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The knock on her solar door interrupted her conversation with the steward. Morris, her guard, opened it revealing Jon. He took in her meeting and coughed awkwardly.
“I can return later…”
“No, it’s fine. That’ll be enough for today, Edmund.” she said, addressing her steward. “We’ll meet again tomorrow, but I trust you’ll settle the matter with the tenants.”
“Of course my Lady.” He bowed respectfully towards her and walked out, not acknowledging Jon.
Motioning for Morris to leave as well, she nodded for Jon to close the door after him. They were left alone for the first time since he returned. While she spent the day scrambling to make arrangements for her guests, he was outside, with the Guard preparing the barracks and camps of the foreign armies. Their allies… for now.
There had been no welcome feast, their guests exhausted from the journey, but one has been arranged for the next day, a small one before the oncoming battle.
After waiting for an invitation that never came, Jon took the seat across from her. She looked up at him from the letters scattered across her father’s table, her table, and they stared at one another, waiting for the other to be the first to break the silence.
She broke first.
“Have you checked whether our new queen has settled in?” she didn’t bother disguising the bitterness in her voice. They both knew exactly what would be discussed tonight.
Jon said nothing, only nodding his head.
Sansa huffed. A moment passed.
“How did she threaten you?” her voice was softer now, almost pleading. Let it be that she threatened you, she thought. Let it not be a betrayal. “Fire and blood? Set the North aflame?”
“She didn’t say anything of the sort.” Jon denied.
“But it was implied?” She was almost begging now.
“She’s not like that.” Jon said softly.
Sansa choked a laugh. “How would you know?” she asked incredulously.
He remained silent.
Frustration welled inside her chest. “What reason was there? Why? Tell me! I wasn’t there! Your hand, Davos,” she said the name with derision, “remains tight lipped. Only you can tell me what happened. So say it. Why?”
Jon sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. He shifted in his seat. “I know you don’t grasp the severity of the situation. An army is coming. One unlike any before. This is not the time.”
“No?” Sansa’s hand slapped the table. “I think it’s exactly the time. When else? Did you think that just because in a few weeks time we may all be dead you don’t have to address the consequences of your actions? Fine, you may be right and we may all die and this conversation may mean nothing. But if we live? Then what explanation will you give me, should you live? Should she? It doesn’t matter if I survive, the North will still demand an explanation. Do you think you settled the matter today? You didn’t. For weeks they’ve demanded answers from me. Even still today. I gave them the same reason you gave me. That we would discuss it after the war. But no. YOU cannot give ME that answer. I deserve an explanation.”
“Sansa, she is our best chance to win. Without her, without her army, we would lose. We would all die.” Jon emphasized.
“And there was no other way? She would not come any other way.”
Jon hesitated. Sansa noticed.
“What? You went North. You got her proof of the threat. You journeyed South and showed the proof to Cersei didn’t you? Daenerys wouldn’t join us unless you gave her the North. Right?”
Jon remained silent. His eyes fixed on her inkwell.
“Say it.” Sansa’s voice fell to a whisper. “Don’t lie … not to me.”
His voice matched hers in silence. “I bent the knee after she agreed to come North and fight.”
Silence.
It took a moment for her to understand. When it finally registered, the sting of betrayal she hoped wouldn’t come was finally felt. Her chest felt tight. She gripped at it, gasping for breath. She stood from her seat, pacing as though to breathe in air.
“She will be a good queen, Sansa. Please understand I would not have done it if I didn’t believe it to be true.”
She heard none of it.
“How could you do this?” she gasped.
“She’s not violent, she’s not mad. She can be reasoned with.”
“How could you do this to us?” her voice began to rise. His words began to register.
“She’s compassionate, she understands the burdens of ruling, of war. Please, Sansa!”
“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS!” she yelled, turning back to him.
“I DID THE BEST I COULD FOR THE NORTH!” he yelled back. They glared at each other for a moment. She waited. He continued gentling his voice. “Please, do not think this a betrayal.” He sighed in frustration, getting up and approaching her. “Sansa, we would never have been able to win a war against her-”
“Do not! Do not give excuses. We could have. At the very least we could have negotiated better terms for ourselves than simply returning to submitting to the Iron Throne.”
“We cannot fight a war on two fronts, Sansa! Even in the winter, especially in the winter.”
“Why would it have come to war when you said yourself she was willing to fight with us before she gained the North.”
“The issue wasn’t settled, Sansa. If we live after the Night King, she would still seek to take the North. She came here to take back her family’s throne, and all the kingdoms that come with it.”
“And so you gave it to her without question.”
“Sansa-”
“Without any negotiation, counsel, advisory. Without discussing it the Lords, with your bannermen. A letter was all I received. Telling me you bent the knee and you signed yourself Warden of the North.”
“We all knew there was a chance of this when I went South.”
“We knew there was a chance you would die. Not that you would sell us.”
“And that’s better, is it? That I die?” Jon laughed at the absurdity of her implication.
“That was the risk we knew. The risk I warned you of. It was why I counseled you not to go.”
Jon pinched his nose in frustration. “If I hadn’t left we would surely die against the Night King. We cannot stand against his force alone.”
“No. Not now anyway. Her dead dragon saw to that.” Silence. “Who knows, if we hadn’t sought her out, maybe the Wall would still be standing and the Night King couldn’t come south. Maybe the Night King has some power of foresight. It might be possible. Bran does. Maybe that’s the reason he rose now, because dragons are here and he can finally cross the Wall thanks to them.”
Jon paced away from her. “I don’t know Sansa. There is much I don’t know about this enemy. All I know is that fire and obsidian are what kill them and both were in Dragonstone, under Daenerys’ control and WE NEED HER.”
Tired, Jon returned to his seat, pouring himself a cup of watered wine. “I know this isn’t what you wanted, or what the Lords wanted. But I didn’t kneel blindly. She will be a good queen. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t believe it.”
“And how do you know that?” Sansa observed him. She didn’t take her seat, though she too was exhausted. She leant against it, waiting, watching him. “How do you know that she will be a good queen? To us? To the North?”
“By her deeds. She’s freed slaves all across the free cities –”
“There are no slaves in Westeros.”
“It is doing so that matters. She has a good heart, and is compassionate.”
“Or she saw an easy way to conquer and gain armies. Start slave uprisings and kill the nobility, and when the city is taken, she has an army that worships her for freeing them and no place to go but to follow her.”
“They are no longer slaves, they can choose to leave her if they wish.”
“And where would they go? Has her rule of their cities given them any other purpose but to follow her in conquest. She is not a ruler, she is a conqueror.”
“She ruled in Meereen.”
“And she left it. Yet she still calls herself the queen of Meereen.” Sansa scoffed, shaking her head. She thought back to what Petyr shared with her. “I heard her rule was tumultuous. Even the other cities she’s freed have descended into chaos.”
“I don’t know what rumors you’ve heard, but I know from witnessing her.”
“Her beauty.”
“Don’t.” Jon pushed his hands through his hair.
“Tell me I’m wrong.” Her voice cracked, desperate. She retook her seat. “Tell me you haven’t slept with her. Tell me your attraction to her doesn’t blind you.” Sansa begged. One brother she lost because of the wrong bride, she dared not lose another the same way.
“You cannot simply judge her for the result of her actions. Her intentions were pure. She does not have the foresight to know that freeing the slaves would make them follow her. She inspired them.”
“I CAN judge her for the consequences of her actions. Especially when she has the likes of Jorah Mormont and Tyrion Lannister by her side. How else should I judge her? I don’t know her. You don’t know her. And don’t avoid my question. I’m not blind. I’ve noticed how you gaze at each other. Did you sleep with her?”
She glared at him, daring him to meet her gaze. Slowly, he lifted his eyes, meeting the unwavering stare. He had never seen her look so disapproving. He had thought she would look like her mother; that the eyes of Catelyn Stark, that never looked at him with anything but suspicion and disapproval, would stare back at him through her daughter. But it wasn’t Catelyn Stark that stared at him then, but Eddard Stark. The disappointed Lord of the North was reflected through his eldest daughter. Jon never felt more like a bastard when he was met with his father’s disappointment. His daughter’s glare brought the same sentiment.
Sansa’s mouth twisted in derision. “Should I expect a wedding? Will you stand beside her in Kingslanding?”
Jon broke the stare.
“No? You didn’t discuss it before you fell into bed beside her?”
Jon breathed deeply, pinching his eyes. “No, we didn’t discuss it. And it is not a priority.”
“I don’t even know on whose behalf I should be more upset. Are you the whore here or is she?”
Jon spoke through his teeth, “Perhaps you can realize that we are both adults, both willing, and neither of us is being taken advantage of.”
“If you think anyone believes that, you’re an idiot.” Sansa smirked viciously. “Her men will think you seduced her and forced her to give into your every demand. The North will think the same in reverse. So unless you plan to marry her, then to the North you’re her whore, and to the South, she’s yours.”
“Would that be all that’s required then, that she and I marry? Would that please everyone and we can finally focus on the war that matters!”
“Of course not, you fool! Do you think marrying her would fix the problem of GIVING AWAY the North! It is not your dowry! Gods!”
“Then why bring it up then!”
“Because you are humiliating the North! You were our King! And now the Lords must see what you have been reduced to. The man that they CHOSE! How are they supposed to react? To you being the bed warmer of the mad king’s daughter.”
“Overt hostility towards her is not going to help matters. Daenerys is not her father. She has not done any harm to the North.”
“Except keep its king hostage for nearly half a year. And what should they do instead? Rejoice in her presence? Don’t forget that most of the lords lost kin in the war against the mad king. We lost kin against the mad king. Should I rejoice to have the daughter of the man who burned my grandfather alive and tortured my uncle to death in my halls? In their halls?”
“I expect you and the rest of the lords to recognize that she is the best hope we have to see an end to the Long Night.”
“You’re deliberately not understanding! I told you to be smarter. To be smarter than Robb, than Father -”
“Neither of them were fools Sansa. Father was a great lord, and Robb was a great king-”
“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know how smart and brave our brother was? I know that he was the greatest king in the realm during the War of Five Kings, I know that he never lost a battle, I know that men to this day drink in his name all across the North and the Riverlands because he was so beloved by the people. But I know what else they say. How they deride Jeyne Westerling, even though the loss of the North could hardly be laid at her feet. How they call Robb the King that Lost the North and lay the blame at a poor wife their king wed instead of the betrayals of his bannermen.
“Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if Jeyne was a good woman, or even if Daenerys is. Do you know what they’ll say? What the bards will sing. ‘The Banes of the North, Stark men and their Southern whores.’ That’s all that will be remembered when they think of Northern independence. That’s the legacy of Northern Kings now. That they lost the North following their cocks. I can imagine what they’ll say in the taverns. ‘What’s the cost of a southern slut now? A northern kingdom.’”
“Sansa!”
“Does it shock you! Do you think they’ll see her as anything less?”
“I think they’ll come to see her as the good and gracious queen that I know she is. I think that if this war is won they’ll see her as she is, a brave woman who saved us all.”
Sansa groaned in frustration. “You are blinded!”
“And you are shortsighted!”
“Me?” She was honestly bewildered by the accusation. “I’m shortsighted? You can’t see beyond the war for the living and I’m the shortsighted one?”
“Because the war for the living is the only war that MATTERS!” Jon exclaimed. He took a breath, calming himself.
“Please trust me. I did not kneel because I love her or because of her beauty. I knelt because I know she will be a good and true queen, and because it was going to happen regardless.”
“You are fool.” she did not hide the tears escaping her. “I love you Jon. You are my brother and I love you and you are a good man. But you decided to be a good man before being a good king, and for that you are foolish.” Jon’s breath hitched at her words. Her disappointment sat heavily in both of them. “You wanted to see the best in her so much that you did not think of the costs. You gave us away and now she has the power to take and give at her pleasure.” Sansa wiped her eyes. “The Dothraki for instance. What reward will she give them for following her? Will she gift them Northern land, northern brides, now that they are hers to give.”
“They are not savages, Sansa. Do not be so close minded.”
“Does that mean I should expect to marry one of them.”
“I would never force you to marry.”
“That is not under your control anymore. You bent the knee without negotiating our positions or our authority. You returned us to a system that has used us ill for centuries. Jon, you have no control anymore. I have no control anymore. We are back to being helpless, to being servants of a crown that will only see us when it wants coin and soldiers.”
“We are safe from dragon fire and invasions from the South!”
“So that’s it! ‘Live under my rule or die.’ I thought you said she was different.”
“She is!”
“That doesn’t sound any different from Aegon the Conqueror to me, or any of the others that came after him.”
“She is different! She is good! But she will have the seven kingdoms, and fight for them. She came with dragons! She will take them, and we cannot fight dragons, and her armies, and the dead, and winter!”
Sansa fell silent, acknowledging the truth of his words.
Encouraged, he continued, “We will have good trade with the other kingdoms. We will be able to rebuild from the war with the help of the other kingdoms.”
“What help?! She didn’t even bring enough food for the armies she brought with her. I thought she went to the Reach, I thought they were on her side? Where is the food then? We must pray for the Night King to come soon, otherwise he can just wait for us to starve!”
“If we continue to fight for our independence, they can starve us out anyway! We are crippled without their help!”
“They are crippled! We are all crippled from years of endless war! No one is going to help anyone if they can prioritize their people first. The only reason the Vale helps us now is because I begged Sweetrobin and entreated him based on the love of our familial bonds. Do you think it is easy? Do you think if we did not have such a bond I could ask for such aid from him? Do you think Willas Tyrell will simply give us aid because a Queen demands it of him without wanting something in return? Does she think it’s that easy? That all her requests will be answered because she has dragons that will burn anyone that gives her an answer she doesn’t want?”
“Stop making her sound like a tyrant!”
“Why? Does it make you uncomfortable that it’s too close to the truth?”
“Because you speculate about a woman you don’t know! She is not a tyrant. She is a good woman who wants a home and a family, a legacy-”
“Is that what she wants, or what you want? Are you certain you know her, or did you look at her and build a life with her in your head and made yourself believe it’s what she wants too.” Sansa knows too well that trap, she’s done it herself.
Jon could not answer. He thought of their conversations at night, when it was just the two of them. They spoke of her life with the Dothraki and his with the Free Folks, of their friends and brothers. They never spoke of the future, of what would happen after the war.
They were both quiet for a time.
Sansa’s next question was exhausted. She was exhausted, arguing with him all night. But it had to be asked. “And what comes after Daenerys? The Targaryens are not known for a steady rule. Nearly every generation came with a succession crisis or a dance. What then?”
“I do not know, she has not shared her plans.”
Sansa couldn’t help but scoff. “Of course not.” She shook her head in exasperation, that he allowed himself to be led by someone he knew so little, as if he was a child still and not a man of four and twenty. “I imagine she will have her child inherit, but then what? Will her children marry each other like her parents before her? Will she continue the doctrine of exceptionalism that allowed such madness to spread through their line?”
“As I’ve said, she has not shared her plans.” He was reluctant to share more, unwilling to share the secret Daenerys shared with him in the covers of the bed, that she could not have children of her own, and the dragons were the only children she would ever have.
Sansa’s gaze was unmoving, almost as if she could sense that he was omitting something. But it was also tired. Too tired to probe further.
Jon grabbed her hand. “I know you have questions, but all these can be answered later, when the war is won.”
Sansa gazed at their joined hands. “Which war? The war for the living, or her war for a cold chair in the south?”
She slowly slipped her hand away.
“Sansa –” Jon started, reaching once again, but she did not allow him to reach her, standing now and moving towards the fire.
“It has been a long night Jon. Go rest.”
Jon stared at her for a moment longer. Realizing she would not be swayed he dropped his hand and rose.
“Sleep well Sansa.” He whispered before making his way towards the door. He thought he heard a quiet scoff.
He was about to leave before Sansa’s voice stopped him.
“Has she even seen it?”
Jon looked at her in askance.
“When you both went South, did either of you even see it? The throne she wants so much.”
“No.”
“I see.” Sansa fell silent again. When nothing else was said, Jon left the room, Morris still standing sentinel outside her door. He met Jon’s gaze, judging. Jon bore it. He would bear it all.