“Oh my god,”

“Yeah, she’s officially crazy” Arya sighed, “Robb’s fine. He’s in the Westerlands, patching things up still. Bran’s leg healed crooked, so he walks with a limp now. Rickon was sent to a boarding school in Skaggo’s for the unruly. He loves it. I’ve grown to tolerate the Stormlands. The beaches are amazing, but it’s so hot. Joff’s not here, thank the gods. Cersei is still a bitch, but Myrcella and Tommen are okay. Tommen is like Bran, Myrcella’s like you I suppose. I’ll teach her yet,”

“So much has changed,” She whispered, “I’m sorry I’m not around, sister,”

“We miss you,” Arya told her, “We all do,”

“I miss you all as well” She replied, “I better go, the time’s running down. I love you, sister,”

“Love you too,” Arya answered, “And don’t forget to call me in two we-” The line went dead and she sighed. She stowed the useless cell phone in her purse. She would buy another calling card when she could. She stood from the bench and headed towards the historical district, keeping an eye out for Jon.

She should have realized where he was. It was the same cobblestone path that she had twisted her ankle on all those months ago. He was sitting on a bench, staring up at the sky. It was a beautiful clear night, filled with all the stars. She sat down next to him. He didn’t acknowledge her.

“He was the son of my father’s best friend,” She murmured, hoping he was listening, “We started seeing each other at 16. Our families were elated. My father and his father were like brothers; they had grown up together in boarding school. They encouraged the match. At 18, he proposed with that ring, and I said yes. I went to college, graduated in three years, and then I went to live with him in the Westerlands,”

She remembered beings so happy to be finally living in the South. She was going to be the perfect Southern lady, just like Queen Cersei. She wanted nothing more in life at that point.

“The Vale and the West are very different. I changed everything about myself to fit in. I wore my hair like he wanted it, dressed in clothing his mother picked out, and slowly, I began to lose myself. About a month in things started to change. There wasn’t anything else for me to do to fit in, nothing for him to dictate, so he started getting angry. It was emotional abuse at first, and when he grew bored of that, it grew to be physical,” She whispered, remembering how terrified she had been the first time he hit her, the first time he broke a bone.

“Alayne, you don’t have to tell me all of this,” Jon spoke, startling her. His voice was soft, caring even, “I overreacted, I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,” She murmured. His hand reached out and engulfed hers, “But I’d like to tell you, if that’s alright,” He nodded, so she continued on with her depressing little tale.

“I lived with him in the West for 22 months before I finally saw my family again. 22 months is a long time to accept your future, to think about everything. At first, I was terrified, and I planned on leaving him. But then, he told me how no one would believe me, how it would kill my father and his father’s friendship. Lies and deceit that I fell for. I kept quiet. I didn’t want to ruin my family or my father. I didn’t want the shame. I began to think that maybe I deserved it. I had been a horrible, vapid teen. I thought it was payback,” She whispered, remembering how those 22 short months had been such a rollercoaster of emotion, “At points, he would go back to being the caring, perfect boyfriend he had always been, and I’d fall back in love with him. I thought that maybe I could change him, maybe it wasn’t his fault,”

She paused to take a breath. She hated how she still got teary eyed over the past, over Joffrey. It wasn’t fair that he still had this hold over her.

“Anyways, he had been putting off seeing my family, to keep me isolated. But we couldn’t skip this event,” It was her father’s birthday. They had no choice but to go, “So we went back to my childhood home, saw everyone, all of our families. They were so happy to see us together, asking about the wedding, hinting at future grandchildren. They were all so excited about it,”

“They didn’t notice? Your parents? His parents?” Jon murmured. At some point her head had fallen against his chest, his chin resting atop it. It was comforting.

“His mother knew, but the rest of them were blind to it,” She answered. She had hoped that her mother, or maybe her father or Robb would, but they hadn’t, “And then I forgot to lock my door one night, and my younger sister came in, looking for a jacket of hers that I had borrowed. She saw the bruises, the handprints on my ribs. I had a black eye under all the makeup I had caked on. The scars on my back, they’re from him,”

“They look like whip marks,” Jon murmured lowly.

“They are” She confirmed. She heard him swear as he tightened his grip around her. It wasn’t frightening like it was when Joffrey would do it. It was comforting and safe.

“When I yelled at you earlier you stepped away back, you looked afraid,”

“Instinct. I’m not afraid of you, Jon, never would I think that you would strike me,”

“I wouldn’t” He told her, “Gods, I am so sorry, Alayne,”

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t know because I didn’t tell you. It’s not something I’m proud of,”

“It isn’t your fault,” Jon told her quickly, “You don’t think that it’s your fault, do you?”

“I did, but I don’t anymore, I promise. It was all his fault. He was the one that was in the wrong. He was the one that wasn’t right in the head,”

“Good. Men like that are sick, vile creatures,” Jon whispered, ‘I’m sorry, I derailed your story,”

“It’s okay, I know where I left off. My sister was angry with what she saw. She wanted his head on a platter,” She and Arya had never gotten along at that point, but her sister had stepped up. She was incensed that Joff had done this, “She had just come home from a trip to Braavos. She was always so wild and free spirited. I asked her not to tell, and she promised that she wouldn’t, so long as I left him,”

“So that’s really why you ran away,” Jon guessed.

“Majority of the reason at least, I couldn’t find another option,” She whispered, “I left a letter to my parents telling them not to worry. My sister got me the tickets under a false name, and untraceable cash encase I needed it. She drove me to the railway, gave me a disposable phone, and off I went,”

“To Old Oaks,”

‘Not at first. I went to White Harbor. I researched where I wanted to go, knowing that it should be somewhere in the Reach” She whispered, “I have family in the Riverlands, in the North, in the Vale, in the Capital, they would have never guessed the Reach. I found Old Oaks, I found the help wanted ad for Rosie’s online, and when I got the job, I traveled South”

He was silent for a moment, and they sat peacefully. She had told him the truth about her past, as truthful as she could get at least.

“Thank you” He murmured, kissing the top of her head, “For telling me that,”

“You deserved the truth” She replied honestly, “I was afraid to tell you. He messed me up, Jon, and it’s taken awhile to find myself again. I didn’t want to fall back into that mess,”

“You don’t ever have to be afraid of telling me anything, or be afraid of me at all. I would never hurt you,” He murmured, “You can tell me anything at all. I love you, Alayne, nothing can change that,”

“I love you too,” She murmured, tipping her chin back so that their lips met. It was a sad kiss, on her part at least. She felt waves of guilt and grief as his words echoed in her head. I love you, Alayne. Alayne. He loved Alayne.

But Alayne wasn’t real, and for the first time since she became Alayne Stone, she regretted it. She realized how deep she had dug her own grave, and she feared that she would never get out.

Chapter 10 Chapter Text

May 29^th

“Dear Rosie,

We got engaged in Pentos last month. I should have written sooner, but we’ve been a bit distracted. It was all rather surprising though, I never saw it coming. Jon and I had a big row about my past. You see, I was engaged before I ended up in the Reach, and Jon found the old ring in my suitcase. It was meant to be pawned encase we needed the money. I hadn’t told Jon about my ex fiancé, because he hadn’t been the nicest of men. He was abusive and cruel, and I fled my home because of him. I was hiding when I wrote to you about the job, running away in the dead of night in fear of his wrath. Well, Jon found the ring, and I was forced to tell him the truth. I shouldn’t have feared his reaction. Jon is the best of men. He would have never held it against me, or hurt me like my fiancé had. Jon wouldn’t hurt a fly if he could help it.

We had been in Myr, celebrating our one-year, when he had found it. After explaining it, and some soul searching on both our parts, we headed towards Pentos. He surprised me with the ring. We were riding bicycles down the boardwalk in Pentos, when he stopped short. With my deficiency in riding bikes, I struggled to stop in time, and ended up crashing into him. Amid laughter on both of our parts, he pulled out the box. It was spontaneous and perfect. I, of course, said yes immediately. It is a beautiful ring. He told me that it was his mother’s, and that he had had his brother send it to him from home the day I first told him I loved him. He had been carrying it around for that long! It’s old, but I love it. It’s a platinum band with a circle diamond and several smaller ones. It reminds me of a snowflake. It’s elegant and classic. I haven’t taken it off yet. We have no set plans to marry soon, as we still have many more places to explore in Essos. Rest assured, you will be invited when the happy day comes.

Much love,

Alayne & Jon

After getting engaged in Myr, they looked around a few places in Essos in which to get married. Dany encouraged a Dothraki wedding, but they were both vehemently against that, though they didn’t tell her in those words. As they went from venue to venue, from church to temple to chapel, it became clear that what they wanted wasn’t in Essos anymore.

“I think that I want to get married in Westeros” She admitted to him one day after a particularly long tour of an old, ancient temple.

“Really?” He questioned in surprise, looking down at here, “Where in Westeros?”

“Maybe my home town,” She told him with a shrug, “Maybe the Reach. I just don’t think I want to be married over here in a language I can’t understand, with witnesses that we find on the streets,”

“You want your family there,” He guessed.

“I do and I don’t,” She answered.

“As long as you don’t say that in the wedding, you can have whatever you want, love,” He told her teasingly, “But I agree, I can’t picture us getting married here or anywhere else we’ve seen,”

“Then we’re in agreement,”

“It appears so,” He grinned, “Our grand adventure comes to end as we begin our boring adult lives as married people,” He told her. She laughed and smacked his arm.

“We will not be boring adults,” She told him, “We’re just moving our adventure over. We still have plenty of places to explore in Westeros,” She reminded him, “Maybe we can journey to the Summer Isles after our Westerosi journey,”

“Well, we will have to get all the traveling out of our systems before we have kids because dragging them through an airport is a nightmare. Remember that kid on our trip to Qohor?” She remembered the little brat quite well. The boy had no manners and the parents had none either.

Then she realized what Jon had said. That they would be having children, starting a family. She had wondered when they would talk about this. She wanted children. It appeared that he did too.

“And how many kids are we going to have?” She questioned. He realized what he had said when she spoke, the tips of his ears going pink as he grinned.

“Just a few, maybe six or seven,” She laughed as he said just a few and then gave her that number. She was one of five and he was one of three. She enjoyed having four siblings, but it had been chaotic at points.

“How about we settle at four?” She suggested.

“Eh, four’s alright I suppose, but five they could have their own basketball team,” He nudged her arm, laughing.

“Let’s focus on making it to the alter first, love” She told him, “We’ll have to name one after Rosie you realize,”

“Rosie is a nice name” He countered, “She’ll be over the moon,”

“Look at us, being all adult and discussing children,” She mused, “Maybe we really are getting boring in our old age,”

“We’ll have to get a mortgage soon, a little picket fence house and a golden retriever,” He joked.

Chapter 11 Chapter Text

It took longer then they planned to end their journey. Just about four months in fact. They had to see just one more thing each time, and then one more thing after. Finally, they realized that they were putting it off, so they bought tickets home in a fortnight’s time and promised each other that they would make it then. That day had finally come.

“Alayne!” Jon hollered up the inn steps, “Come on, or we’ll miss our flight!” She rolled her eyes as she walked calmly down the stairs. They had like, twenty minutes, to spare to get to the airport, which they could probably walk to.

“I’m here,” She grumbled, tossing her smaller bag on top of their suitcases. A full year and a half of living abroad, and they were finally heading back to the Kingdoms. He dutifully grabbed the suitcases, two of them, and her bag, rolling them outside to where the taxi was waiting.

“Did you get everything?” He questioned as he pulled the back door open for her. After almost two years together, he was still the perfect gentleman. They would celebrate their second year anniversary in a month.

“Yes, I got everything” She told him, laughing. He had been obsessively checking the bags and their room before they left. Unlike the past times where they left inns in Esso, they wouldn’t be nearby to collect anything they left there. They were heading back to the Kingdoms for a while, to start a new life there. Essos was great and all, but they didn’t want to settle down there. They both agreed that heading back to the Reach, was the best course of action now.

“Do you think Rosie will be surprised to see us?” She questioned as they pulled away from the inn. They sat in the back of the taxi, hands intertwined between them.

“I hope so,” He murmured, his thumb brushing over the stones of her engagement ring. She always grinned when he did. They were engaged. It was hard to even believe.

“I’m sad to leave,” She whispered as they drove out of the proper city. They were headed towards the airport, which was located outside the city perimeter. She watched as the sandstone buildings passed by her in a blur. She would miss it here.

“I am too,” He told her, “But I’m also happy to be going back to the Reach,” They had sent a deposit for a little cottage in Old Oaks. It was a cute little place, with a porch and a backyard. It would be home.

When they got to the airport, they had to rush. They were going to miss their flight just as Jon had predicted. They checked the bags quickly, racing towards the terminal. They were lucky that Essos was one of the laxest regions in the world when it came to security. They got through quickly and with no issue.

They left Essos on September 30^th at 9:30. The flight was only a couple of hours. They were landing in the Stormlands, then taking a train to Highgarden, then switching trains to head to Old Oaks.

“Are you awake?” She whispered, poking Jon’s arm, as the plane landed in Storm’s End Regional Airport.

“We here?” He mumbled, stretching his back and arms. He had slept for most of the three-hour flight. She didn’t blame him. They had left Essos early in the morning and Jon was a late sleeper. She looked out the window, watching as the rain drenched the world outside. She had missed the rain. Essos was such a dry nation.

“Mhmm” She stretched herself as he stood, allowing him to pull her to her feet. He had their carry on in his hands. They exited the small plane and headed towards luggage claim. They had awhile to wait for their plane to be unloaded, so they sat on some benches. Across the way, she could see the sigil of House Baratheon in the gift shop.

“I’m going to go get some gum. Want anything?” She questioned.

‘I’m good” He told her. He was still half asleep. She ruffled his curls with a grin before heading over to the gift shop. She grabbed some gum and snacks for the ride to the Reach before she spotted the magazine. She picked it up, smiling sadly as she looked upon her sister’s happy face.

“A Year in Review” The title read. It seemed to be a recap of the past year, because the New Year was currently three months away.

“Half off” The man behind the counter grunted, “It’s a bit old, found it in the back supplies,”

“I’ll take it then” She told him as he rung up the rest of her things. She grabbed the bag and headed back towards Jon. She tossed the bag onto his lap and propped open the magazine.

“Tabloids?” Jon questioned, resting his head against her shoulder. His eyes were closed.

“Catching up on the goings on,” She informed him. They had stayed away from homeland news while they were away, no news or papers to look over. He kept quiet, so she flipped through the magazine.

It was mostly Stormland events. Her sister and Gendry took up most of it, pictures of the two smiling at their wedding, riding horses on the beach, Arya being crowned princess of the Stormland’s, Myrcella’s sixteenth birthday, the death of Selyse Florent, Prince Stannis’s wife. Robert was only mentioned twice, and he was the king. The nation was clearly besotted with Arya and Gendry. She was glad. In the back, there was a spread on Joffrey though, and Princess Margaery. They lived in the Westerlands now, and he was heir to that nation, but he was still the son of King Robert. It showed a grand wedding, Cersei’s smiling face, and a grim faced Tywin Lannister. It was brief and vague. Cersei probably hated it.

On the last page she found herself staring at a picture of herself. It was her last royal portrait before she ran away. Looking at herself, she could see how awful she looked. Her blue eyes were dead, her smile was false, and her makeup was caked to cover the bruises. She looked like a wax doll, the curls atop her head too shiny, her tiara too heavy. She was drowning under it.

“The Strange and Mysterious Disappearance of Princess Sansa Stark,” The article title read. She skimmed through it as they speculated what had occurred. No one even suggested that it had been Joffrey’s fault. It varied between her having a secret lover, murdering someone, rebelling against her parents, and kidnapping from the Faceless Men.

She closed the magazine and tossed it in the trash next to her. A second later, the comm announced their luggage arrival on Belt C. She roused Jon from his catnap, and dragged him down the baggage claim area, searching for Belt C.

Once they had their luggage, they hailed a cab and headed towards the train station. They arrived just in time to board their train, and off they went.

“Where’s that magazine you got?” Jon questioned about an hour in. He was wide-awake now, and bored. He probably wanted to read it. She made a show of looking through her purse and the bag, pretending to think about it.

“I don’t know” She shrugged, “I must have left it in the cab or the airport” She told him, “It was dull anyways. Nothing happened while we were away. Unless you want to hear about Princess Margaery’s wedding, of course,”

“I think I’ll pass” Jon murmured, “Thanks the gods we got away from Rosie before that went down. I think she would have made us watch the entire ceremony with her,”

“She was throwing a tea party for it, with the fancy hats and all,” She reminded him, Rosie had sent them an invitation shortly before they left.

“It’ll be good to see her again”

“Mhmm” She agreed, resting her head against his shoulder.

‘Tired?” He questioned.

“A bit” She replied. She hadn’t slept on the plane, whereas he had. She wasn’t fond of flying. In the North, flights were rarely smooth going. The winds made them shaky and unreliable. She had never gotten use to it growing up.

“Sleep” Jon urged, “I’ll wake you when we get to Highgarden,”

She dozed off, dreaming of the first time she had gotten on a train with Jon, and fallen asleep against his shoulder. She dreamt of walking through Highgarden, through the maze of beautiful flowers. She dreamt of their little cottage a few blocks from the beach, and the work that they would have to put into it. She dreamt of their wedding, of her walking down the aisle in her white wedding gown, a bouquet of winter roses in her hand. In the dream, her father walked beside her. She dreamt of their future children, little girls with her auburn hair and his grey eyes, and little boys with unruly dark curls and bright blue eyes. She was dreaming of those future children when Jon shook her awake.

“Come on, love” He murmured, his hand warm against her arm, “We’re entering the station,” He told her quietly. It was midday in the Reach. Jon had wrapped his leather jacket around her while she slept, to keep her warm. Her thin U of VALE t-shirt was more equipped for Essos. The Reach was colder then Essos since it was winter in the Kingdoms. Jon had procured a sweatshirt from his suitcase anyways so she turned it around and stuck her hands through the oversized jacket. Jon shook his head, though he smiled at her.

“You’re giving it back later,” He warned her. She loved his jacket. She was always trying to steal it away from him. It was worn brown leather, comfortable as sin, and it smelt like him. He had told her it was a gift from the man that inspired him to go into the military, before he left.

“Mhmm” She nudged his shoulder, grabbing the carry on bag. He had the two suitcases. She offered to pull one of those but the carry on was lighter. She led them down the aisle of the train, and off. She checked the schedule above her, searching for their next train.

“Everything is delayed,” She murmured. It was strange, all the routes were delayed an hour and the station was nearly empty. Only a few passengers from the train they had just left were milling around, along with employees. They must have missed the notification for the delay, perhaps something had happened.

“We might as well go get something to eat then,” Jon murmured, “I’m starving,” As if on cue his stomach rumbled, causing her to laugh at him, her paranoia forgotten. They made their way to the ticket counter, and finagled to store their bags behind there for an hour while they waited.

Hand in hand they left the station, heading towards the little pub they had been to on their first date. As they walked down the pavilion, she noticed that it wasn’t as lively as it usually was. Her paranoia came back full force as she looked around.

“Are you okay?” Jon questioned.

“It’s so quiet,” She murmured, “It’s silly, but I just, I feel like something’s off, you know?” She had a gut feeling about it.

“I think you’re right,” He murmured, “Something’s wrong,”

She noticed movement in her peripheral. A group of people was making their way towards them, but she couldn’t make them out. As they got closer, she recognized the guns on their belts and the sigil patches on their arms. They were royal guards, her father’s if she had to guess. Before she could even speak, he was tugging her down an alley, and they were sprinting.

“Run” He urged, pulling her along faster through the back alleys of Highgarden center. He didn’t have to tell her twice. They ran until they both couldn’t breathe, leaning heavily against a shaded wall.

“I’m sorry,” They both stated at the exact same time. She met his own confused stare with a confused stare of his own.

“For what?” He questioned. His breath was ragged, but he was controlling it better then she was.

“I lied,” She whispered, “I’m so sorry, Jon. I’ve lied about it all, I never meant to hurt you, I swear,”

“Alayne, you’re not making sense,” He told her, shaking his head, “This is all my fault. I’m the one that lied to you,”

“Don’t even think about running, your Grace. There are more coming” A group of three guards had found them, “Your father has been looking everywhere for you,” She turned to Jon, blinking back tears as she anticipated the hurt, but he was glaring at the guards.

“I’m not going back,” He called to the guard that had spoken.

“Do not make this any harder for yourself, Jon” The guard warned, “Step away from the civilian and come with us,”

“She goes first. She has nothing to do with this”

“Your father will have questions for her,”

“She has nothing to do with it,” He yelled. She was beyond confused at this point. Why were they after Jon? “Either she leaves safely, or I’m not going with you,”

“Seize them both” She barely heard the order, but then it was chaos. Jon was pulling her towards away from it all, towards the main road. They never made it though; they were outnumbered 2 to 4. Jon’s hand was ripped out of hers as she screamed and struggled against the one pulling her away. A second later, a guard was holding her back, and she realized he was screaming as well, yelling her name.

“Let me go!” She fought against the guards, trying to remember the training she had had as a child, remember the weak spots Jory had shown her, “Jon! Run!” She screamed as she saw a guard pin him to the ground. There were more guards now, it was taking two to hold Jon to the ground, and even then they were struggling

“Don’t hurt her!” Jon was screaming back, bucking up against the guards, “Alayne!”

“Jon!” She managed to knee the guard in the groin and twist in his arms, grabbing his standard use Taser. He didn’t know what hit him. The other guard got an elbow to the face. Then she was free, sprinting towards Jon and the guards that held him.

“Alayne! No!” She watched as Jon’s face contorted in pain as he frantically tried to escape the guards that were holding him tightly.

She didn’t even feel the needle when a guard snuck up behind her, knocking her out. Her limbs went numb and her vision blurred as the ground rose up to meet her. She felt her eyes drift close, a pair of stormy grey eyes flashing before her as her world went dark.

Chapter 12 Chapter Text

She woke up feeling groggy and stiff. Her muscles ached like she had been lying in the same position for hours. She stretched out her limbs carefully, legs first, and then her arms, then back. Bones cracked as the joints popped into place. She looked around, realizing that she was in a cell. It was dark and cold, but it wasn’t a northern cell.

“Ah, you’re awake,’ A guard peeked into the cell, grinning at her.

“Where am I?”

“The Capital City,” She was in the Crownlands then.

“What do you want from me?” She questioned, pulling herself up into a sitting position, watching the guard carefully.

“From you?” The guard chuckled and shook his head, “Nothing. But you did taser a member of the royal guard. That’s a class E charge,”

“It was self defense, thus not a class E charge, B at max,” She answered primly, “But that doesn’t answer my question, why am I here? Why were the guards of the Crownlands in the Reach?”

“It will be explained in due time. For now, we have some questions for you,”

“Good, I have a few questions for your as well,” She replied, “First, who is we?”

“The Royal Guard” He answered as if it were obvious, “Are you going to come peacefully or will I need the leg shackles as well?” She realized that he was holding out handcuffs, no doubt for her. She shook her head, offering him her hands. He clasped them tightly. He led her out of the cell and down the white corridor. It had a sterile feeling. He led her into what appeared to be an interrogation room. There was an older man already there, a file spread out before him.

“Sit” The first guard, the younger of the two, ordered her, forcing her into a hard backed plastic chair.

“Alayne Stone” The other man spoke quietly. He had salt and pepper hair and black eye. He glanced briefly at her before going back to his files, “Are you aware of the charges before you?”

“Charges?” She questioned, “What charges?”

“You are being charged with assaulting two members of the royal guard,” He looked at her then, his black eye making more sense. She had elbowed him, “And resisting arrest, as so ordered by King Rhaegar Targaryen. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” She replied quickly, “What is this? Where is Jon?”

“The Prince is where he belongs, and it is none of your concern”

“The prince?” She gaped, wondering if she heard him correctly, “What prince?”

“Prince Jon” The man corrected in a monotone, “Moving on, as I was-”

“Jon isn’t a prince” She spoke over him, her brain confused and running a mile a minute as she sorted through everything.

“Oh, well this is awkward” The first guard, the younger one, muttered, “All you, Dayne,”

“Will you please just tell me what is going on?” She snapped.

“The man you were with is Prince Baelerion Targaryen, first of his name, son of King Rhaegar and Queen Lyanna, heir apparent to the Crownlands”

“No” She shook her head, refusing to believe it, “No, that can’t be,” There was no way in hell, or mathematics, that two runaway royals had somehow managed to find each other in the goddamn Reach, and keep it from each other. There was no way, none what so ever.

“It is, Miss Stone. I apologize for the shock; apparently Prince Jon kept that aspect of his life a secret. Now, as I was saying” The man droned on, but she was too overwhelmed to listen. Everything was running amuck in her brain, and she couldn’t keep up. She zoned out.

“Are we in agreement, Miss Stone?” The man shook the desk, startling her.

“In agreement to what?” She questioned.

“Were you listening?”

“My apologies, sir, but you did just tell me that my fiancé was a prince in hiding. Forgive me for being a bit surprised,” As if she was just remembering, she looked down to her left hand, panicking when the ring was not there, “Where is my ring?” She questioned.

“King Rhaegar has agreed to drop the charges of assault and resisting arrest if you agree to return to your home and never speak about the time you and the prince spent together,” The man told her, ignoring her question.

“I want to see Jon and I want my ring back,” She decided. She had to see him, at least once more. She knew him, or she thought she had, and she knew he would be in pain over deceiving her, and then leaving her alone with it. She had to tell him the truth though, because he wasn’t the only one doing the deceiving.

“Neither can be allowed. You will never see the prince again, Miss Stone, regardless of what you chose. The ring is also an heirloom of the royal family. It has been returned to the royal vaults. Be wise, take the offer and leave. Start anew someplace else,”

They were trying to strong arm her, threaten her with charges that had no chance of sticking, and silence her voice. She hated it, but she understood the tactics as well. She wasn’t about to take it though. She sat up straight and squared her shoulders, realizing that she still wore Jon’s leather jacket. It brought her a bit of comfort, and gave her the courage to acknowledge that Alayne Stone wasn’t going to get out of this, but Sansa Stark would.

“I want my councilman, as is my due right as a citizen of a foreign kingdom,” She told him instead. The guard sighed and shook his head. It was akin to asking for a lawyer. They had to find her councilman, which could take days, and then they had couldn’t ask her any further questions until the councilman arrived.

“You should have taken the deal, Miss Stone,” He told her, “Alert Councilman Redwyne”

“I am not a citizen of the Reach,” She told him, thanking the gods that she wasn’t. Redwyne was a fool.

“It’s on her shirt, old man,” The younger guard chuckled, “I will fetch Councilman Royce instead,”

“No, you will not,” She shook her head, “You will fetch Councilman Stark”

“You’re from the North?” The guard questioned, “You don’t look too northern to me, little girl,”

“Councilman Benjen Stark” She repeated, “And until he arrives, I think I’ll take a quick cat nap since I have nothing else to discuss with you,”

“Fetch Councilman Stark at once, and alert the King of her decision” The older guard advised as the younger one left quickly. She kept her head pillowed on her hands, trying to control her rapid breathing.

She was panicking a bit.

It took thirty minutes to find her uncle and bring him back to where she was being held. She was lucky he didn’t have anything major to do, or she would have been there a lot longer.

“What is the meaning of this? First I hear that the prince has been returned by force after a secret op mission and then your little protégée is knocking down my door to tell me that a Northern citizen is under Crownland arrest for attacking a guard during the prince’s capture. What the hell happened?”

“Stark, a pleasure as always” The first guard stated dryly, “She refused to speak any further until a representative from the North arrived, says she is from there,”

“Her last name is Stone, so I doubt it, and she has a U of Vale shirt on. Did you even bother to check her ID?” He uncle questioned.

“She had an impressive fake, and her finger prints are not in the system,” Ah, so they had found her fake passport and ID card. It was about time someone recognized it as a forgery. She would have to speak with her father on their security measures. As for her finger prints, those that belonged to royals were never public record. Only the North had access to her prints.

“Interesting. She the one that gave you that shiner, Dayne?” Her uncle chuckled. The guard did not answer out loud, “Might be she is from the North then. Now leave so that I can speak with her, alone, and ascertain what the hell is happening,”

“She’s feisty, Benjen, watch out for her” Dayne spoke. She heard the shuffling of feet, and then the door closed. She kept her head ducked though.

“Are we alone?” She questioned quietly.

“They’re gone, yes,”

“Can they see or hear us?”

“No” Her uncle spoke quietly, “It is against the law so long as a councilman is present. Now if you would not mind, Miss Stone, I would like to get to the bottom of this mess as quickly as possible,”

“Of course, it’s all very simple really,” She pulled her head up and smiled faintly at her uncle, watching as his eyes went wide in recognition, “It has been awhile, Uncle”

“Sansa?” He whispered quietly, “How in the world did you end up here? What happened to you?” She realized then that she was covered in little scrapes, her hair was a mess, and her shirt was stained underneath Jon’s baggy jacket. She looked a fright.

“I got arrested apparently, though to be fair, I did resist. I thought it would best if we kept that quiet. I don’t want a scandal emerging,” She explained. The last thing her father needed was to find out she had attacked Crownland guards, though she hadn’t known that at the time.

“Why though? Why were you in the Reach, and with Prince Baelerion of all people? I wasn’t aware you two even knew each other,’

“I don’t know Prince Baelerion, I know Jon” She answered, “We just both happened to be running from the same thing in the same town with aliases. I didn’t know he was a Targaryen, just as he is unaware that I am a Stark. It’s a long story uncle, it really is,”

Her uncle sat speechless as she regaled him with the rest of the story, including how she left the North in the first place, her trip to Essos, her engagement, and then their ultimate capture. By the end, he was sighing and holding her hand softly.

“We will have to inform your father that you are here and safe” He told her, “And then we will have to come clean to King Rhaegar and Prince Baelerion so that the charges can be cleared completely, and hopefully without scandal,”

“I was hoping that you would say that, uncle,” She told him, “May I ask, how mad is my father?”

“He isn’t mad, Sansa. He’s worried. Arya’s assurances that you’re fine only go so far, especially when she refuses to give him the cell number she reaches you on. You’ve been gone for nearly two years, and impossible to find. Trust me, I tried too. For all we knew, you could have been dead,”

“I knew she would report the general gist back to him” She replied sheepishly, “I just, I couldn’t stay. I needed to find myself. So perhaps we could inform father of everything after I come clean to Jon? Then I can flee the capital to see him in person,”

“Flee the capital?” Her uncle questioned, “I would think that you would want to stay here, with your fiancé” He made quotes around those words, chuckling at her, “Especially since your father and King Rhaegar will need to speak with one another regarding your engagement, and discuss any and all ramifications of having zero courtship and nearly two years of unsupervised contact,” He added.

“Nearly two years, in which I lied, Uncle Ben. I withheld the most crucial fact about me from him. He thinks he loves a girl named Alayne Stone, a simple girl from the Vale. I do not think an engagement is likely, especially since no one knew who we were or saw us together,”

“He lied to you too, Sansa” Her uncle pointed out, “And if what you say is true and no one can tie the two of you back together, then I am sure you can leave unattached, if you so wish. But speak with him first, after you’ve cleaned yourself up of course. Come, we’ll leave now”

Her uncle pulled her from the building with little resistance, promising that she would be kept in the Northern embassy overnight while she discussed her options thoroughly with him. As a councilman, they couldn’t stop him.

He brought her back to the embassy, where she had a room already waiting for her. She had stayed there once before, years ago. A few minutes after her uncle left, a maid appeared with a trunk of clothing, and instructions to look like the princess she was.

She showered quickly and washed the blood from her skin, wincing as the Taser burn was hit with water. It stung. She dried off quickly and put on her underwear before sitting at the vanity, allowing the maid to blow out her hair. It had been ages since she had someone do that for her.

As the maid dried and pulled on her reddish locks, she applied her makeup. Alayne Stone had worn minimal makeup, but Sansa Stark was a princess. She put on foundation, blush, concealer, eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara, and finally, light pink lipstick. She looked at her reflection, not quite recognizing the person before her. The maid secured the bronze sword tiara in her hair, the one that they kept on display downstairs. Apparently she needed it more then they did today.

She stepped into a light grey A-line dress. It was made of silk and fit tight to her willowy frame, an artifact from years ago. She was lucky it still fit. The maid passed her a pair of darker grey pumps. She slipped into them easily, despite not having worn them for months. A strand of pearls, a charcoal dress coat, and a direwolf pin later, she was ready to go.

“You look beautiful, Princess Stark,” The maid told her as she adjusted a loose strand of hair.

“Thank you” She told her quietly, “Where is Councilman Stark?”

“In his chambers. I can take you, if you’d like”

“I would like that, please” She replied, following the girl out of her new chambers and down the hall. He wasn’t far from her, just a wing over in the long-term chambers, instead of the royal chambers.

“Ah, you look just like my niece” Her uncle told her as he greeted her at the door, “Are you ready? King Rhaegar has graciously granted me a meeting to discuss the events that transpired today,”

“Will Jon be there?”

“Prince Baelerion, for now at least,” Her uncle corrected gently, “And I do not know,”

They left the Northern embassy through an underground garage so that no one would see her. It was imperative to keep her presence in the capital a secret until she found Jon and spoke with her father.

Luckily the Red Keep, the massive estate that the Targaryen’s ruled from, was quite close to the embassy. They were allowed entrance without a hitch, and then they were parking in another underground parking lot.

Her uncle stepped out first, offering her his hand. There were a few members of the royal Targaryen guard, and now, a few of the Stark guard. To their credit, no one questioned her presence with her uncle, at least of the Northern guards.

“I was unaware that you were bringing the princess, Stark, or that she had returned,” Someone spoke. She turned and met the cruel eyes of Prince Viserys. Her uncle had warned her about him. He had apparently deemed it important enough to meet her uncle at their arrival. King Rhaegar was probably too busy to handle it.

“Prince Viserys” She curtsied, “An honor”

“Princess Sansa,” Though his eyes were cold and calculating, he bowed perfectly, and kissed her hand. His lips were cold and slimy, nothing like his nephew’s.

“Where is your brother, the king?” Her uncle questioned as they were led through the maze that was the Red Keep. She had heard stories of the mad kings before them building an insane castle, but this was the first she had seen it. They turned at every section, at the drop of a pin. It was confusing and disorienting.

“My brother awaits you in the Hall, Stark” The prince answered.

“And Prince Baelerion?”

“My nephew is wallowing in self pity somewhere,” Viserys answered, “Is she your ploy, Stark? Get the northern talons in the Crownlands while my poor, naïve nephew is broken hearted over his little girlfriend and the loss of his brother?”

‘His brother?” She questioned, unable to stop herself.

‘Forgive my niece; she has been out of the loop for a few months. Prince Aegon was assassinated a fortnight ago,” Her uncle told her quietly. Her heart ached for Jon and the pain he had to be experiencing. She knew that he had been fond of his half brother. They had heard nary a word of Westeros while in Essos.

“My apologies, Princes Viserys. Please accept my sincere condolences for his loss,” She murmured.

“Keep your condolences for my nephew, princess,” Prince Viserys remarked with a scowl, “Any plan you have will be in vain however. My nephew is quite the celibate, Princess Stark. Even the wiles of Princess Margaery were in vain, and in that dress, you’ve nothing to offer,”

“Your candor is remarkable, Prince Viserys” She remarked dryly. Her sarcastic compliment made him go quiet and the rest of the walk was filled with an awkward silence.

Instead of going to the King’s private office, or solar as some of the royals still called them, they made their way towards the Throne Room. It seemed that the King was holding court.

“Deep breath, niece” Her uncle advised as they stepped before the grand door, waiting for the guards to announce them.

Chapter 13 Chapter Text

Prince Baelerion

“Your little girlfriend has requested a councilman, who is now requesting an audience with me,” His father told him tiredly as he watched him pace around the stupid throne room. If he were lucky, his feet would leave marks in the carpet, though that was petty to think, “Let us hope that your stunt doesn’t cause scandal, son,”

“My fiancé, father. I asked her to marry me, and she accepted. I still plan on marrying her. And as for a scandal, you best hope Councilman Royce has gained some tact in the years I’ve been absent, or this will be front page news,” He replied bitterly. Alayne had to be so hurt and confused, not to mention terrified. He didn’t blame her for asking for council. He only wished he could see her, to explain things, to apologize for his deceit.

“She did not request council from the Vale, but from the North, son” His father answered strangely. He stopped pacing at that, turning to look at his father in confusion.

“Alayne is from the Vale,” He told him shortly.

“Miss Stone told the guards that she was from the North, and asked for Councilman Stark. She is currently in the custody of the Northern embassy with Ben, Bael” His father told him slowly, “Perhaps she lied to you. The passport and ID card that she had on her were fake as well. Her finger prints were not found in any of the kingdoms,”

“No, she wouldn’t do that” He muttered in confusion. He knew Alayne had been running, but it couldn’t all be a lie, could it? He supposed he had lied to her, it would only be fair that she lied to him, “I was the one that lied to her,” He remarked bitterly.

“It is best not to dwell on the past, son” His father advised, “You will meet someone worthy of you and your title,”

“I don’t want the damn title,” He cursed, angrily gesturing at his father, “Viserys can have it for all that I care,”

“You know that Viserys can never inherit the crown, my son” His father admitted quietly, “And with your brother gone, you must take his position. He wouldn’t have wanted Viserys to have it. He would have wanted you,” He had just found out that his elder half brother had been assassinated publicly two and half weeks ago. It had left an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he hadn’t really accepted it yet. He was too busy worrying about Alayne and how she fared. He was worried that she was alone and hurt. He would mourn Aegon later, when he knew that Alayne was safe.

“Aegon was supposed to be King, not I,” He told him for what seemed like the hundredth time, “I was happy, father. Can you understand that?”

“Your brother is gone, Bael. He cannot be king from his grave. And I was happy once too, and look where that got your mother” He stiffened at the mention of his mother, “Sometimes you have to do what is good for the realm, over what is good for you, because in the long run, it’s safer for those around you. I would not wish the fate your mother suffered on anyone, and I doubt you would wish that for this girl,”

“I want to see her,” He decided, ignoring his father’s words, “If you are making me take this crown and rule our people, I want to see Alayne, to apologize,”

“I cannot allow that,” He answered with a heavy sigh, “You have caused the makings of a scandal. You had best hope we can contain it. Imagine the headlines, son. Wayward Prince lies about identity, seduces a commoner. It will be your mother and I all over again. I cannot allow it. It’s for her own safety, son, surely you can see that,”

“At least drop the charges against her, let Ben rely a message from me, anything,”

“The charges will be dropped when she agrees to keep this tryst quiet, and you may tell Councilman Stark whatever you please,”

“Your Graces,” A guard spoke, drawing their attention to them, “Prince Viserys, Councilman Benjen Stark, and Princess Sansa Stark have arrived”

“Princess Sansa?” His father questioned in confusion, “Are you sure, guard?”

“Yes, your Grace”

“Strange, she’s been missing nearly as long as you,” His father muttered, “Perhaps you will take a liking to her, son,” He rolled his eyes at his father like a moody teenager and crossed his arms. He climbed the steps to the throne and stood behind his father nonetheless, as was his duty. Viserys would tear him apart if he didn’t.

“I will act like the prodigal son in front of our honored guests, but do not mistake this for anything else” He told his father. The man just nodded, his silvery hair escaping the confines of his crown, not that he cared. He felt for his father, he knew that he and Aegon were incredibly close and that his murder must have destroyed a part of him. He was still angry though, angry that his father was still trying to make him someone he was not.

A second later, pounding was heard on the other side of the great door. The guards pulled it open slowly, allowing the party of guards and others to trickle in. He noted Viserys smug grin, Councilman Stark’s faint smile, and Princess Sansa’s ducked head. He felt his heart stutter in pain. The princess had hair quite similar to Alayne’s though it was coiffed and curled like the other woman of court.

“King Rhaegar, we thank you for taking the time to see us,” Councilman Stark spoke as they bowed, “May I present Princess Sansa of the North?” The girl stepped forward and curtsied.

“You are very welcome here, Princess” His father told her, graciously “I am honored to have a member of the Stark family my kingdom. I see that you have met my brother, Prince Viserys. Allow me introduce you to my son, and heir” He nearly groaned at his father’s subtle hint, “Prince Baelerion”

“I am afraid that we’ve met, your Grace” Princess Sansa looked up then and he was flabbergasted by her, by Alayne. Her blue eyes were worried, her lips downturned a bit. She was looking at him though, not his father, “Your Grace” She curtsied while looking at him.

“Alayne” Was the word that fell from his lips and she smiled faintly, shaking her head. He stepped forward, ignoring whatever his father said. He didn’t stop until he was right in front of her, looking into her blue eyes, “Alayne?”

She said something but he didn’t even catch her words, he was fixated on the cut above her eye, no doubt from the guards that detained them. He reached up slowly, mindful of the heavy looking tiara atop her head. She smiled and covered his hand with her own.

“Are you hurt?” He questioned.

“I am not, no” She replied, “Are you?”

“Confused” He answered.

“As am I, Princess Stark. You obviously know my son quite well,”

“My apologies, King Rhaegar, I am being quite rude. I am afraid that your son and I had the same idea, your Grace. By astronomical coincidence, we both ended up hiding out in the Reach together,”

“You are the one that was found with my son, Princess Stark?” His father questioned in a low, quiet voice. He knew that voice though he only heard it a handful of times. His father was surprised, how novel.

“I was, your Grace” Alayne, no Sansa, answered, “And then I was detained, drugged, imprisoned, and interrogated. I must say, I never expected my first trip to the Crownlands to be so interesting. I would advise your guard to work on their welcoming demeanor, your Grace,” She quipped, making light of a serious situation.

“You put her in a cell?” He questioned, turning to face his father, “What harm was she possibly capable of?”

“You, of course, have our sincerest apologies, princess” His father answered quickly, calmly even, “We were unaware of your identity and with the Crownlands in such a delicate state, extreme measures were granted to secure the homecoming of my youngest,”

“I am deeply sorry for your loss, your Grace. I do understand it,” The Princess, his Alayne, murmured, gripping his hand, “All will be forgiven and forgotten in exchange for a moment of privacy with your son,”

“I am afraid that I must insist on a chaperone, princess” Councilman Stark interrupted.

“As you stated earlier, Councilman, we have had nearly two years of time together chaperoned by no one but ourselves. What harm could fifteen minutes possibly do?” Alayne, no Sansa, told him poignantly.

“I must insist, Sansa” Benjen repeated lowly, “As I am sure King Rhaegar would as well,”

“That is correct,” His father answered, nodding.

“I will volunteer to chaperone and guard the two, Councilman Stark” One of the Northern guards stepped forward to the councilman, who nodded.

“I can agree to that” Ben replied, “Your Grace?”

“It is only right that a Northern guard protect the Northern princess” His father replied, “You may have a half of an hour in the gardens while Councilman Stark and I discuss where to go from here,”

“Thank you, your Grace” The princess curtsied, reaching out to take his hand. It was the same hand he held hours before, but it was different. Her hand was softer from oils and lotions, and her nails had been painted a pale pink. He squeezed it gently, feeling relieved when she squeezed back.

“This way,” He led her out of the throne room and towards the gardens. They could speak in near private terms in that area. He led her through the corridors and towards the area; the guards outside pulling the doors open, exposing them to the warm breeze. She took a deep breath as she stepped outside, and then turned to the single guard that had left the castle proper with them.

“Thank you, Patrek,” She told him with a smile. The guard grinned and nodded, pulling a cell phone from his pocket before he turned and sat down against the castle wall.

“You have thirty minutes, princess,” Patrek told them though he was clearly not going to make a move to watch them properly.

“Is there somewhere we can sit and talk?” She questioned. He nodded and took her deeper into the overgrown gardens, watching as she took in all the different plants and flowers. He led her to his favorite reading spot as a child, and sat with her among the blue winter roses. They were oddly fitting.

“I’m sorry,” They both said at the exact same time. Her cheeks went pink as she nodded for him to continue, but he insisted. She smiled and sighed.

“I suppose introductions are needed first,” She whispered, “My name is Sansa Stark, daughter of King Eddard and Queen Catelyn, second in line to the Northern Crown,” She told him, holding out her hand again. He took it in his own and shook gently.

“Baelerion Targaryen, son of King Rhaegar and Lady Lyanna, heir to the Crownlands apparently,” He told her.

“Are you mad?” She questioned after they had formally introduced themselves.

“Are you?”

“Relieved actually,” She admitted.

“I am too, to be honest,” He told her, “I hated keeping it a secret from you,”

“As did I,” She told him, “But I suppose our reasons for doing so are alike, and therefore we are uniquely qualified to understand it. Everything I told you though, it was the truth. My favorite memories, color, food, siblings, I only changed what I had to. Everything else was real, Jon,” She flushed as she said his name, “Apologies, I suppose I will need to remember to call you Baelerion,”

“I would prefer that you call me Jon, actually. I usually go by my middle name with friends and family, save for my father who insists on calling me Bael,” He told him. She grinned and nodded.

“Good, because Baelerion is quite the name, Jon,” She laughed.

“Says the girl named Sansa. What sort of name is that?” He teased, feeling a bit lighter.

‘It’s a Northern name,” She told him, “Alayne was just a random name that my sister procured the fake ID with. If you wish, you may still call me that,”

“I think I like Sansa,” He told her honestly. It was a soft, feminine name. Looking at her now and knowing her name, it fit her in a strange way. Plus, he liked the way it rolled off of his tongue; “You look different though the same, if that makes sense,”

“They polished me,” She told him, “Scrubbed me clean and doused me with oils and makeup and glitter. I look like plastic, don’t I?”

“You look beautiful, you always look beautiful,” He told her, reaching out to take her hands again. This time he took the left hand with the right, and noticed a very distinct absence on her left hand. The ring was gone, “You’re not wearing the ring,” He stated, feeling a bit confused and hurt.

“It was removed during my brief stint behind bars,” She told him, with a wary grin, “You still wish to marry me though?”

“Of course,” He hadn’t even thought of not, even when he realized that she wasn’t really Alayne Stone. If anything, her being a princess made things easier, “If you’ll still have me,” He added. Perhaps she didn’t want him as a prince.

“Of course I do,” She answered quickly.

‘Good, because I love you, Sansa. Princess or not, I will always love you,” He promised. Tears filled her blue eyes as he spoke.

‘Say it again,” She begged of him. It took a second, but he understood. He had said her real name, Sansa.

‘I love you, Sansa,” He repeated. She smiled and laughed, a single tear tracking down her pale cheek.

“I love you too Jon, prince or not,” She told him, pressing her lips to his. He wrapped his hands around her waist and tugged her closer onto his lap. His fingers danced upwards, curling into her wavy hair. Her own fingers tangled in his curls, knocking his crown off. When it fell to the ground with a clang, they broke apart, panting. Her tiara was crooked, but still pinned to her hair. His was on the dirty ground. He chuckled as he picked it up, knocking the dirt from it.

“Here, let me,” She offered, taking it from him and securing it onto his head once again, “There you go,” She trailed her fingers down his face as she finished, smiling gently all the while.

“We’ll need to go back soon,” He whispered, holding her close. She rested her head atop his shoulder, playing with the sash across his chest. He hated wearing the crown and the sash and the fancy clothing. He longed for his jeans and flannel, “We’ve got lots to do now,”

“I know. I have to go home for a bit. I haven’t seen my family in ages,” She admitted quietly, “Not since I ran away,”

“Your ex, the fiancé that hurt you, he’s a royal isn’t he?” He vaguely could recall a story breaking about the Northern princess and a broken engagement, but he couldn’t call which royal she had been engaged too.

“Prince Joffrey,” She answered quietly, “A Lannister Baratheon,” She added. He remembered the boy now, the heir to the Westerlands though his father was king of the Stormlands. Gendry was the older brother, a good guy and once a friend.

“Prince Gendry’s younger brother,” He told her. She nodded.

“Prince Gendry is married to my younger sister, Arya. Do you know him well?”

“We were friends as children. I haven’t seen him since the war though,” He replied. Gendry had wanted to enlist as well, but hadn’t been able to due to some rare blood disorder. It had no effect on him, but the military was strict with who they took.

“Their marriage helped patch up things between the North and the West after my disappearance,” She told him quietly, “Now that Joffrey has married Princess Margaery of the Reach, they live in the Westerlands with his grandfather,”

“You’ll never have to see him again, Sansa,” He promised her, “And if you do, I won’t let him hurt you. I promise,”

‘I know you will,” She told him softly, her hand flitting back to his cheek, “And I am so sorry about your brother, Jon. I just heard what happened,” Her words were sincere and comforting. He felt a pang of grief as he realized that Aegon was truly gone. He placed his hand over hers, stroking her soft skin.

“Thank you,” He told her quietly.

“How are you?” She questioned, leaning closer to him in comfort.

“To be honest, I was informed yesterday when I woke up by my father. But I’ve been too busy worrying about where you were and if you were in pain or hurting that I didn’t allow myself to think about it,” He admitted, “It’s not quite real yet,”

“Whatever you need, Jon, I’m here” She promised him. He squeezed the hand beneath his and thanked her again.

“I’m glad that you are,” He told her, “I think that our minutes are up though, don’t you?”

“I think so too,” She murmured as the guard came into view, letting them know what they already knew. He stood and offered her his hand, pulling her up off of the bench. She smoothed down her grey dress and righted her tiara. He reached out and wiped the smudge of lipstick beneath her lips. She smiled and did the same for him.

“I don’t think your father would approve of your choice in lipstick,” She told him playfully as they walked back inside the castle.

“I think Ben would be more appalled,” He told her, “You don’t know this, but he was the one that made me enlist. He was best friends with my mother before her death,”

“I never knew that,” She admitted in awe, “Was she of the North?”

‘She was from Wintertown, just outside the capital I believe,”

“It’s the town that surrounds Winterfell,” Sansa told him, “Benjen is my uncle, my father’s younger brother. No doubt my father knew your mother as well,” He knew that Benjen was a part of the Stark family, but he had always thought he was a distant cousin or something. By rights, he was a prince. He had never heard anyone call him Prince Benjen though, not like they called Viserys a prince.

“I knew that he was related to the Stark’s of Winterfell, but I always imagined a distant relation, a cousin once removed or something,” He admitted, “He will surely have my head now for dishonoring his niece,”

“Benjen was always the black wolf of the family. When my Uncle Brandon and Grandfather perished in the rebellion years ago, my father stepped forward to keep the kingdom afloat. He threw himself into the job to silence his grief at losing his brother and father. Benjen was young, only 18 or so. He enlisted in the military to deal with his own grief, to avenge his brother and father. He never really came back to Winterfell. We only ever see him in the capital or the Riverlands, sometimes the Gift,” She explained, “It is not my uncle you need worry over, but my father,”

“I forgot about him,” He told her honestly as they got closer and closer to his father and her uncle, “I will have to ask for your hand now,” He pointed out.

“You already have it,’ She told him, “But if you insist, perhaps we can continue our travels and go North,”

“You want me to go with you?” He was surprised and flattered. He would finally get to meet her family. It was more intimidating now that he knew they were royals as well, but it was a big step.

“I’ve met your father, uncle, and Aunt already. It’s only fair” She told him, “I want you to meet them, Jon. And I would feel a lot less nervous if you were beside me in truth,” She told him, “If you can spare the time of course. With everything that has happened, I understand if you want to be with your family here,”

“You are my family, there is no one else I would rather be with” He told her, “And if you want me with you, then I’ll be there, always,” He promised.

Chapter 14 Chapter Text

He snuck out of the castle after feigning jet-lag. He wasn’t proud of it, but it had to be done. One of the guards was bribed, and he left just after the dinner hour. Sansa had left an hour before, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he missed her. His father and her uncle had basically agreed to keep them separated until an official announcement was made, which wouldn’t be done until her father spoke with his. They agreed that him going to the North would be wise, so he was set to leave on the morrow.

He got a good distance from the castle before hailing a cab to take him towards the embassies. The Northern one was located in the Northern district of the capital city. He had the cabbie drop him off a few blocks from the gates.

From there he walked the few blocks to the embassy. He approached the gate and spoke to the guard on duty, asking that Councilman Stark was alerted to his arrival. Fifteen minutes later, a cursing Benjen Stark was heard over the comm, allowing him entrance.

He met the irate looking man in the foyer. He wore sweatpants and a sweat stained shirt, clearly in the middle of his workout.

“Was wondering when you’d show up,” Benjen grumbled as he took in the sight of him, “You know, I’m happy that you found someone, Jon, but I really wish it wasn’t my niece that you just spent 18 months alone with in a foreign nation,”

“I’m sorry, Ben. I know that she is your niece, but I really do love her. I was hoping that you would see that and understand,” He told the older man. Ben had always been his mentor, his friend.

“You’re picking her over me, I understand that,” Ben grumbled, “I’m not stupid, I know what kids your age get up to, especially those that aren’t dictated by royal customs. You’re both consenting adults, and I respect that. However, I would ask that you two refrain from any compromising activities until you’re married. If word gets out, it will be her reputation, not yours, that is questioned. She doesn’t need her face in the tabloids any more then it already is,”

“I’ll respect that,” He told him seriously. He knew that it would be her reputation that would suffer, not his. It was always the female’s reputation, never the males. His mother had suffered the same fate with his father.

“Good. She’s upstairs, royal wing, gold suite. Tell the guard the word of the day is Moat Cailin, and if your father finds out, it wasn’t me,”

“Like father could ever hate you, Ben,” He told the man. Ben was the one that got his father through the death of his mother, even though he himself was mourning the loss of his best friend.

“Yeah, yeah, go on before I change my mind, Jon” He told him, “Keep it platonic or I’ll geld you myself,”

“I promise,” He told him, turning to head up the stairs.

“Jon, wait,” Benjen stopped him, “I’m sorry about Aegon. I knew that you two had been close,”

“Thank you, Ben,” He told him sincerely, “I have no doubt that you helped my father through his death as well, and for that I am thankful,”

“Try to cut him some slack, Jon. I know he doesn’t show it often, but he is so very proud of you. He’s in a tough position now. He knows that you don’t want the crown and he doesn’t want you to be forced into it, but Viserys cannot be King,”

“I know,” He told him with a resigned sigh. He knew that he had to take the crown or else he was signing the death warrant of his entire kingdom. He couldn’t do that.

“You’re smart, Jon, and a good man. I know you will make the right choice,”

Benjen left it at that, turning and leaving the foyer. He walked up the stairs, heading towards the royal wing. He knew the basic layout from visiting Benjen before when he was just a kid. He wondered if he had ever seen Sansa, come close to meeting her. It did not matter now. She was still his. He turned the corner, and sure enough there was a guard at the entrance to the next wing.

“Moat Cailin” He told him. The guard stepped aside wordlessly, and allowed him to pass. He continued down the hall until he saw the plaque that denoted the gold suite. It was written in gold lettering. He rapped twice on the door, but no one answered. Figuring he had walked in on her dozens of times before, he pushed the door open and entered.

‘Sansa?” He called, looking around the empty room. The balcony was open though, the breeze blowing the billowing curtains into the room. He heard the shower in the en suite, and turned to that door. He could hear her singing through the door. He grinned and decided to wait for her on her bed instead of startling her in the shower. He kicked off his shoes and jacket, and laid back on the comfortable bed, listening to her voice. She had never sung in Essos. She had a lovely voice, soft but strong.

He heard the water shut off and her singing continued. Seven minutes later, she was walking out of the bathroom in a robe, her dry hair piled in a bun on the top of her head. She hadn’t washed it apparently. She sang all the while, seemingly lost in her own world.

“You have a lovely voice,” He told her as she passed by him, not even noticing his presence. She startled at his voice but didn’t call out. She smiled widely when she saw him.

“Jon” She stated in surprise, “When did you get here?” She questioned as she riffled through the drawers of the chest in front of her, putting her backside on display to him.

“A few minutes ago,” He told her, “Around the time you started singing the Dornishman’s wife,” He added, laughing as her cheeks went pink. She tossed a rolled up bunch of socks at him.

“You should have joined me,’ She told him as she pulled clothing out of the drawer, finding whatever it was she had been looking for. She untied her robe and let it fall to the ground, barring herself to his gaze.

“You’ll be the death of me, Sansa,” He told her, enjoying the smile she gave at the sound of her true name. It made her face light up in a way he hadn’t seen before, “I promised your uncle I wouldn’t compromise your honor any further in exchange for seeing you without a chaperone,”

“My honor is already compromised though,” She told him as she slipped on a pair of thin lace underwear. They were navy blue, his favorite color on her.

“We are in the capital now, in the embassy building. If anyone were to see anything, it would be your reputation being questioned, your life thrust into the limelight,” He told her softly, “And your father and uncle would castrate me, no doubt,”

“Ah, selfless and selfish” Sansa teased, sitting next to him on the bed in just her underwear. He resisted the urge to reach out and stroke the soft skin he knew so well. She reached for him though, tugging at the bottom of his sweatshirt until he realized her intention and shrugged the lightweight fleece off. She tossed it over her naked chest, burrowing into the oversized warmth. It left him in just a t-shirt, but it was warm enough.

“Come here,” He tugged her up against him, where she curled into his side, her head against his chest. Her fingers intertwined with his and she sighed.

“You are far to honorable, Jon Snow,” She told him, “Where did you get the Snow part?” She questioned, realizing that it wasn’t his actual last name. He made no move to correct her though.

“My mother’s last name was Snow,” He told her, “Lyanna Snow,”

“Tell me about her, about your family” She whispered, “I confess I don’t know much about the Targaryen’s or the Crownlands. I was more focused on the Westerlands and the Stormlands,”

“My father was in an arranged marriage beforehand, to Princess Elia Martell of Dorne. She is the mother of my elder half sister, Rhaenys, and my half brother, Aegon,” He paused as he said that, clearing his throat as she stroked his cheek softly.

‘You don’t have to tell me about him if you don’t want to,” She murmured, kissing the hand wrapped up in her own.

“I want to” He told her, “Just, not now,”

“I understand,” She squeezed his hand, “Tell me about Rhaenys. I haven’t heard much about her at all in life,”

“Not much to tell. Rhaenys is eight years older then I. She married Prince Quentin of Dorne, her cousin. I haven’t spoken to her since I left for the war. You met Viserys of course, my esteemed uncle,”

“He’s quite interesting,” She commented.

“He’s not fit to rule, which is why my father hunted me down. Viserys would run the Crownlands to the ground, inflicting pain and misery. He hasn’t a drop of sympathy in him. He likes my father and tolerated Aegon, but he has a dislike for women and myself. I tend to ignore him, as I advise you to do as well,”

“I will take that into consideration,” She murmured, “He is so different then Dany,”

“Dany is the free spirited younger sister. She was quite ill as a child, and my father indulges her. He will deny it, but he is the one that arranged for her to go to Essos,” He told her, remembering the day she left, “Which brings me to the last remaining family member, my mother,” He sighed. He didn’t know where to begin the sordid tale.

Sansa gripped his hand in hers, urging him to continue.

“Elia died in childbirth from a condition known as placental previa. They hadn’t known about it until it was too late. They saved Aegon’s life, but she bled out. A few months after her death, my father organized a charity event to raise awareness for the condition,” He told her, “My mother was working at a catering company at the time, and was hired to work the event. A few weeks later, they’re dating and the scandal has hit the tabloids,” He sighed, “I’ve seen a few of them, and they’re quite nasty. They dug up everything about her. She was from the North, her parents had both died in the rebellion. She had lived in foster care until she got a scholarship to attend school in the Capital. She worked at the catering company to support herself. She wasn’t upper class or even middle class, and they tore her apart over it, calling her a gold digger and worse. They separated for a bit when it became too much, but eventually they got back together. They were married because she found out she was pregnant,”

“That’s awful,” Sansa murmured, pressing her lips to the bottom of his chin the only place she could reach without stretching too far.

“It was. It never really ended either, even after they married. I was eight when she died but I can still remember the coldness some had towards her. She did so much for the kingdom too. She was Queen longer then Elia, but no one ever forgot where she came from. It was one of the reasons I left actually. They never really accepted me either. Not even Rhaenys did. She was six when her mother died, she remembered her. She hated my mother, hated me,”

“No child deserves that, Jon” Sansa told him.

“I had a great childhood while my mother lived, don’t pity me too much. My father was a different man back then. He showed his affection easily. He played catch with us in the courtyard and took us to sporting games. I can remember him dancing around the empty ballroom with my mother. But when she died, a part of him died as well,”

“He loved her,”

“He did. And she loved him, just as she loved his children. She never gave us preferential treatment, even when Rhaenys called her all sorts of awful things, or Aegon told her that she wasn’t his mother,” The ending was the worst part of his tale. He hated to tell her such a sad thing, but he knew that he had to. He trusted her with the information, “The entirety of the Crownlands, my half siblings included, believe that she died from natural causes, another unforeseen tragedy in King Rhaegar’s love life,”

‘But she didn’t?”

“When I first enlisted, my father gave me a letter she had written to me, intended to be given on my 21^st birthday. With the war at the severity that it was, my father believed that I should know the truth. She hadn’t died of natural causes, she had killed herself and left a few suicide notes in her wake,”

“Oh, Jon” Sansa whispered, turning herself around so that she could wrap her arms around his neck, press her lips to his cheek, “I am so sorry,” She murmured, her voice muffled by his skin.

“It’s in the past,” He told her quietly, “I’ve grown to accept it, and in a strange way, understand it. Which is why we’re going to follow your uncle’s rules. I will not let them speak about you like that,”

‘Thank you,” She whispered, pressing her lips chastely to his for a few seconds before pulling away, “For telling me and protecting my honor,”

“Thank you for listening” He replied, “Now, enough sordid details of the Targaryen Dynasty. I want to hear about the Stark’s,”

“There isn’t much to tell,” She admitted.

‘Tell me about your parents, your siblings. I want to know what to expect when I meet them,”

“I’ll start with Rickon then. He’ll be the easiest to impress. He’s seven now, he was only five when I left. Last I heard he was at a boarding school in Skagos for polishing. He was quite wild as a toddler. He loved to bite things, though I hope he outgrew that,” She grinned as she described her brother. She clearly missed him.

‘And he’s the youngest?” He clarified

“He is” She nodded, “There’s Bran next. He’d be thirteen now. He broke his leg riding a horse last I spoke with Arya, it healed with a limp that he’s none too happy about. He was brilliant, probably still is,” She continued, “Next is Arya, who married Prince Gendry around the same time we left for Essos,”

“You keep in contact with her,”

‘She’s the only one that knows the truth about Joff, aside from you. We weren’t close as children, enemies really. I was a girly girl and she was tomboy. Gendry and she married for love, which is unheard of, of course,”

“We’ll be marrying for love,” He reminded her.

“I know” She grinned and kissed his cheek, “But it is uncommon, you admit,”

“Very uncommon,” He agreed, “And that leaves the heir to the North, your older brother, right?” He couldn’t remember the guys name though she had spoke of him before.

“Robb” She informed him, “He’s a typical older brother. He played the white knight to my princess when we were kids. There’s only a year between us, he’s a few weeks older then you. We were always close, until Joffrey came into the picture. I don’t know what’s up with him really. Last I heard he was patching things up in the West still,” She shrugged. She knew that Jon and Robb would be fast friends, “Which brings me to my parents. My mother will like you because you’re the heir to a kingdom. My father will like you because you are honorable and have a military background, two things that the Stark men value above all else,”

“Honor and military?” He questioned.

“My father was a soldier before the deaths of my uncle and grandfather. They were assassinated by wildings on their way to the Wall to see my father, who had been injured. My father was released when they died. My grandfather served during the First Wall War. My father and older uncle during the second, and as you know, Benjen served during the third, just as you did,”

“Let us hope that there isn’t a fourth,” He told her seriously. The Wall Wars were the worst. The North made up majority of the military based there, but a few came from the other kingdoms. The North was the only kingdom that bordered land not ruled by a sovereign king. The wildlings, as they nicknamed them, were nomadic people that had a penchant for fighting, pillaging villages, and murdering innocent kingdom citizens. They came as far south as the Riverlands and Vale sometimes, and a few had even made it into the Crownlands. They were a very real threat.

“We can only pray,” Sansa murmured, “My brother was part of the reserves. He’s colorblind apparently, so they denied him active service. He was devastated but I can’t help but think my parents were relieved. The third war was the worst, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” He knew firsthand how terrible it had been. He had lost countless friends in the bloody battles.

“You’re humble, he’ll appreciate that too,” She murmured, “I grew up knowing that above all else, that I was loved. There wasn’t a second of a day that I doubted it. My parents loved each other, they loved their children, and vice versa. It was always a loud and happy household. It was near perfect, actually, until I was betrothed to Joffrey,” He felt her shudder as she spoke. He couldn’t believe that anyone would ever want to hurt her. He would punch the blonde prick in the face if he ever saw him again, “But he did drive me away and to the Reach, where I met you, so I can’t complain,” She told him, “Besides, everyone knows that the Crownlands are a far better kingdom then the Westerlands. Although black and red don’t quite suit me,”

“Grey suits you,” He told her, recalling how beautiful she had looked earlier in the day, dressed in her houses colors, “You looked breathtaking earlier,”

“As did you,” She murmured, “I’ve never seen you so dressed up,”

“I hate it,” He admitted, “That sash itches and the pants are too stiff,”

“Try wearing a gown with a corset,” She challenged, “And then tell me about stiffness and itching,”

“I’m going to miss the freedom of living in Essos,” He told her as she snuggled further into his warmth. Her cold bare feet were pushing his pants up, pressing against his warm calves.

“I am too,” She admitted softly, “But we can always go back,”

“That we can, though it will probably be more difficult to lose the guards now,” He looked to the clock on her bedside table and sighed. It was getting late. They had a long day ahead of themselves tomorrow after all. She was headed North at sunrise to speak with her father. He would follow a few hours later to ask for her hand. They had decided not to waste any more time with it. Benjen had urged them to be swift as well, lest Ned get wind of her presence in the capital and storm down there, “You should try to sleep,”

“Stay with me,” She told him, closing her eyes.

“Always,” He promised, tucking back a strand of long red hair, caressing her smooth cheek. She looked so peaceful nested against him, so similar to their carefree days in Essos. Her hand was still bare, but he had procured the ring from the vaults. He would give it back to her tomorrow after securing her father’s approval.

“Love you,” She murmured against him, voice already drowsy.

“Love you too, Sansa,”

Chapter 15 Chapter Text

She looked up at the familiar iron gates and sighed. Beside her, Benjen sighed as well. They were both staring at the same scene before them. Neither had been to Winterfell in quite some time and both were dreading it.

“Home sweet home,” Benjen muttered as they drove through the gates and towards the entrance. No one had been alerted to her arrival yet, which was good. Most just thought Benjen was visiting, which is how she needed it to stay.

“Let’s get this over with,” She murmured as they car came to a halt outside of the front entrance. Guards stood watch while the driver came around to open the door to the town car. Benjen stepped out first, helping her out. She had her sunglasses on and a scarf around her hair, just encase. They walked into the castle without problem, heading towards the main hall. She removed her sunglasses and scarf as she went. At this time, her family would be awake and eating breakfast as they did every weekend morning.

The guard at the door nodded to her in greeting, his face showing the tiniest bit of surprise, before he opened the door and allowed her uncle and her to enter. The three sitting at the front table looked up in surprise, not having been alerted to their arrival. She watched as her mother dropped her spoon in surprise, but it was her father who spoke out.

‘Sansa” His voice was surprised to say the least, though it was nothing compared to the look of shock on his face. His hair had gotten grayer and his wrinkles had developed deeper, but he was still her father. He still wore his usual flannel pajamas for weekend breakfast, along with his dark green robe. His beard was still full and his hair still longer then most.

“Good morning, father” She greeted, smiling. He had stood from his spot and was walking briskly towards them. When he got in front of her, he reached out and tugged her towards him, hugging her wordlessly. She hugged back, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

“Sansa, good gods,” He murmured, holding her tightly even as her mother stood to hug her as well. She hadn’t aged a day. She still had long auburn hair plaited down the back. She still insisted on dressing for weekend breakfast.

“Ned, let her down,” Her mother told him. As soon as she did, her mother was hugging her tightly. She still smelt like salt and flowers. She always smelt like that. It was familiar and overwhelming.

“Benjen, where did you find her?”

‘It’s a long story, brother,” Benjen sighed, “I’m famished though, aren’t you Sansa? Why don’t we join you for breakfast,”

“Take a seat, I’ll have the cook start more pancakes, the lemon poppy ones you love, Sansa,” Her mother told her. She nodded and thanked her. She felt someone tugging on her skirt and looked down to find Rickon, who looked much taller and older then he had two years ago.

“Rickon” She smiled, picking him up in a bone-crushing hug. His sticky hands pulled on her hair, but she didn’t mind. She had missed her little wolf.

“Where did you go?” Rickon questioned as she put him back down on the ground.

“Everywhere,” She told him, “I went everywhere,”

“Come, sit. I think we are all quite curious to know where you’ve been for the past two years,” Her mother stated, just a hint of disapproval in her tone. She was angry, yes, but she was happy she was home as well. Her mother would question her in private later no doubt.

“I for one am curious to know how you evaded the guard for that long,” Her father told her, “Are you that talented at hiding or are they lacking in skills?” He questioned, lighting the mood of the room.

“I left the continent, father,” She told him honestly, “You searched Westeros but I wasn’t there,” He hadn’t started looking for her actively until she had left the Reach. He had allowed her that much time to be on her own before the search began, as Arya put it.

“You went to Essos?” Rickon questioned in excitement.

“I did,” She told him, “I went to Myr, Pentos, Braavos, Qohor, everywhere. I saw it all,”

“Not fair!” Rickon pouted, “Arya went to Braavos too!”

“When you are older you can go places as well,” She consoled her little brother, “Speaking of older, where are my other two brothers?” She questioned, noticing the lack of Bran and Robb at the breakfast table.

“Bran is in the Neck with the Reed’s and Robb is in the West doing some sort of charity event,” Her father told her, “He met a girl down there,”

“A commoner,” Her mother scoffed, “Do not encourage it, Ned, for heavens sake,”

“A commoner?” She questioned, intrigued, “From the West?”

“He fancies himself in love but he has to make a better match then that. The Princess Myrcella for one, to patch up the mess you made when you fled,” Her mother brought the claws out then. She knew that she would. Her mother was big on duty.

“Later, Cat. We just got her back, I don’t want her running off again tomorrow morning,” Her father sighed, “Tell us about Essos, princess,” Her father had always called her princess.

She told them the basics of Essos, leaving Jon out. She would bring that up later, when the guards and her little brother weren’t present. Her father seemed genuinely interested in her travels, while her mother kept a stony silence after her outburst. Her uncle even participated with the conversation, adding his own life details here and there. She had forgotten her uncle hadn’t seen her father for so long, longer then she in fact. They spoke of Arya and Bran, but Robb wasn’t brought up again.

After devouring a stack of lemon poppy seed pancakes, her father asked her to join him and her mother in his office to speak some more in private. Her uncle offered to take Rickon riding so that he might see the grounds again. Her father agreed, and they separated.

“Take a seat, Sansa,” Her father bade as they entered his office. Everything was as she remembered. It was strange to be back. Her mother took the seat next to her while her father sat behind his desk. He picked up a piece of wrinkled paper and sighed.

“Dear Dad and Mom,

By the time you read this, I will be gone. Do not be alarmed; I left on my own free will. I have to get away and find my own path in life. I apologize in advance for the problems this is sure to create between our family and the Lannister’s. I can only imagine the shame and disappointment this will cause you, but it had to be done. Know that I love you all and that I meant no harm. When I figure out what I’m looking for, I’ll return home. Until then, please don’t look for me. Much love, your daughter”

She had forgotten the exact words, but as he read them aloud, she realized how thoughtless and crass she had been. Of course they had worried about her. She disappeared in the middle of the night leaving only a note behind. She never wrote or called them, only spoke to Arya every few weeks.

“You left us in the middle of the night, Sansa, with just a letter. I think you owe us an explanation,” Her father told her seriously.

‘I woke up one morning and looked in the mirror, realizing that I didn’t recognize the person staring back at me,” She told him, nebulizing the truth. She didn’t know what she had become, yes, but that wasn’t why she had left. Her father didn’t need to know about Joffrey, not now, if ever, “I wasn’t happy. I had to get away,”

“You were happy though,” Her mother told her adamantly, “You were so happy about the engagement and living in the Westerlands. It was your fairytale coming to life. Your father’s birthday was that weekend. I remember how happy you were. That’s why it never made sense, Sansa. You were happy,”

“It’s easy to fake a smile, surely you know that mother,” She told her, raising her brow. Her mother had taught both Arya and she how to smile as young girls. Princess smiles, they called them.

“So you ran away. How?” Her father ignored her comment to her mother.

“I purchased a fake ID and passport. With enough money, it was easy. I went to the Reach first, laid low for a few months. Then I went abroad, then I came home,”

“That’s it?” Her father questioned.

“I traveled the globe, father. I saw people from every walk of life. It’s wasn’t just a quick vacation to sight see,” She informed him. She would tell them both more about it once Jon was here with her.

“I’m glad that you seem happy, Sansa, but your disappearance has caused quite the scandal. You nearly destroyed our relations with the Stormlands and Westerlands. You are lucky that Arya and Gendry were willing to marry to save us from war with the Lannister’s,’

“Not to mention ruining your chances of securing a suitable husband,” Her mother spoke over her father, “You threw away your life, Sansa. You quite possibly ruined your reputation completely. And now your chances of marrying someone worthy are slim,”

“You’re already planning on marrying me off again?” She questioned in surprise. She knew her mother lived to marry her children off to the most suitable bidder, but she was surprised Catelyn was thinking of that just hours after her return home.

“Since you broke your engagement with Joffrey, a new engagement will have to be brokered. You are a princess, not to mention second in line to the crown. If Robb is serious about this commoner, then we will have to ensure you make a decent match. But there is no one as eligible as Joffrey was, Sansa” Her mother told her, “You would have been Queen had you married him,”

“I never wanted to marry him just to be Queen, mother” She sighed, “I wanted to marry him because I loved him,”

“You left him too though,” Her mother pointed out, “You left him without a note or anything. He was devastated, Sansa,”

“I assure you that he was not as heartbroken as he appeared, mother,” She told her primly, “I loved Joffrey at one point, but it wasn’t meant to be. Joffrey and I hadn’t been in love for months. We both knew our duty though,” She lied about that part.

“Is that why you ran away then?” Her mother questioned, “Because you didn’t want to marry him?”

“No, mother, I told you why I ran away,” She sighed, “I just wanted to be happy. Is that so hard to understand?”

“Yes, it is, Sansa. You were raised better then to just run away, you are a princess, not some com-”

“Enough” Her father cut her mother off with a sigh. He looked so much older then he had when she had last seen him. He looked tired, exhausted even, “You said that you planned on returning when you found what you were looking for. Did you find it?” He questioned quietly.

“I did,” She nodded.

“And does it make you happy?”

“He does,” She told them, watching her mother’s face carefully. It drained of what little color it had as she processed the words. She heard her father’s quiet sigh though she imagined he already knew where this was headed.

“He?” Her mother repeated in a silent, serious tone. She was looking at her without blinking, her blue eyed gaze unnerving, “As in a boy?”

“Yes” She nodded again, “His name is Jon. I met him in the Reach, and we went to Essos together,”

“You spent a year and half with a strange boy?” Her mother questioned, sounding outraged, “Are you serious, Sansa?”

“Nearly two years, actually, and I am quite serious mother” She told her, bracing herself for the reactions that were about to come from her next words, “Serious enough for him to ask me to marry him and for me to say yes at least,”

She winced as her mother shrieked at her, her words blurring together in her angry. She merely weathered the storm though, waiting for her mother to calm or for her father to stop her. She went on and on about how she couldn’t marry a boy on her own, that a proper match had to be made, etc. Her father intervened when it became apparent that her mother wasn’t going to quiet down. He placed a heavy hand on his wife’s shoulder and she stopped, glaring at her husband.

“Say something, Ned” Her mother urged, “Tell her that she can’t just marry a random boy from the Reach,”

“He’s actually from the Crownlands,” She told them, “And he isn’t random. I’ve spent nearly two years with him. You’ll like him, dad, he was a Ranger in the Frostfangs,”

“A military man, Sansa? Honestly?” Her mother actually bemoaned that fact.

“A ranger, huh?” Her father questioned, “Benjen know him?”

“Rather well actually,” She nodded, “He served in the third war. He was directly stationed in the Frostfangs and has been declared a national hero. He’s a good man, I hope that you’ll see that when you meet him,”

“Meet him?” Her mother questioned, “And when, pray tell, are we going to meet him, Sansa?”

“Today” She answered, “He should arrive in a few hours,” Jon had promised to arrive by noon. She didn’t think she’d make it without him until then. Her father sighed yet again and picked up the walkie-talkie on his desk. She knew it kept him in touch with the guards.

“Jory?” Her father questioned, waiting for the head of security to buzz back.

“Sir?” She heard Jory’s muffled voice.

“Alert the front gate that we have a visitor due to arrive at noon. A man by the name of Jon. See to it that he is brought to my office immediately and discretely,”

“Copy that,” Jory replied. Her father placed the walkie-talkie on its charger and turned to her and her mother.

“I’m going to get dressed, Catelyn you’re going to come with me. Sansa, I will call for you when your friend arrives. Until then, go settle in to your room,”

“Yes, father” She nodded. He patted her shoulder as he walked past her out of the office, while her mother hung behind.

‘Don’t be angry, mother,” She begged of her. Her mother sighed.

“I’m not angry, Sansa, I’m disappointed. I just want what is best for you,” She told her with a wistful sigh. She caressed her cheek as she walked by, and then she was left alone in the office. She looked around at the familiar room, picking up a picture that was clearly taken at Arya’s wedding. She hadn’t seen any pictures before now.

Her beautiful sister was beaming at the camera, her long dark curls hung naturally around her sharp face. Those sharp features that were usually scowling or angry looked peaceful, nearly serene as she gazed up at the Baratheon heir, adoration and love visible in both sets of eyes. Her gown was simple in royal standards, a grey A-line satin creation that looked marvelous under her white and grey Stark cloak. She wore a new tiara, a Baratheon one instead of a Stark one. It was black instead of the gold Gendry wore atop his own head, though the stag antlers were easily distinguishable.

She took the picture with her as she left. If her father wanted another, he could easily procure one. She took the familiar steps to her old bedroom, taking in the sights that hadn’t changed in the slightest, though her perception of them had. The simplicity of Winterfell compared to the other royal homes across the kingdoms was well known. Instead of bemoaning the lack of opulent tapestries and priceless paintings, she took comfort in the ancient stonewalls with their tarnished silver sconces. She admired the infrequent landscapes of the Northern lands, and the simple tapestries that lined every other corridor. The fireplaces, seemingly random in their placing along the way, were comforting and homey. She had never realized how much she missed her home until she was walking down that last stretch of corridor before her bedroom.

A guard stood silently outside of the door, keeping watch now that she was home. He was young enough that she didn’t recognize him, though his stance and his demeanor spoke of a year or two in the guard. He had probably started just after she left, or even during the 18 months she had spent in the Westerlands.

“Hello,” She greeted as she approached the door. He opened it silently, as she knew he would, “What is your name?” She questioned, knowing that he would not ignore a direct question.

“Kyle Whitten, your Grace,” He told her in a steady voice. He had to be around her age, perhaps even younger.

“Please, call me Sansa,” She told him, “Are you to be my assigned guard?” She questioned as she stepped into her room. Her old guard had retired after she got engaged to Joffrey. She had then received a new guard, a Lannister one, by the name of Sandor Clegane. He was hideously scarred from the war and had a horrible temper. No doubt Joff had wanted to scare her, but the man had been strangely gentle with her. He was welcome company in her isolated days of past.

“I am, Princess Sansa,” It was better then being called “your grace” but it was still too formal, especially after being called Alayne for so long. It was strange to hear the words princess again.

“Then I look forward to getting to know you, Kyle,” She told sincerely, “And thank you,” She nodded towards the door.

“You’re welcome,” He replied, which was uncharacteristic of the guard. They usually just nodded briskly, maybe muttering something about it being their job. It was their job to protect them, not to hold open doors or run errands like some royals seemed to believe. Putting his or her lives at risk for someone was job enough.

After he shut the door quietly behind her, she turned to face her room. It hadn’t changed a bit though from the lack of dust and the slight lemon citrus scent, her mother had the maids clean it. Her bags that she had brought from the capital, after retrieving them from the Crownland guard, who had seized them at the train station, were placed near her bed. She went to those first, hauling the bigger one onto her bed, and unzipping it.

Jon had told the guard which bags were his and which were hers, but she knew that they both had articles of the others clothing in their bags. She pulled out one of his sweatshirts and sighed, inhaling his familiar scent. Only a few more hours and he would be here, she told herself. She pulled out what belonged to her and put it in her old closet. Rows of silk dresses, linen skirts, and grey toned clothing hung in perfect order. The tribal dress Dany had gifted her was a stark contrast to her modest, royal attire. Her worn in flip-flops and dirty sneakers joined polished leather pumps and flats. Her worn rut sack was placed next to her priceless designer handbags.

She folded most of Jon’s things neatly and tucked them safely in the back of her massive closet. The only thing she kept in her bedroom was the leather jacket she had been captured in. The guards hadn’t seized it nor had Jon asked for it back yet. She draped it over her vanity chair before sitting down before it.

Rows of expensive creams, powders, and liquids sat before her, unused for nearly two years. She picked up her favorite perfume and doused her wrist in it, inhaling the comforting scent of lemon and lavender. She had missed the perfume too. She had bought a cheap knockoff of it, but nothing beat this one. Vain as she tried not to be, she loved that perfume.

She touched a few things on her vanity, straightened them how she liked them, and then went to her bed. She hadn’t slept in it for ages, long before she ran away. Eighteen months in the Westerlands and two years abroad was a long time. She nestled into the pillows, the bright white and pink ones from her youth, and sighed. She felt safe in the bed. She would have felt safer had Jon been nestled amongst the childish ruffled bedding as well, but she would lure him in here soon enough. She grinned thinking about it, and then wondered when her mind had gotten so dirty.

Her phone chimed and she forgot that she even had it until then. Jon had snuck it in with him the night before, so that they could keep in touch with each other. It was a text from him.

“Just entered the Northern Kingdom,” That had been sent nearly 60 minutes ago. Another message popped up as she read the first one.

“Passing through Cerywn. Had to stop to get gas. The North is bigger then I imagined. How are things?”

“Not awful. They know about the engagement, but not about who you are. My mother is bemoaning the fact that I’ll never make a proper match now” She typed out.

“She’ll be pleasantly surprised then,” He replied a second later. He was probably still at the gas station otherwise she would have words with him about texting and driving.

“I want them to like you for you, Jon. I want them to see you how I see you. We can tell them about the crown later,”

“As you wish, princess ☺ ”

She chuckled at his stupid refusal to not call her princess. This morning when she had woken up, Jon had still been next to her in bed. He was sound asleep, but she knew that he had to leave soon to make it back to the castle in time. She had woken him up with a kiss, which turned into something more. When they finally broke away from each other he had grinned and said, “Good morning, princess,” She had slapped his naked chest, glaring at him. He only laughed harder and pulled her closer, laughing as he called her a feisty princess. From there he kept calling her that. When she yawned as he dressed he called her a sleepy princess, and when her stomach growled from hunger, he called her a hungry princess. As he left through the garage in a darkened car to obscure his identity, he said I love you, princess, kissing her sweetly before leaving her.

If Jon had just stopped at Cerywn, then he was close. It was only about a twenty-minute drive from there. Twenty minutes, and he would be back by her side. She closed out the text messages and went to the keypad to dial Arya’s number. She waited a few seconds for her sister to pick up.

“Hello?” It was Arya this time, not Gendry.

“Arya, it’s me,”

“Sansa, thank gods. You really have to start trying to call more often. I haven’t heard from you in a month. Where are you?”

“I am at Winterfell,” She told her, smiling as she heard Arya’s exclamation of surprise.

“Home? You went home?”

“Not on purpose, but here I am. Are you busy today or this week? I want to see you and your husband,’

“We’ll be there in a few hours,” Arya told her with a laugh, “We’re in the Vale now, heading towards the Neck to get Bran to surprise Robb for his birthday. It’s tomorrow encase you forget,”

“I know when Robb’s birthday is. I have a gift already picked out,” She told her. She was pretty sure it was in one of Jon’s suitcases in the capital, but she could just buy another, “I suppose I’ll see you soon then,”

“What about Jon, Sansa? Is he with you?”

“He will be soon,” She told her, “I’ll tell you everything when you get here, sister,”

“I look forward to it,” Arya told her, “See you soon, bye,”

She hung up the phone and slipped it into her night table. She didn’t want her mother or her father finding it encase things went south with Jon. She would need to keep in contact with him.

From there, she went to her closet and pulled out a simple grey linen dress. Jon had told her that he liked the grey on her, so she slipped out of her travel clothing and into the new clothing. She put on a pair of charcoal pumps and fixed her hair in the mirror, finishing just as a knock sounded against her door.

“Come in,” She called. Kyle opened the door but stayed in the hallway.

“Your father requests your presence, princess,” He told her stoically. She checked her bedside clock. It had been nearly 20 minutes since Jon’s text. He had to have arrived. Her heart raced.

“Of course,” She told him, spritzing herself with her perfume one more time before she followed him outside. He walked a few steps behind her as she traversed the hallways, walking at a clipped pace to get there sooner. There was only one guard outside her father’s office door; meaning Jon wasn’t there yet. With an unknown visitor, Jory would definitely be there, along with at least two others. Kyle joined the other guard as she entered her father’s office.

He sat behind his desk, dressed in a button up grey shirt and a black suit jacket. Her mother stood behind him, dressed in a matching grey shift instead of the casual clothes she had been wearing earlier. Both wore their crowns. She raised a brow at that.

“Are the crowns really necessary?” She questioned lightly.

“I want this young man to remember who he is speaking with,” Her mother told her, “Who he asked to marry him,”

“He didn’t know I was a princess when he asked, mother,” She admitted, “He only found out recently,”

“That must have been quite the shock,” Her father commented quietly.

“I love him and he loves me,” She told him, “A title won’t change that, father,”

“I am glad to hear that,” Her father told her, “Jory reported in a minute ago. They’ve reached the main castle,”

“You’ll like him father, I promise. Mother, please, just give him a chance, and try not to use the word commoner,”

“He will be given a fair chance, Sansa,” Her mother replied after a moment. Her father must have spoken with her. No doubt he was worried that she would disappear again. A second after she spoke, the guards knocked on the door. Her father bade them to enter. Jory walked alone, his eyes crinkling as he smiled briefly at her in greeting, before turning to her father.

‘He’s clear,” Jory reported.

“Good, send him in,” Her father told him.

“Of course, sir,”

Jory left and returned a second later, another guard and Jon with him. She smiled as he entered, his eyes finding her immediately, a small smile blooming across his solemn features. She was pleased to find that he looked even sexier in the black suit and grey shirt then he had in jeans and flannels. He had worn her house colors too.

She watched as her father opened his mouth to speak, but she stepped forward first, taking Jon’s hand in her own. He gripped back, giving her the courage to speak first.

“Mom, dad, this is Jon. Jon, these are my parents, King Eddard and Queen Catelyn,”

“It is an honor to meet you both,” Jon told them solemnly, bowing his head in a show of respect. He waited for her father to stand, to offer his hand in greeting, as was custom.

“The honor is ours, young man,” Her father stated, standing to shake Jon’s hand. Her father always said you could tell a lot about a man from his handshake. She hoped Jon knew that, “A good strong grip,” Her father commented. She nearly sighed.

“A mentor of mine once told me that you could tell a man’s true character from his handshake,” Jon told him. She had never heard him say that before, but she imagined it had been learned from Benjen.

“My father used to say the same thing,” Her father’s words confirmed her thoughts. She nearly rolled her eyes at Jon before remembering herself, “Please, take a seat. We have much to talk about apparently,”

“We do, your Grace,” Jon nodded. He waited until she sat before sitting next to her. She crossed her ankles and waited for the cross fire to begin.

“You’re from the Crownlands, but I can’t help but think you have the look of a Northerner,” Her father told him after a second of tense staring.

“My mother was born in Wintertown, your Grace. She went to university in the Crownlands, met my father there,” Jon told him.

“And what do they do for a living?” Her father questioned.

“My mother died when I was quite young, your Grace. My father is in politics,”

“I am sorry for your loss,” Her father replied sincerely, “And do you have any siblings?”

“My father was a widow when he met my mother,” Jon told him, “He had a daughter and a son. My elder sister lives in Dorne now and my brother recently passed away as well,”

“Again, my condolences” Her father replied.

“So, what do you do for a living, Jon?” Her mother questioned after an awkward silence.

“Currently I freelance as a journalist,” He told them.

“And in the past?”

“Here and there things,” He told her, “I graduated high school and joined the war. I spent two tours there before I finally went home, got my degree. I traveled a lot, saw the continent, and found a job writing about it,”

“And how long have you know my daughter?” Her father questioned.

“Twenty-three months, two weeks, and four days, your Grace” Jon answered.

“Five days,” She corrected.

“Five days then, your Grace” Jon conceded, smiling at her before turning back to her father, “We met at a coffee shop. I had been living in the Reach for a few weeks then and frequently visited the place. I was immediately besotted by the blue eyed beauty behind the counter the second I walked in,” If her parents were surprised by her job, they kept it quiet. Her mother simply nodded, a tight-lipped smile on her face. Her father was watching Jon closely, trying to figure him out.

“And you went abroad when?” He questioned.

“About five months into our relationship,” Jon answered, “We went to Dorne first for a few weeks, saw the sights, your Grace, and then left the continent,”

“And you toured your way across Essos?”

“We did, your Grace,”

“We didn’t just tour, father. We spent two weeks riding through the deserts with the Dothraki. We went kayaking down the Rhoynar and parasailing in Volantis. We went deep sea diving off the coast of Braavos, climbed the bell towers of Norvos and saw every single pyramid in Meereen. We went to museums and galleries, the beaches and the deserts. We saw it all,” She told him passionately, “It was life changing,”

“It was” Jon agreed with her, “It gives you a different outlook on life, your Graces. We saw all walks of it, rich, poor, enslaved, and the free,”

“You took my daughter to slaver’s bay?” Her father questioned sternly. It was the only region in the world that allowed slavery. It was sickening.

“I can’t say that I did, your Grace,” Jon murmured, looking at her with his brow raised.

“I dragged Jon to Slayer’s Bay” She admitted with a defeated sigh, “He did not wish for me to see that type of city, but I had to know if the rumors were true. And it was horrible father, just as you always told us it was,”

“You should have stopped her from going, young man,” Her mother told Jon. No doubt she was enraged that her precocious little princess had seen the truth of life. But it was she that had wanted to go, not Jon. He wanted to spare her the pain. And after, he had comforted her as she sobbed.

“I respect your daughter and the decisions that she makes on her own free will. She is an adult. If she says that she wants to go somewhere, far be it from I to restrain her from doing so, your Grace,” Jon answered diplomatically. She could nearly see the approval in her father’s eyes. He was beginning to accept Jon. Her mother was still glaring, as if she thought he should have restrained her.

“He is right, Catelyn. It was Sansa’s decision,” Her father told her mother after a brief pause, “I trust that you two never returned?”

“No, we stayed in the Free Cities from there on out, your Grace” Jon told him solemnly. She had vowed never to go there again.

“Do you know my daughters favorite color, Jon?” Her father questioned randomly.

“Dad” She groaned. He was going to go there it seemed. She had expected the twenty questions at some point. He wanted to make sure Jon actually knew her, and wasn’t just stringing her along for her title, money, land, etc.

“Blue, the same color as the Northern roses that grow in the glass gardens, the ones that she spent hours working on with her mother as a child, and the ones that her mother always plaited through her hair,” Jon told him.

“And her favorite food?”

“Lemons, any kind. Pastries, cakes, lemonade, lemon ice, she loves it all,” Jon told him, “It was rather amazing, and a little disgusting, to see all the types of lemon food she could find while we traveled,”

“Dad, please, this is embarrassing,”

“It’s alright, love,” Jon told her with a smile, “These are easier then recalling all the things we did in Essos,”

“Her favorite sibling?” Her father prompted.

“She doesn’t have one. Although she does have a particular soft spot for her youngest brother, Prince Rickon,”

“But don’t tell Rickon that I said that,” She added. She had forgotten she had told Jon that. It was ages ago, before she had even told him that she loved him.

“Her favorite song?”

“Jonquil and Florian,” Jon answered. She had told him that in the beginning as well, “Though she does sing a mean Dornishman’s Wife,”

“Jon” She hissed, glaring at him. To her surprise, her father chuckled, shaking his head. Her mother looked appalled though.

“My daughter has always had a beautiful voice. I am sure that she could make even the bawdiest ballad sound like music,” Her father said wistfully, “I was told that she had given up singing after moving to the Westerlands though. I am glad that she has decided to sing again,” She had stopped singing because there was nothing to sing about. Even as happy as she had been in Essos with Jon, the guilt and shame of lying had kept her from singing as well. The time in the shower was the first time in a long time. She just wished she hadn’t been struck with the urge to belt out the bawdy old jester’s song. Jon would surely tease her for ages, “Do you know what instrument she plays?”

“The piano” Jon replied easily, gazing at her quickly before turning back to her father, “I can also tell you that her favorite childhood memory is watching you write letters with your special steel pen. I can tell you that she missed having you brush out her hair every night like you did when she was a child. I can tell you that she regretted leaving as she did, and that she missed you every single day. I can tell you that she likes her eggs scrambled and puts lemon marmalade on her toast. She loves turkey bacon but hates turkey itself. She prefers white wine to red, and likes chocolate over vanilla. She likes lavender soap but lemon perfume. Her cheeks flush a pinkish red shade when she’s embarrassed and she plays with her hair when she’s nervous,” Jon listed off a dozen things in rapid succession. She watched her father as he listened intently, making sure it was right.

“Anything else?” Her father questioned when Jon took a breath to breathe.

“She’s intelligent and wise, witty and strong, and she’s kind to everyone she meets. She’s honest and brave. She’ll tell you that she isn’t, but she’s perfect in my eyes, your Grace. Every flaw and imperfection is just something more to love about her. And I do love her. I love her with my entire being, your Graces,’ Jon declared. She blinked away the tears at his little rant, reaching over her armchair to grab his hand as he reached for hers.

“Is that it?” Her father questioned after a second. They both stared, gaping at him, at his tone. It was blank and unaffected.

“Is that it? She questioned, “What do you mean is that it, father? What else is there?”

“I mean is there anything else you would like for me to know,” Her father clarified, looking at Jon. Jon was watching him carefully, his hand still twined with hers, “Anything else that you know about my daughter that I ought to know that you know?”

“Before you pass judgment on whether or not two consenting adults can be married you mean?” She retorted, a bit harshly even to her own ears.

“No, it’s okay, Sansa. You’re his daughter, and from what you’ve told me and what I can see with my own eyes, you two have an incredible bond. But there is one more thing because seeing the two of you, I can’t quite understand it. When I met her she couldn’t ride a bicycle, your Grace. I am dismayed as I say that despite many hours, scratches, bruises and tears, mostly on my part mind you, that she still is quite abysmal at it,” Jon told him seriously, “And I cannot for the life of me understand why she was not taught as a child. One of the first things my parents did together when my siblings and I were old enough, was teach us how to ride a bicycle, even though the narrow cobblestone paths in the capital made it highly impractical, just as the winter weather might,”

Her father took a second to answer. She had never told Jon about the efforts he had made to teach her, how every other sibling of hers knew how to ride one. She had just never learned.

“My daughter is incredibly skilled at many a thing. She can walk in those high heel death traps and she can ride a horse without problem. But she never could quite master the balance needed to ride a bicycle,” Her father told him, a nostalgic look on his face, “Bike after bike, none worked. I spent hours with her brother and her, trying to teach them. My son learned after about a week. Sansa never did, though she kept trying. Now, Catelyn, Sansa, dears, I believe I would like a word in private with Jon,”

“Of course, father,” She replied softly, standing from her position beside him. They were forced to let go of each other’s hands but Jon did press a quick, chaste kiss to her palm before relinquishing it back to her, “Play nice, boys,” She told them both as she followed her mother out, who hadn’t said a word.

“Sansa, dear, have Benjen join me would you?” Her father called as she was about to leave. She smiled and nodded, promising that she would find him before she left Jon alone with her father.