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“Jon’s here.” Robb is breathless after pushing through the crowds filling their childhood home. Sansa’s throat closes, the smile that had just been on her face falls just as quickly as it was once there, and her fiancé doesn’t miss it. Theon seems to lean a little closer to her as he sighs, “Of course.”
Robb looks at Sansa with desperation, as if he’s pleading for forgiveness for something he has nothing to do with. Catelyn must’ve invited Jon for pleasantries sake to Ned’s 60th birthday and assumed he'd decline just as he had to every other Stark family event for the past five years. Well, any Stark family event where Sansa was going to show.
Robb shoves his phone in his pocket and looks to Theon, “I’m gonna go say hey. You coming?”
Theon glances at Sansa and holds her gaze, “Let’s bite the bullet.”
Panic seizes her voice and she finds herself being pulled along by both her older brother and her fiancé out of the living room area and towards the front dining room. If she backs away it’ll cause a fight with Theon. If she squeezes Robb’s arm for strength, he’ll see straight through her. So Sansa silently allows herself to lead straight up to the man who broke her 22 year old heart.
It’s no surprise how handsome he looks, although uncomfortable in the crowded party setting. The home must be packed with at least 100 people, maybe more. Jon Snow stands with a champagne glass in one hand as he chats with Bran. They both turn because there's no denying the sensation of six pairs of eyes staring them down.
Jon has on a polished pale blue button up shirt that’s tucked into a pair of ironed navy slacks. Sansa tries not to linger on how his muscles look beneath the dress shirt as he is pulled into a hug by Robb. Bran immediately dips out, all too wise to stick around.
Robb pulls back and Jon is trying not to smile, it causes her face to feel flush. He’s avoiding looking at her and it’s painfully obvious. Theon still has an arm around her waist that he must’ve slid across as they walked into the room. It makes her feel small and silly.
“Hey Jon.” Theon sticks his hand out and Jon pauses for just a beat too long. When their hands connect for a handshake it’s brief and strong. A gentleman’s gesture to thinly veil the tension.
Then Jon gifts her with his gaze. There’s a warm look to his grey eyes that are framed with a new looking pair of gold glasses. He’s freshly shaved and long gone are his shoulder length curls from their teenage days. He’s a true grown man, short hair, no beard, and broad shoulders. Sansa tries her best to give him a smile and raises a hand up to give a wimpy wave. “Hi Jon.”
“Hi Sansa.” He sticks his right hand out and she returns the gesture with her left. Of course he’d done it on purpose. The engagement ring on her finger gleams in the light as they shake their hands. A current rips through her spine and she feels short of breath.
Theon’s fingers are digging into her stomach from where his arm is still around her waist. She tries to pull her hand away, but he simply holds it up to allow the ring glitter. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” Theon answers with a smile that anyone could see is far from friendly.
“Sorry I missed the engagement party last month.” Jon chides and Theon barely conceals an eye roll.
“It’s alright.” Sansa replies, in an attempt to soften the mood. Theon gives her a weird look while Jon sets his jaw and stares at the ring like it’s about to bite.
Robb clears his throat and Jon drops her hand like a sack of potatoes. Her arm swings down back to her side like dead weight and she feels the same way she did the day Jon dropped her off at the airport after they’d said all those horrible things to one another.
Does he still replay that day when he closes his eyes to sleep like she does? Does he try to trace back what exactly broke the dam? What broke the seal? How did they get where they ended up?
Robb carefully updated her as years went by. Jon was promoted from lieutenant to captain to now a major in the Marine Corps. He had completed another tour and was now looking towards retirement and moving back to Winterfell. That last update was from months ago at Thanksgiving dinner when Arya had poked and prodded for Sansa’s sake.
“Where’s your dad?” Jon looks at Robb and just like old times, the two of them talk like they’re the only people in the room. Anyone is doomed to be a third wheel around the two of them. And a familiar ache beats in her chest for Theon.
Jon had been best friends with Robb since practically birth. Theon came around somewhere when they were in third grade. Jon and Theon were never all that close, their common ground being Robb and the Stark house. Robb had a thing for picking people who needed extra love to befriend.
Sansa had a habit of falling in love with the friends Robb chose.
Theon whispers, “I feel like I’m at a goddamn high school party.”
Sansa scrunches her nose and giggles at that. He leans down and kisses the crown of her head, and lets go of his possessive grip on her hip. Clearly checking himself of acting somewhat childish as well. “Yeah well, I think you’re still prom king.”
Theon scoffs at that, “No silly, that’s your brother.”
They both share a laugh and she feels a little more at ease. When Sansa looks to see Jon and Robb staring at them, she feels as if she’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Robb tilts his head towards the direction he last saw their dad, and Jon doesn’t seem to register that Robb is trying to distract him. Sansa is frozen under his stare. It would seem expressionless if you didn’t know him any better, but she can see a glimpse of hurt beneath his calm surface.
“We’ll see you later, Snow. Good seeing you.” Theon says dismissively and grabs Sansa’s hand after slapping a false smile on his face.
“Sure. Good to see you.” Jon pulls his eyes away from them and follows Robb out of the room.
It feels empty as soon as he crosses into the kitchen, and Theon gives her hand a comforting squeeze. “Wasn’t too bad.”
Sansa shrugs noncommittally and reaches for a champagne glass on a catering staff’s passing tray. An old friend from Theon and Robb’s high school football team comes up and Sansa uses it as the appropriate excuse to down the entire glass in a gulp. The burning fizz makes her insides feel both warm and dull.
The night crawls on slowly, a never ending parade of new and old faces. In every room she searches for his face. Sometimes he’s there, more often than that, he’s not. She feels guilty when she wishes he was, especially as friends and family congratulate her and Theon on their fourth month old engagement.
Around 9:00, the remaining guests toast to Ned and a giant vanilla cake with dazzling sparklers is brought out. Everyone sings happy birthday and Sansa feels tears prick her eyes at the sight of her dad’s earnest joy. He blows out his candles and then gives his wife and all his children a kiss. Ned gives Theon one too, loudly insisting that he’s becoming one of his kids.
It dies down at 10:00, after Catelyn hits the green light on Arya and Rickon’s perfected “kick out party guests” routine that consists of awful music, turning lights off, and obvious and obnoxious yawns. Catelyn has asked her kids to help with gathering trash before leaving, and that she will deal with the rest the following day.
The exhausted Stark siblings gather cups, plates, and discarded napkins littered throughout the house. Sansa is cracking up at Bran’s impression of their Aunt Lysa hearing that Theon’s older sister is a lesbian. He even perfects her bug eyes perfectly, it makes Sansa cackle like a witch.
“Could you take the last bag?” Robb pokes his head into the living room where Bran and Sansa had just finished clearing underneath the furniture. They turn towards each other for a game of rock, paper, scissors and of course Sansa loses. She heaves a sigh and heads towards the kitchen to drag the last bag outside to the garbage cans.
The black bag is heavy in her arms, she struggles with her grasp on it as she closes the door behind her and down the stairs to the garage. An abrupt noise makes Sansa scream and drop the bag. There’s scuffling and she’s being shushed by Jon Snow with a joint in between his lips.
“Shut up!” He hisses and Sansa’s hands fly to her mouth. She starts to giggle as Jon scrambles with gathering up the trash she’s dropped. “San!”
The old nickname cuts through the lighthearted moment like a velvet sword. She flinches at it and he blinks stupidly, hands full of dirty plates and napkins. Sansa opens her mouth to say something, but stops herself and closes it just as fast. Jon goes right back to picking up the remaining garbage and Sansa joins in.
“You couldn’t even go outside?” Sansa chastises him.
Jon snorts, “Garage is the safest place. Plus your Dad is out there waving to people and helping with the trash.”
Of course Jon had done recon and knew the best way to sneak a smoke in. How did she expect anything else? When he shoves the last piece of trash in, Sansa ties it off and goes to walk past the cars and out to the bins.
“Sansa Greyjoy, huh?” Jon stops her in her tracks. Sansa doesn’t spin back around, merely pauses, waiting for another dagger in the form of words. “How did he ask?”
“In our apartment.” Sansa spares him the details of how Theon invited all of her friends and family over to have a surprise party afterward. He’d sent her to the nail salon and hired a photographer, just like she had always imagined. Theon had asked her Dad first and was given a blessing from both Ned and Cat. He’d gotten on one knee and Sansa’s eyes had swam in tears. Once upon a time she had wished for the exact question from the man standing behind her.
She turns around and drops the trash bag to her feet. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
Jon smirks, “I’ve kept my word.”
“Go, leave , and I’ll never see you again.”
Sansa hums in response and tucks her curled hair behind her ear. The heels on her feet had been kicked off hours ago, and her silver cocktail dress was beginning to suffocate her. Or was that the smell of the weed? She clears her throat and spins her ring on her finger, “You’ve broken it now. Why?”
“Ned.” Jon answers simply and she feels deflated. Her dad was his dad. Coached his baseball teams and bought him new equipment for each birthday. Talked his mom into letting him enlist in the Marines at age 17. To Jon, Robb hung all the stars and the moon in the sky, and Ned taught him how. There wasn’t anybody on this planet Jon respected more.
That was why when they broke up, Jon told Robb and Ned for her. She sometimes allows herself to think that Jon couldn’t ask her to marry him due to his loyalty to both her brother and Dad. Theon was brazen enough to just go for it, ask forgiveness later, and she hadn’t ever made her mind up about which personality pleased her most.
“Didn’t know Robb would be so forgiving about both of his best friends being with his sister.” Jon scratches at his jaw and Sansa feels her eyes narrow.
“Theon’s a good man.” Sansa spits defensively.
Jon throws his hands up, “Didn’t say he wasn’t.”
He’s referring to how they snuck around for the first six months of their relationship when she was 15 and he was 17. Maybe they would’ve never come out of secrecy if Robb hadn’t caught them kissing on the couch.
“Well, only one asked me to marry him.” Sansa reaches for the trash bag and Jon reaches forward but stops before grabbing her arm.
“His mom’s ring.” Jon nods at the giant diamond on her hand and Sansa sets her jaw.
“I know where my ring is from, thanks.” She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms once again, this time being sure to hide the ring from sight. Theon had to go to his alcoholic and estranged father to ask for the family heirloom. Old Balon had kept it in a safe and Theon hadn’t told Sansa what he had to do to get it, but she was fully aware of her fiance’s estranged relationship with his father and the pain the loss of his mom has always caused him. Its’ meaning makes the diamond all the more heavy on her hand.
Jon rubs at his jaw and takes another long pull from his joint. “Well, congratulations.”
Sansa chews her bottom lip and tries her best to be pleasant, “Thanks.”
“Can I ask you something?” Jon flicks the butt of his roach towards the workbench. Sansa blinks a few times and stares at the smoke billowing, in case it catches everything on fire. It’s exactly how her insides feel after he asks her that.
“Sure.” She’s scared, but tries to remain calm as Jon looks her dead in the eye.
“Do you love him?” Jon asks her like he’s asking her what’s the color of the sky. As simple as that. She swallows at the fury bubbling in her stomach and fixes her glare on his grey eyes.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Why won’t you answer?” He tilts his head and Sansa scrunches her nose up and sighs.
“Because I don’t have to and it’s none of your business.” Sansa explains and watches how the edge in her tone affects him. She gets the reaction she aimed for, Jon looking away and to his feet for a moment, then back to her. It doesn’t make her proud but rather all the more nervous.
How easy it is to fall into old habits.
Jon scoffs, “Forgive me, but I don’t see how asking if you love your fiancé is a private matter.”
“You know it is.” Sansa lowers her voice, “To me. To you.”
Maybe that’s why they hadn’t worked out, both of them so obsessed with privacy and decency and respect. Theon does what he wants, takes what he likes, and apologizes later. He flies his flag high and proud. There’s never a moment where he’s ashamed or unsure of who he is.
Sansa fell for Jon when she was a kid. They’d stolen kisses and fooled around in cars and closed parks. He’d told her he loved her and she had her first time with him in the forest behind her family’s estate. There’d been stars out that night, little puffs of their breath in the night air, and he promised forever.
He went to signed his life over to their country and that was the end of that. It wasn’t until Theon took her out to dinner a few years later that she retrospectively could see the cracks in their foundation.
The way Jon had dropped her hand in the store if people walked by, how he’d always leave at least two inches between them at any family function, and when she got accepted into an advanced specialty program at Vale U he jumped at the chance to urge her to move even further away from him.
Now space is the only thing she wants as she realizes he’s a mere few inches from her face. Jon Snow’s eyes go soft and he asks again, “Do you love him?”
“Yes.” She answers like she’s biting his throat.
“Liar.” He throws back and now he’s even closer to her face and she feels like slapping him, or pulling him closer, or running away altogether. Maybe all three. Sansa bores into him with a fiery stare and shakes her head as she begins to back away. “Don’t.”
“Tell me you love him and I’ll go back inside.” Jon pleads and Sansa shoves a hand up to stop him.
“I said don’t. ” Sansa keeps shaking her head and then his hands are on her arms and he’s right in her face again.
“Tell me I don’t have a chance and I’ll leave.” Jon repeats, “Do you love him?”
“What does it matter?” Sansa shouts, “You made a choice when you chose Eastwatch. When you chose to move so far and make a future without me, you made your intentions very clear.”
“I didn’t—“
“No! I did what you couldn’t.” Sansa seethes, “I ended things before you could drag it out and hurt us both any more than you already had.”
“I love you!” Jon yells and she jumps in response. He lowers his voice, “I never fucking stopped. You left me and broke my heart and so yeah, I want to know if the man you’re with is the man you really want. Because I couldn’t be anymore different than Theon fucking Greyjoy, so I’m trying to wrap my head around how you could ever love me and him.”
Sansa is left reeling, her lower lip trembles, “Stop it.”
“Answer the question.” Jon pushes, “After everything, the least you could give me is that.”
“Stop it, Jon.” Sansa feels the alcohol churning and tears burning, “Please.”
“Because I never stopped.” Jon whispers, “I love you. I love you, Sansa Stark.”
She opens her mouth and then there’s a hand on her shoulder, a familiar hand, and with their heated exchange of words, she completely missed Theon walking up. “Let’s go Sansa.”
Jon sets his jaw and doesn’t look away. It’s everything she’s ever wanted to hear from him. But it’s too late.
“Let’s go Sansa.” Theon repeats himself and Jon still hasn’t moved. Their heavy breathing and closeness is unmoving, even as Theon gently tugs her shoulder. She should go, she should be following her fiancé.
His hand drops and he’s looking between the two of them as he urges her again, “Sansa.”
Sansa should go.
“Sansa.” Jon pleads just one more time and Theon is snarling.
“Shut the fuck up Snow, shut UP!” He shouts and Sansa begins to shake. She turns and tries to grab Theon but he’s already lunging. “Theon!”
And Jon hits the ground as Theon tackles him there. The garage floor gives off a nasty sound as they tussle and she feels like a fish out of water. Gasping and spinning, everything's so blurry, and she turns and pukes.
“Greyjoy!” Robb’s voice calls and then there’s her siblings all gathered in the garage, no doubt in an attempt to quiet this from their parents' attention. Bran is pulling Sansa aside as Arya and Robb pull Jon and Theon apart from one another.
They’re speaking in hushed tones that sound like threats and Sansa tries to kick a towel over her puke. Rickon steps up and pours the remainder of his handle of Tito’s overtop to wash it away.
Bran sighs and Sansa can’t help but drunkenly snicker in spite of the drama unfolding. Arya motions for her to head inside, as if she’s a mother trying to redirect her small child. Sansa wants to defend herself but Bran’s already pulling her away from the scene.
“Always the princess the knights have to fight over, huh Sansa?” Rickon jests as he jogs to keep up with Bran and Sansa’s long strides.
She’s being brought outside of the garage and towards the back door when she finally gets the chance to look over her shoulder and see Robb scolding a sulking Theon as Arya yanks a limp and angry Jon around. It feels good to be told what to do in this instance, because she’s not entirely sure what she would’ve said if Theon hadn’t walked up.
They sit in their apartment, right on the bare wood floor, and it looks completely different in the post war light. Sansa watches Theon’s throat bob before he speaks, “I’ll always love you.”
“I know.” She grabs his hand. “And I’ll always love you.”
“I wish it were enough.” Theon tenderly removes his mother’s ring and she feels a weight melt off her chest. Tears prick her eyes as he slides it into his pocket.
She nods and kisses his cheek. “You’re more than enough.”
He scoffs and scratches his jaw, “So I’ve been told.”
Sansa gives him a smile and rises to her feet. “I know I’ll be seeing you. Be good, Theon.”
“Never.” Tears spring from his eyes as he tries to joke. Sansa walks away to grant him privacy, not to run, and definitely not to hide.
She walks away to finally face her fears. To finally be alone.
Her work day is over, she switches off the lights to her office, and heads to her new apartment with a craving for spaghetti. So she does just that. Once in her comfy clothes, she boils her pot of water and listens to her favorite podcast.
The noodles have just hit the water when there’s a gentle rap of knuckles on her front door. It’s unusual for anybody to show up unannounced, especially since her move from Winterfell last year. She’s a solid thirty minutes away from her family which always warrants a heads up before a visit, despite her very clingy siblings.
It makes her worried, and she answers the door in a rush. Her hair unkempt, mismatched sweatpants and Justin Bieber t-shirt, and cheetah slippers all bared as she swings it open.
“Hi.”
Jon stands in a neat black sweater, worn black jeans, and his classic vans. The shock doesn’t wear off even when she realizes his fingers are doing the twitchy thing they do when he’s nervous.
He’s grown his hair out now, his retirement probably in full effect, and the dark stubble on his chin makes her lick her lips.
“Hi.” She finally replies and leans against her opened door.
“I quit smoking again.” He sputters out.
Sansa can’t help but smile, “Yeah?”
He nods, scratching at the back of his neck, “I also quit being an asshole.”
Sansa bites her lip at that, watches him twitch a bit more, “Did you quit loving me?”
“How could I?” He looks defeated in the best way, “I could never quit you.”
“I love you, too.” Sansa falls and lets him catch her. She wraps her arms around his neck and when he kisses her, she knows for certain it’s forever. That this was what was always meant to be.
Their exile was one that was never meant to last.