Chapter Text
…
Thirty. All is Well.
Once he gets more than enough of his fill of grass from the field they have been brought to, Dorren turns towards one of the men who’s watching over the grazing flocks of sheep that day.
Baa! Dorren calls out to him.
The man looks to him and gives him a smile, holding up his hand. “Go on then, Dorren!”
Baa! Dorren replies.
He turns and begins heading from the field in the direction of the Keep. He nudges one of his lambs affectionately in the bottom on his way and the lamb gives a baa to their father in response. Dorren continues on his way, trotting the familiar direction. Once he leaves the field and enters the Keep’s courtyard, there are people all around, going this way and coming from that way – all going about their own business, jobs, and duties. Many who he crosses says hello to him and Dorren gives them his Baa! as he heads inside. He turns to look behind him and make sure he’s not tracking in mud from outside. One time, he had done that and Kitty had threatened to beat his bottom – prized and beloved Ram to her Lady or not.
Dorren doesn’t scare easily, but he does feel a bit nervous while around Kitty, who takes the cleanliness of their home very seriously, and does his best to not get himself on her bad side.
He heads up the stairs to the second floor of the Keep and he goes down the familiar corridor, already able to smell his Lady and go towards her familiar rose-water scent. She’s in the youngest master’s chamber, the two-year-old in his mother’s arms, his head resting on her shoulder as Sansa rocks him gently and sings softly. She hears Dorren come into the room and she gives him a smile before returning attentions to her son.
Ethan is the oldest son at six and Robbie is the second oldest at two. There was a child to be born in between, but Sansa had lost it within the earliest months of her pregnancy and she and Jon made the decision to wait a bit longer until they tried for their next. The whole of the Gift sighed with relief when their Lady’s pregnancy was uncomplicated and Robert Snow was born, safe and healthy.
Dorren has heard Jon and Sansa talk that maybe it is time now to try for a third. They both know how much Sansa would love a daughter; the name, Arya, ready and waiting, but Jon has confessed that he’s scared. The entirety of her pregnancy with Robbie, he felt as if he hadn’t gotten any sleep, constantly worried that something would happen to his wife or unborn child.
“But I’m alright,” Sansa told her husband with a soft smile and a hand resting on his cheek. “And Sam is a brilliant maester who wouldn’t let harm come to me. If he thinks I’m ready for a third, and I think I’m ready for a third, aren’t we the two people you should listen to the most when it comes to this matter?”
Jon wrapped his arms around Sansa’s waist, pulling her in tight to him. “I wouldn’t survive if anything ever happened to you or any of our children,” he said; revealing it is as if it was some secret that Sansa – and everyone else in the Gift – didn’t already know.
Sansa smiled faintly and circled her arms around her husband’s shoulders. “Remember our promise to one another? I will never leave your side, Jon.”
Jon exhaled a breath and leaned in to rest his forehead to hers. “And I will never leave yours,” was his response.
Dorren is not sure if they came to an agreement or not on having another child; that is far past being his business, Dorren knows. He can only hope that his Lady and mother gets a third child; a daughter this time.
The Snow children have nurses, of course, as all children of their particular station has, but Sansa and Jon very much see to their children as much as they possibly can. When one wakes up in the night, crying out from a nightmare, Jon is the one to go to them and for Robbie’s afternoon nap each day, Sansa is the one to rock him until he’s asleep.
“Sleep well, my little one,” she murmurs into her son’s black curls now. “When you wake again, your papa will be home once more.”
Robbie, completely asleep, does not stir at his mother’s words or when Sansa places him gently in his bed.
Once Robbie is settled and his beloved stuffed wolf – a present from his Uncle Robb and Aunt Wynafryd – is in the crook of his arm, Sansa drops a light kiss to his head before standing and turning to Dorren.
“Shall we go find Ethan?” She suggests.
Dorren doesn’t dare baa for it might wake Robbie up. Instead, he turns and heads right out of the room, Sansa following behind him with a light laugh. Dorren knows where Ethan is at this hour and he leads the way, Sansa coming to walk at his side. At Maester Sam’s chancery door, Dorren lets out a Baa! to let them know that he is here and Sansa pushes the door open, poking her head inside to see if they’re interrupting. Dorren doesn’t care about that though and he pushes himself into the room.
Sam and Ethan are sitting at the table near the fire, a map of the North unrolled out in front of Ethan. Both lift their heads when Sansa, with Dorren, come inside and Ethan gives her mother a smile, Sansa returning it with one of her own as she gets closer to see how his lessons are going.
“Very good, Ethan,” Sam smiles at the boy. It had taken Sam quite a bit of time, but he is able to call both boys by their name instead of “My Lord” constantly. “And this one?” He points to another Coat of Arms marked on the map, Sansa leaning in closer to see which one it is.
Ethan pauses for a moment as he makes sure he has the right one. “House Tully of Riverrun,” he states.
“Very good,” Sam says again with a wide smile and Ethan smiles, too, looking up to Sansa, pleased with himself. Sansa is sure that he can see the pride in her own face. “And their House Words?”
Again, he pauses and takes a deep breath. “Duty, Family, Honor?”
“Close,” Sam says. “Those are the three. Just the wrong order.”
At that hint, Ethan is quick to correct it. “Family, Duty, Honor.”
“Excellent,” Sansa is the one to speak with a smile and Ethan sits a little straighter in his chair, proud.
“And what is our alliance to House Tully?” Sam asks him.
“Grandmother Catelyn is a Tully!” Ethan exclaims then; as if to say that out loud gives him joy.
Ethan’s lesson goes on for a bit longer before it ends and Ethan comes with Sansa, and Dorren, so Sam can see to some of his own work.
“Is Papa really coming back today?” Ethan asks as he holds Sansa’s hand and they make their way outside.
“He is,” Sansa nods with a smile. “Have you missed him?”
“Yes.”
Sansa squeezes her son’s hand. “Me, too. But maybe, next time your papa has to ride out, you will be able to come with him,” she suggests.
Ethan gasps at the suggestion with wide eyes. “You think so, mama?”
“It is something you must learn and who better to teach you about the lands of the Gift than your papa?”
It’s not her favorite thing to think of – and she knows that Ethan is only six so she still has some time before it happens – but one day, he will be Lord of the Gift – either once Jon has passed on or he is too old to see to the duties himself and passes the responsibilities onto his oldest son – and he needs to know his lands.
“My Lady.”
Both Sansa and Ethan turn to see Mikken, standing there, panting from having run to her.
“Riders approach, My Lady.”
“How many?” She asks.
“Three. And a direwolf,” Mikken confirms.
That makes Sansa smile. “Thank you, Mikken.”
The hustle and bustle in the courtyard seems to have intensified as word of their Lord’s approach is spread, all hurrying to finish what they are seeing to so they are able to greet Jon properly when he rides in.
“Papa!” Ethan calls out excitedly as Jon, followed by Davos and Del, rides into the courtyard, Ghost bringing up the rear of their party.
Dorren bleats at the sight of his friend and hurries to go greet him.
Jon is grinning as one of the stable boys hurry to hold the reigns of his horse steady so he may dismount. Ethan pulls his hand from Sansa’s so he can go running to him and Jon swoops his son up in his arms, hugging him tight, closing his eyes for a moment.
“I missed you,” Jon tells him. “Did you miss me? Were you good for your mama?” He asks, both pulling their heads back so they can look at one another.
“Yes, papa,” Ethan nods his head quickly to both questions. “Look, papa!” Ethan then turns his head so Jon might see Ethan’s own black curls pulled back into the tiniest bun to mirror Jon’s.
“Look at that,” Jon grins widely. “I haven’t been gone that long. Has your hair grown that quickly?”
“Yes!” Ethan exclaims with excitement and Jon laughs.
Once Ethan is on his feet once more and he goes to greet Davos, Del and Ghost, Jon’s eyes land right on Sansa as she stands there, looking at him with her own smile, and he quickly strides to her, the distance shrinking between them. Without a word, he pulls his wife into his arms and Sansa more than happily goes into them, both of them hugging one another tightly.
“All is well, My Lord?” Sansa asks him into the fur collar of his cloak.
“It is now that I’m home, My Lady,” Jon confirms.
…
“I don’t blame Jeyne for getting perturbed,” Sansa says as a kitchen serving girl brings more for them. “I wouldn’t have the patience to wait for six months.”
Jon and Sansa, along with Ethan and Robbie, have taken their evening meal in the family’s private solar so they might have some time alone. Jon has asked endless questions about what has happened while he has been gone on his bi-yearly tour of the Gift to visit the farmers and the smaller villages in the land; onion production is at an all-time high, there are more cranberry bogs than the year before and the year before that, and the farmers who have been tending their asparagus fields these past few years are finally able to harvest their crop.
As the Gift gains its wealth and word spreads of the small fortunes the farmers are able to earn for themselves, for the first time – in probably the history of Westeros – people are beginning to move to the Gift and the small villages are also growing in size.
And once Sansa has sworn that she has told him everything of what has happened in Queenscrown, Jon tells her of his own happenings. His final stop on his trip had been to Lenyl and Jeyne in their own small castle on the wall. They have had their first baby – a daughter – and though Sansa has received a raven from her dear friend just three days earlier, she still asks Jon to tell her everything.
“It is a wilding tradition,” Jon shrugs.
“I suppose,” Sansa sighs as if she doesn’t want to admit it and Jon cracks a smile.
Wildings do not name their babies for the first few months of their lives; mortality among wilding babies low due to the harsh environment they are born into and once they survive and seem that they will live, that is when they are named. Sansa knows that Lenyl and Jeyne’s life is a bit easier than if they had gone completely North of the Wall, but living on the Wall itself can be hard in its own ways. Still, she doesn’t know how Jeyne is able to wait. Sansa thinks naming hers and Jon’s children is one of her favorite things to do.
“Lenyl promised they’ll be visiting in the next month or so,” Jon adds and Sansa nods.
“Jeyne promised the same thing. I hope they are able to stay for a bit of time,” Sansa then admits and Jon gives her a small smile, keeping one arm wrapped around Robbie, sitting in his lap, and reaching his other hand out to cover Sansa’s. He knows that though Jeyne and Lenyl visit as often as they can, Sansa still very much misses having her dearest friend around all of the time.
“I do have something else to tell you,” Jon then says after he pauses to take another bite of his pigs feet pie.
Sansa is wiping Ethan’s mouth of gravy with his napkin and she lifts her head to look at her husband.
“Davos and I were speaking the other night and I told him… I confided in him about our discussions of maybe having another one of these,” Jon says, glancing down to Robbie before back to Sansa.
Sansa finds herself already smiling. Davos is one of the few people who can actually speak candidly with her husband in a way that gets her husband to actually listen. In her opinion, Davos is the smartest man in the Gift – but she is sure to keep that opinion to herself.
“And what did Davos say?” Sansa wonders.
“He reminded me that we survived a war. A terrible and long war and for the people who survive something like that, it is our duty to see that we live as much life as we can for those who no longer are able to.”
“I’ve always thought quite highly of Davos,” Sansa smiles.
Jon lets out a laugh. “I’m aware of that.”
“So…” Sansa looks to him, her smile only growing.
“So… if you’re certain and you’d like to… we could maybe begin to try tonight,” Jon suggests.
“Try what?” Ethan asks curiously, having overheard.
“Nothing,” Jon and Sansa both say at the same exact time and then looking to one another, they break into laughter. They do so much of that now.
Not just speaking at the same time, their thoughts so often being the same, but laughing. There are so many reasons to laugh and be happy, Sansa doesn’t even know if she can count them all.
After they lost their second baby – it so early in the pregnancy, they hadn’t even known if it was a boy or girl – laughter and smiles had certainly been hard to come by in the weeks that followed, but Jon and Sansa did what they have done this whole time together. They went through it, side by side, and survived and in the words of their House, they did not tremble.
Jon looks to her and when he leans over to her, Sansa begins to lean over to him as well and their lips meet.
This is definitely a reason at the top of the list of things to be happy though in Sansa’s opinion. Her husband and her husband’s kisses.
She still remembers how nervous she had been all of those years ago when she and her mother had been in a carriage from Winterfell, the only home she had ever known, coming to the Gift so that Sansa could see and meet her husband for the first time; worried that her husband wouldn’t like her or that she wouldn’t like him or that she would live the rest of her life without being loved.
Jon slowly pulls his lips back and Sansa opens her eyes to find him looking at her. He gives her a smile and Sansa easily smiles back, reaching a hand out to touch his cheek simply because she wants to touch him.
“I love you,” she then tells him; again simply because she wants him to know; as if he could possibly ever forget or doubt her deep feelings towards him after all this time.
But each time she says those words – no matter how many times she says them to him – Jon still breathes and smiles as if they’re the best words he’s ever heard.
“I love you, too,” Jon’s reply is instant.
And Sansa always smiles because those words are the best words she’s ever heard.
…
The End.