One of Sansa's hands was curled in his hair, while the other cupped his face. Late in her solar, away from the prying eyes and locked in such an intimate place, they didn't have to hide or pretend. For a moment, he wasn't the King in the North and she wasn't the lady of Winterfell, neither were two half-siblings ashamed of what their relationship had become. They were together and they were in love. It was enough.
"Sansa," Jon let out a small sound that resembled a growl into her neck, breathing in the scent of her perfume like it was the air he needed to live.
"Jon."
He held her around the waist with a touch as hot as fire, pulling her so close there was no space between them, but never giving in to the desire of doing more than that.
"Don't go," she whispered. "Stay with me."
. . .
"Sansa?" she felt a hand on top of hers and jumped in surprise, snapped out of her thoughts.
Podrick. It was Podrick.
"Are you feeling alright?" her husband asked, showing worry on his features.
No.
She shouldn't have invited Jon. He shouldn't have come, he shouldn't be around her anymore. He had left Winterfell and ignored her for ten years. Why was she still trying… She didn't even know what she was trying to do.
"Yes," she lied. "I'm just a bit nauseous."
Her husband shot her with a look that showed he was clearly not convinced, but the presence of the children and the maids who helped them feed Rickon and Theon was probably what kept him from saying anything.
"Is it because of the babe?" Robb asked.
Sansa offered her son him a small smile. Robb and Ned were growing up fast and smart and were excited with the possibility of a new sibling.
"It is, my love," she affirmed.
"Maester Wolkan said that sometimes the babe makes the mother nauseous or more tired when they are still in her belly," the boy said in an explanatory tone. "Did Aunt Arya feel like that with Serena too?"
His mother held back a chuckle. It would certainly be something new to see her sister pregnant. She was sad that she had lost such an opportunity.
Did Arya waddle? Sansa always waddled when she reached her final moons. Pod once even called her his duck.
"Probably," she decided. "You should ask her when you have the time."
When she turned to glance at Podrick, he was still looking at her, and Sansa forced herself to smile when he covered her hand with his and caressed her skin with his thumb.
The rest of the meal continued in silence, and when Maya and Sheylla left to clean and bathe the children, the couple was left alone for the first time since the arrivals in the morning.
"What is it?" he asked, reaching for her.
Sansa just took a deep breath, trying to ease herself onto her husband's touch, though it felt suddenly foreign.
"I'm nervous," she finally said, and it wasn't a full lie. "It's the first time since the battle that everyone is here together at the same time. Brienne is here, Sor Davos and his wife arrived yesterday, Bran and Tyrion, Arya and Gendry, and the Night's Watch…"
"And Jon," he added.
When Sansa looked up to his eyes, he didn't have the judging look she imagined he'd have. He was trying to understand her. It was as if he knew what she was trying to hide.
"Pod…"
"I know something happened before us," he said before she could defend herself. "Before Daenerys, I supposed."
'Did you bend the knee because of the North or because you love her?' she remembered herself saying.
Even after death, the Targaryen Queen came back to haunt her life.
"It pains you to see him here," Podrick whispered. "Why did you invite him?"
Sansa fell onto silence, unable to answer for a moment. He was right. Why invite him at all?
Because she had to.
"He's the only family I had for a long time," she told him, finally. "And he still left. And I still wanted him back more than I had ever wanted anything in my life."
She put a hand on her stomach, caressing the small bump to calm herself down.
. . .
"Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen," he said, and Sansa crossed her hands in front of her body, almost creating a protection for herself from the woman. "My sister, Sansa Stark. The Lady of Winterfell."
Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen. The daughter of the man who killed her uncle and grandfather, the woman who kept the only man she had even truly loved captive and could have stolen her from him so swiftly before she could even fight… And worse. The woman who wanted to take her home away from her family again.
" Thank you for inviting us to your home, Lady Stark," Queen Daenerys gave her a smile Sansa knew was just political. "The North is as beautiful as your brother claimed. And so are you."
Sansa knew better than to take her empty words and only glanced at Jon before nodding at the woman by his side. She's no Queen of mine.
" Winterfell is yours, Your Grace."
. . .
Her father had once promised her that when she was old enough, he'd make her a match with someone who was worthy of her. Someone brave, gentle and strong. For some time, she wondered if this would be Jon, but he wasn't that someone. He wasn't brave, or he wouldn't have ignored their past when she offered her royal pardon as soon as she was issued Queen in the North. Jon wasn't gentle, or he wouldn't have broken her heart the way he did. He wasn't strong, or he would have resisted temptation when it called for him far from home.
. . .
" We could have gotten her help in a different way, we could have convinced her," she pointed out. "You didn't need to give her the North, but you did. You didn't need to lay with her, but you did."
Jon closed his eyes.
" How did you know?" he lowered his head and his tone.
" You weren't going to tell me, were you?" she asked.
Jon reached out to hold her hand, but she pulled away from him.
" Don't touch me."
. . .
She closed her eyes.
"Pod…" she whispered.
Her husband didn't need other words to pull her into his arms, kissing her forehead and caressing her back as she cried onto his shoulder.
"I need to get through the day," Sansa decided after a moment, but Podrick held her back.
"You are the Queen. You can give yourself a moment to recompose, and you should do that now."
She sighed. He was right.
"Alright."