Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10786377.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Game_of_Thrones_(TV), A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin, A
      Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_&_Related_Fandoms
  Relationship:
      Robb_Stark/Sansa_Stark, Robb_Stark_&_Jon_Snow
  Character:
      Robb_Stark, Sansa_Stark, Lysa_Tully_Arryn, Original_Characters, Jon_Snow,
      Brienne_of_Tarth, Petyr_Baelish
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe-20th_Century_Westeros, Child_Neglect, Angst_and_Hurt/
      Comfort, Sibling_Incest, Molestation, Friendship, Guilt, Slow_Burn,
      Explicit_Sexual_Content
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-05-01 Updated: 2017-08-29 Chapters: 8/? Words: 31795
****** Games We Played in the Dark ******
by vivilove
Summary
     Westeros is in chaos from Civil War and only the East remains
     neutral. Robb and Sansa Stark are sent to live with their Aunt Lysa
     as children to escape the dangers of war threatening their home. But
     their aunt is mentally ill and leaves them to the indifferent care of
     her estate's servants. All they have is each other and, as they grow,
     their sibling bond will be tested by temptation in their isolation
     and ignorance of the way of the world.
Notes
     A Birthday gift to Janina! I'm also gifting it to Jeanettesc as a
     devoted Robsa 'shipper/writer :) I hope you both will like...my Robsa
     tends to be much more filled with angst than my Jonsa.
     If you usually read my Jonsa stuff and this is not your 'ship, please
     don't read it. It will involve sibling incest and if you've got a
     problem with that then...don't read it!
     Thought of this with the idea of Londoners sending their children
     North during the Blitz to escape the bombings and decided to see what
     could happen to two forgotten children neglected by their caregivers.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Sansa had cried on the bus all the way to Aunt Lysa’s estate from the train
station. She’d cried all the way from Winterfell in truth. Robb hadn’t cried.
Not since Father had been shot down two years ago. He’d wanted to stay at home.
He was nearly nine and he could be brave. Bombings and air raids shouldn’t
drive a Stark from his home. But instead, he held his snuffling sister to him
and tried to comfort her while other passengers stared at them; some gave the
two children sympathetic looks, others were annoyed at the little girl’s tears.
He looked down at the name tag and directions that had been affixed to his
jacket and wanted to rip it off. I am eight, nearly nine. I know my own name
and the name of my aunt and her address.
Mother had put them on a train heading East. The Vale had remained neutral
during the war and she hoped her two children would be safe there with her
sister. There were tears in her eyes but her voice was stern as she reminded
them of what she expected of them while they stayed with Aunt Lysa. Do not
shame your father or I…or yourselves. You are Starks. Don’t expect things to be
handed to you. Be useful, good children…and know that I love you.
She’d promised they could return to her once the worst of the bombings were
over. She’d went to Riverrun to help her brother because she was needed there.
Women were needed for the War Effort. The North and the Riverlands had been at
war with the South for nearly three years now. The South was winning and
perhaps Catelyn Stark could’ve stayed with her sister as well and remained safe
by her children. But her brother said he had need of her and Catelyn Stark was
never one to shirk her duty.
But her duty had been the death of her, killed during a night raid two moons
after she’d sent them away.
And, no one came for Robb and Sansa Stark. Their uncles were dead along with
their mother and father they were told. The war raged on and there was no one
living to come for them. So, they stayed at Aunt Lysa’s isolated and dreary
estate that was falling into disrepair.
Aunt Lysa was strange…quite strange. She was very wealthy but quite miserly.
She had little interest in her niece and nephew and told them to play in the
library or outside, to keep out of the way. She asked them to stay out of the
drawing room as she liked it kept just so. But Aunt Lysa rarely left the wing
where her bedroom was on the second floor. Robb and Sansa had a room in another
wing, far from Aunt Lysa. Days might pass without seeing their aunt. Sansa had
tried. She wanted her mother and she thought Aunt Lysa was the closest thing
they had now. Her efforts were met with indifference and chilly disdain and
Sansa stopped trying as the moons passed.
A maid had said they should have their own rooms but Aunt Lysa had never
replied or instructed anyone to see to it. There were only a handful of
servants there. Robb didn’t complain. Sansa needed him at night…and Robb needed
her, too. It seemed to forever be cold as though winter had come to stay. The
fires were not stoked to burn all night. And, Robb and his little sister
huddled beneath the thin blankets together, trying to remember what real warmth
was like. They’d been raised in Winterfell and should’ve been used to the cold
but somehow, it’d never seemed so cold there as it did in Aunt Lysa’s house.
Sansa would often cry at night for Mother and Father. Robb held her and kissed
her cheeks and promised that someday they would visit Mother’s grave and
Father’s memorial. But, her tears came nearly every night all the same. One
night when he was so very tired of them, he spoke angrily to his little sister
and told her to shut up about the dead, that they didn’t care about them
anymore. Sansa had cried all the harder and told him he was cruel which smote
his heart. He feared he had ruined the happy harmony they had enjoyed. He
needed her just as she needed him. All they had was each other.
So, Robb had decided to make amends and remembered the shadow game. He’d taken
the torch from the bedside table and flick it on, aiming the beam of yellow
light at the ceiling above. Then, he’d make creatures with his hands and
fingers. Slowly, Sansa crept from the far side of the bedroom and came to see
what he was about until she was giggling and lying beside him like always
again. Every night they played the shadow game for many moons in the dark of
night. The wolf was Sansa’s favorite. She’d snuggle down next to him and
request different animals but the wolf was always requested first and last each
night. Robb knew not all his animals were very good but she never once
complained. She was usually asleep before too long anyway.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Five years passed and Robb and Sansa had accepted their parents’ deaths. Sansa
no longer cried at night. Robb suspected she had forgotten Father and was
slowly forgetting Mother, too. He had not forgotten them…not completely. And he
was still angry at them for leaving them both behind. Not that his anger
mattered any more than his wishes did.
The war still raged across the country except in the Vale. The East remained
neutral and Sansa said they should be thankful to be safe and together. Robb
was not certain he agreed. He liked the idea of getting out and away from the
estate, of attending school and having mates to play sports with him…and seeing
girls.
He’d turned fourteen a moon ago. Sansa had made him a little cake in the
kitchens. Aunt Lysa had not said a word. She drifted through the house like a
spirit from time to time but stayed in her rooms mostly. Sometimes she sang
lullabies as she walked down the halls and Robb would shiver. None of her
children had survived infancy. Most had been stillborn the maids whispered.
Robb knew what that meant.
They had a tutor that came to them for a few days each moon but mostly they had
the library. There were so many books to read. Thousands, Robb was nearly
certain. He read everything he could get his hands on when the days were short
and the frost was covering the ground.
The only time the Stark children left Aunt Lysa’s estate was for holy days. The
sept in the village was vast and made of stone. Sansa asked if it was a castle
the first time they’d visited it. The old maid servant that had escorted them
there scoffed and bid her to be silent. No one talked to them much. The
servants had little to say to them ever. They fed them but Sansa saw to their
clothes once a maid had taught her to sew and Robb helped where he could. They
had each other at least.
Sometimes at night, Sansa would still ask for the shadow game. Robb would turn
on the torch and make the wolf with his fingers and hands and he could feel her
face splitting in a smile as she was nestled to his chest. He felt good then
and whole. When the torch was turned off again and his sister would sleep, Robb
would stroke her long auburn hair and dream of far-away places they could go
together.
The library was for reading but sometimes Aunt Lysa forgot to pay the
electricity bill and it would be too dark for reading even by candlelight in
the dead of winter. Sansa was bored and Robb wanted to be outside and run and
shout but it was too cold.
“Let’s play hide and seek,” Sansa said that evening.
“I’m too old for hide and seek,” Robb said.
“You’re not. You’re never too old for hide and seek. Who will know what we do
anyway?”
So, Robb agreed and Sansa said she would be the seeker first. She counted to
fifty and Robb went to the empty study where Aunt Lysa’s long dead husband had
once worked on his accounts for the estate and where no one sat and worked now.
It was very dark inside the study and the furniture was all covered in dust
cloths. For a long time he waited. The initial giddiness in hiding and knowing
someone was looking for him had started to fade when he heard the door crack
open and the excited anticipation built once more.
“Robb?” she whispered. “Are you here?”
He nestled down even further under the old cloth and willed himself to be
still, to draw no notice. He heard her breathing shallowly, as though she were
afraid. She’s the seeker. Why is she afraid? But then, it occurred to him that
sometimes we don’t know what we may find when we go seeking in the dark.
“Robb,” she whimpered, “are you here?”
He started to answer but just as he drew breath the dust caused him to issue a
tremendous sneeze. Sansa startled and yelped but his laughter soon made her
laugh.
“Were you afraid, princess?” he teased once he’d come out from the cloth and
stopped sneezing. “You sounded afraid.”
“I wasn’t,” she protested. “And it’s your turn to find me now.”
And so, Robb and Sansa found a new amusement to pass the time, one that did not
disturb Aunt Lysa or the servants all that much. Except when Robb would capture
Sansa sometimes, he would tickle her and she would shriek…then quickly cover
her mouth in fear.
“Quiet,” he would say sternly as they perked up their ears to see if anyone
would come to admonish them.
“Then, don’t tickle me,” she would say stubbornly.
“I like tickling you,” he would say next with a grin and she would only smile
indulgently back at him.
 
===============================================================================
 
Robb woke early one morning with that feeling and he rolled away from Sansa who
was still snoring softly at his side. It was still dark out. He reached for the
handkerchief on the nightstand. He could see to the ache and not disturb her.
It was an ache but a sweet one. He slowly and silently pulled his nightshirt up
and his smallclothes down to expose his cock. He glanced over his shoulder and
listened to Sansa’s steady breathing. He licked his palm and moved it downward,
grasping his length. He moved languidly at first and it felt so good.
He was so hard and he closed his eyes and thought of the naughty book in Aunt
Lysa’s library he had found a few moons ago, the one about the soldier and the
lonely widow. The solider had been wounded and needed to be nursed back to
health and the widow took him in. She had red hair and her own husband had died
a few years earlier. Robb had not understood all of the book but he’d
understood enough.
He felt some moisture leaking from the tip now and he traced his thumb over it,
rubbing it over the head and then picking up the pace of his strokes. He bit
his lip to keep from crying out. He was close, so close to that satisfying
release that left him panting but sated. He’d use the handkerchief to wipe
himself clean and then he could fall back asleep for another couple of hours
before Sansa woke him.
“What are you doing?” his sister asked quietly over his shoulder.
He jolted up and yanked down his nightshirt. “Nothing!” he shouted.
“Robb?”
“Leave me alone!” he yelled next as he climbed out of bed and went to the water
closet as though he had to relieve himself.
He tried to touch himself again but it was gone. The sweet ache was just a
memory of itself, it had faded like a fog in the sun. His cock was still hard
but it was softening quickly. He felt frustrated, angry…and ashamed. He’d
yelled at her and it was not her fault. He came out of the dressing room.
“I’m sorry, Sansa,” he said. He could hear her quiet snuffling.
“Leave me alone, Robb,” she said.
He climbed back in the bed and pulled her close. He wouldn’t leave her alone.
She was all he had. “I’m sorry for how I acted.”
“What were you doing?”
“It’s…difficult to talk about. I’m growing up, Sansa. My body is changing and…”
“Like the hair you have now? On your legs and under your arms and the other
place?” she asked in her innocence.
“Yes, princess, like that.”
“Were you touching your…thing?” she asked next, looking away and refusing to
say the word, the proper one or the improper one.
He closed his eyes and begged the Mother to have mercy on him and spare him
this conversation. But the gods never did listen all that well to mere mortals,
certainly not him. He opened his eyes to find Sansa’s blue eyes staring into
his own.
“Yes,” he said quietly.
“Was it hurting you?”
“No. It felt good.”
Sansa said nothing further that night but she curled up into his chest and fell
back asleep. He woke a few hours later. It was light out and he was hard and
pressed into his sister’s belly. He rolled out of bed and splashed cold water
from the basin in his face and washed himself. The cold water took away the
ache…for a time.
 
A fortnight passed with nothing more being said about the matter of Robb
touching his thing. But Sansa was curious about him. He caught her eyes on him
more often than not. She often was saying things about how tall he’d grown. She
was growing, too, and not just in stature. She turned twelve a few a few moons
after his birthday and her breasts had begun to develop. She said they hurt and
Robb found himself wondering what they would feel like in his hand. One of his
favorite passages in the book was about the soldier playing with the widow’s
breasts. He would kiss and suck at them and the widow would moan with pleasure
and the soldier would like that, too.
Robb stirred in the night and felt a hand on him…touching his cock through his
nightshirt.
“Sansa,” he said.
“I’m sorry. It felt hard and I was just curious,” she whispered.
He grunted but did not tell her to stop. He did not want her to stop. The ache
was building. Robb laid there letting her touch him through his nightshirt and
felt his mouth getting dry. This is wrong, he realized with mounting panic as
he was getting very near his release. He tried to roll away and Sansa withdrew
her hand.
“You shouldn’t do that,” he said heavily.
“Why?”
“You just shouldn’t.”
The next morning Robb spoke to the only remaining man servant. The estate was
quite dilapidated now. The tradesmen still brought supplies from the village
but they seemed frightened when they stopped and never lingered long.
“I need a room of my own,” Robb said.
“Yes, sir,” the man responded.
He was settled by nightfall and Sansa had cried the whole day once she’d
realized he was moving out of their room. She begged him to forgive her and
come back to their room and play the shadow game in the dark and she promised
not to touch him again like she had. Robb shook his head and said it was for
the best.
“You’re all I have and you’re leaving me!” she shouted.
“I won’t ever leave you, Sansa. And I’m only a room away,” he responded.
It made no matter to Sansa though.  She slammed her door shut and he heard her
cry all through the night.  It's for the best, he told himself.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     Robb deals with the fallout from changing rooms and the siblings are
     at odds until Sansa needs her brother's help. Later, they both have a
     taste of freedom in the village and interacting with others.
Chapter Notes
     First, I kind of made Maiden's Day my own thing here and didn't
     follow the canon stuff. Just tell yourself since this is set
     centuries after the events of ASOIAF things have changed.
     Second, I'd intended to get to smut in this chapter as I told myself
     I was not embarking on another long fic. Well, I got caught up in
     their innocence and didn't want to push things too fast so no smut
     yet. And I guess this sucker will be a bit longer than I'd planned.
     Funny how often that happens to me ;)
Two moons passed in complete loneliness and isolation for Robb. No doubt Sansa
felt the same but she didn’t show it. And it’s all her fault anyway, he thought
broodily as he sat in the library at night watching her embroider and
completely ignore him.
She’d cried and cried that first night he’d left his old room but by the
morning her tears were dried up and she had greeted him with icy courtesy and
then proceeded to avoid him.
He tried cajoling and capering to make her laugh. He tried shouting. He tried
begging and pleading. He tried ignoring her in return. He even tried tears. He
told himself he could cry fake tears just to get Sansa to be friends with him
again. But the tears weren’t fake and she had turned away from him anyway.
Sansa could hold a grudge apparently. And he hated sleeping in his blasted bed
alone in his new room. It smelled funny. Well, it didn’t smell like Sansa. That
was what was wrong with it. He was cold under the covers alone and he worried
that she was probably cold as well…before he remembered that he was angry at
her. It was his decision to move rooms but he never would’ve moved if she
hadn’t touched him and made him want something that he thought he shouldn’t.
And, the part of him that had led to this unfortunate turn of events would not
leave him be now. Except now when he took himself in hand, he no longer
imagined some vague image of the widow with red hair from the naughty book but
his sister. My sister…is that wrong? He prayed on it but the gods never did
answer Robb Stark’s prayers. He wished he could ask the man servant, Old Higgs,
about such things but Old Higgs had little to say to him and how do you ask
such things?
So, Robb accepted his misery and his loneliness and wished to have his sister
be his friend and dearest companion again. He wished to have her beside him in
his bed at night to chase away the cold. And though he hated to admit it, he
wished to have her shy touch on him again.
For two days now, he’d barely laid eyes on her. He wondered if Aunt Lysa’s
madness had come upon her and she would remain in her room all day long only
emerging occasionally to hum lullabies to herself and frighten the servants.
He sat reading in the library alone when at last she returned to him.
“Robb,” she said tentatively, barely a whisper. He looked around astonished
that she had spoken his name. She was standing in the doorway to the library
and he wondered if he’d imagined her saying his name until she said it again.
“Oh, are you speaking to me now?” he asked with sudden venom. “Well, maybe I
don’t wish to speak to you anymore! How would you like that?”
“Robb…I think I may be dying,” she said in a frightened little voice that
sliced his heart in two. His petty anger evaporated at once and he rushed to
her side.
“What nonsense is this?” he asked stroking her cheek. His heart filled with
love when she nuzzled against his hand and he put his arm around her shoulders
and led her to the settee. She cried quietly into his shoulder before speaking
at last.
“I’m bleeding. I think maybe I have a tumor.”
“A tumor? What do you mean you’re bleeding? I don’t see any blood.”
“When I go to…relieve myself…there’s blood…a lot of blood and my stomach keeps
hurting.”
Robb was puzzled and concerned. He didn’t know what that could mean. “There’s a
book about ailments and remedies in here,” he said. He searched until he found
the heavy, old tome and pulled it under the lamp for them to look at it
together. Little of it made sense to the children though. It had been written
by maesters for other maesters to study, Robb thought. “There’s nothing about
the kind of bleeding you speak of in this,” he said at last.
“No,” she agreed. “I’m not certain if that’s a good thing or not.”
That night he went to Sansa’s room with her. She was embarrassed but he was
persistent and she showed him her chamber pot after she’d went to the water
closet with it. His stomach turned at all the blood he saw there.
“What do the maids say?” he asked looking away.
“Nothing…I’ve been hiding it,” she said.
Robb held his sister that night in her bed. He meant to leave once she was
asleep but he stayed because he was warm at last after so many nights of being
cold and lonely. He was so happy to have her close again but worry gnawed at
him throughout the night. I can’t lose her. She’s all I have.
The next morning, he rose before Sansa awoke and screwed up his courage to go
and seek Aunt Lysa in her wing of the house. But when he reached her room, his
courage started to flag. He could hear no sounds within and he had never been
to her room before…and he doubted he would be welcomed.
“What are you doing, boy?” the old maid servant asked startling him as his hand
had been raised to knock at last.
“My sister needs a maester,” he replied.
The old woman grasped his arm tightly, yanked him back away from Aunt Lysa’s
door and said, “Don’t be disturbing my lady so early with this. What’s wrong
with your sister?”
He told her and she had the audacity to laugh at him. She then told him to go
to his room and that their aunt would speak with Sansa. Robb paced his room for
over an hour when there was a knock at the door. He answered it and found Sansa
and the old maid on the other side.
“You’re aunt has spoken with her,” the maid said. “She is perfectly fine. She’s
had her flowering is all. Old Higgs wants your help today. He’s hurt his back
and your aunt thinks it’s time you both did more than read books and play all
day.”
Robb nodded and waited for the maid to walk away before he grasped Sansa by the
waist and pulled her into his arms. They embraced and Robb inhaled the sweet
scent of her and was so grateful that his beloved sister was not dying.
“It was just my moonblood,” she said as she blushed. “I should’ve known but it
was not how I imagined it.” Robb had heard of it. It was spoken of in some of
the books and stories he had read. He knew Sansa had read of it, too. Somehow
the way it was written of in the stories didn’t seem the same as the stark, red
blood pooled in the bottom of a white chamber pot though. “Aunt Lysa said that
I would bleed each moon when there was no babe inside of me. She said Mother
should’ve told me…but I was only six when I last saw Mother and I don’t think
Mother would’ve thought it time to tell me such a thing, do you?”
“No, dearest. We were still quite young when we came here and I think Aunt Lysa
often forgets it.”
“She said…she mentioned the changes to my body and said I must stay pure. What
did she mean by that?”
“Those romantic stories you’ve read…that one about the knight that rescues the
maid and they get married and have babies.”
“Yes, that’s one of my favorites.”
“The knight marries the maid before the children come…and when they are wed, he
comes to her bed that night to make a babe with her. And she is pure when they
marry, meaning she’s never laid with another man before. Do you understand,
princess?”
“I think so,” she said nibbling softly at her full bottom lip. “Robb?”
“Yes?”
“I always think of you as my knight.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
They were friends again and Robb could not have been happier. Four more moons
passed and they were busier than they had ever been. It was good to be busy in
the summer months. The winters would bring plenty of time to sit and ponder and
seek diversions on those dark days.
Robb helped Old Higgs, the man servant, and learned to repair things around the
estate. Old Higgs taught Robb a bit about Aunt Lysa’s auto that rarely went
anywhere and even let him drive it around the barn a time or two and terrify
the chickens and hogs. He also taught Robb how to hitch up the cart to the
estate’s remaining nag since that was the only thing Higgs drove to the village
unless Aunt Lysa asked to go which she never did anymore it seemed.
He got to travel into town more often with Old Higgs to run errands and he saw
the newspaper from time to time that spoke of the war. It seemed so far away
from them here in the Vale. And at present he was content. He had Sansa as his
dear friend and companion again and he was busy with meaningful things to do
for a change. And if he touched himself at night and thought of his sister,
what was the harm in that?
He met a couple of boys near his age in the village by chance and when he rode
on the cart with Old Higgs he would seek them out for a time if allowed. They
would kick an old ball around and the boys would tell Robb of their school. And
Robb would tell them a bit about Aunt Lysa’s estate and the tutor that came to
them five days each month….and he’d tell them of Sansa.
Robb would have liked for Sansa to get to come to the village with him more
often but she helped the old maid servant, Mrs. Jinks, most days now. There
were two other maids, Betsy and Cilla, and that was all. Sansa helped in the
kitchens, canning fruits and vegetables and learning how to make preserves. She
helped with the washing and the mending as well. And all the while Aunt Lysa
stayed in her room and hummed her lullabies.
“Robb! Come here,” one of his friends said one day as Higgs went to make a
purchase. “Look at them going at it,” Edric said laughing and pointing to two
dogs in the village green.
One dog had mounted another from behind and was biting at the other one’s back
and neck. His forepaws were still on top of the other dog and he appeared to be
rubbing himself against the other dog’s ass.
“What are they doing?” Robb asked.
“They’re fucking, stupid,” Edric said. “The bitch is in heat and the hound has
mounted her.”
“Oh,” Robb said, ashamed that he had not realized it sooner. Some things seemed
much different in books than in life.
“He’s stuck his cock in her cunny and they’ll make a litter of pups perhaps,”
Michael said mildly. He was certainly the more courteous of the two. He had
dark hair and grey eyes and an easy smile. Robb liked him better than Edric who
was coarse and crude at times.
The bitch whined and the hound bit her neck and kept moving behind her. “I
don’t think she likes it,” Robb said.
“She likes it alright, I suppose,” Michael said, “but dogs are different than
people. I don’t think you’re supposed to bite a girl if she lets you do that to
her.”
“Come along, boy,” Old Higgs said from behind the three of them. “Time to be
getting back.”
Robb nodded and followed the old man back to the cart. He thought about what
he’d seen of the dogs that afternoon and then read his favorite parts of the
naughty book again that night. When he took himself in hand that night, he
sighed his sister’s name as he came.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Two more moons passed and Sansa grew lovelier and lovelier it seemed. Her
auburn hair was long and silky and she wore it down most of the time. Her
creamy white skin would often be touched with a sweet blush when Robb greeted
her each morning and bid her goodnight in the evenings. Her dresses had become
too tight across her bust and too short to cover her legs so she made new ones
that fit her better. Her womanly figure continued to develop though Robb tried
not to look too closely. She’d made Robb new pants as his old ones were all too
short now.
Autumn was approaching and there would be a festival in the village to
celebrate the harvest in conjunction with Maiden’s Day soon. For the first
time, Robb and Sansa were told they would be permitted to attend the festival
after they went to the Sept that day. Robb only had to go to the Sept for a
short while to light a candle and offer a small gift to the Mother and the
Maid. Young unmarried men and boys his age were expected to do so for it was
said they would be blessed with a pure maiden for a wife that way and she would
bear her husband healthy sons. But maidens that had flowered spent hours at the
Sept in prayer. Sansa had to fast the entire day before the Maiden’s Day and
she was tired and listless as she climbed into the cart next to him that
morning.
“Aren’t you excited?” he asked, eager to get to the village and greet his
friends and perhaps have some ale or summer wine.
“I’ll be more excited once my time in the Sept is done and I can eat again,”
Sansa replied sourly.
Betsy and Cilla were maidens, too…or at least they claimed to be and they would
be with Sansa in the Sept so Robb was free to roam the village for a few hours
until he had to return to claim his sister. He said his prayers and offered his
gift and bid his sister good day and headed off for his taste of freedom.
The air smelled of apples and bonfires and red and golden leaves drifted along
the road at his feet. It felt marvelous to be alive and out in the world. Robb
found a stall that sold sweets and bought candies for himself and his sister to
share later. He watched men work on a new barn for the village commons and was
invited to help for a time. One of the men told gave him a small mug of ale in
thanks. He wandered off and found another stall selling roasted hens on a stick
and bought one which he wound up sharing with a friendly dog. Later, he
happened upon Edric who invited him to the tavern where his sister worked.
“Lana will serve us some summer wine,” he said. Robb grinned and was pleased.
Ale and now wine, he thought. He’d always wanted to try wine. No one served
them such at home.
The tavern appeared to be of the lower sort from what Robb could tell. It was
dirty and there were only a few men lingering at the bar. Edric led him to a
booth.
“There’s Lana,” Edric said with a wink.
Robb looked over his shoulder and spied what could only be termed a slatternly
girl. She wore no proper dress but was in a chemise and petticoat with just a
shawl around her shoulders. She had lanky, dark blond hair and green eyes like
her brother and wore too much rouge. She couldn’t have been more than a year or
two older than the boys.
“Who’s this?” she asked her brother with a grin at Robb.
“My mate, Robb. He lives with that crazy, old Arryn woman. She’s his aunt.”
“Oooh…a proper young gent then,” she said before plopping down into Robb’s lap.
“What are you doing hanging out with the likes of Edric?” she asked as her hand
caressed his chest.
“Um…we met in the village,” he said.
“Is that right?” she asked as she moved her lips close to his.
“That’s right,” he answered turning his head away when it seemed she meant to
kiss him. “I’m at the festival for the daaayyy.” He squeaked out the last as
her hand had moved down from his chest to his crotch and she’d given his cock a
squeeze.
“Sweet boy,” she cooed, running her other hand through his mop of dark auburn
curls, “never had a girl touch your cock before? I can do more than touch it if
you like.”
“No, thank you. Please, excuse me,” he said and was pleased that his voice was
back to its normal level at least. He rose from the booth, blushing furiously
that he was half-hard from her touch but managed to say, “My sister is at the
Sept and I must fetch her.”
He could hear them both laughing as he hurriedly left but he didn’t care now.
He’d read books about women like Lana and, while he was certainly curious, he
was shy of being propositioned so openly and in front of his friend which was
her brother. And he didn’t really want a girl like her anyway. There was only
one girl he wanted.
Robb made his way back to the Sept just as the bells began ringing to signify
that the maidens’ prayers were at an end. He stood outside in a small crowd
that had gathered and waited for her to appear. The sun was starting to set as
the days were already getting shorter and as Sansa stepped outside the Sept the
sun caught her hair from behind and set her lovely auburn hair on fire. She
looks like the Maid herself made flesh, Robb thought. He felt an innate sense
of pride as he looked upon his beautiful sister and, when he went to join her,
the smile that brightened her face at the sight of him lit up his world. He
stood there contemplating her for several moments until she took his arm and
her stomach growled.
“Let’s get you something to eat,” he said smiling like a fool at her.
They ran into Robb’s other friend Michael at the pie shop and Sansa was glad to
meet someone new. Michael and Sansa became acquainted with small talk as Robb
watched his sister take delicate bites of her pie. He knew she must be starved
but Sansa had always been as dainty as a little bird in her table manners.
After the pie shop, Robb shared his lemon drops with them both and Michael
bought them cider. It was not as heady as the ale from earlier. He’d never got
to taste the wine at the tavern. But Robb could feel it warming his belly and
relaxing him. Sansa laughed and giggled more than usual so he suspected it was
affecting her as well.
“Your sister is beautiful,” Michael whispered in his ear when they joined the
other villagers at the large bonfire near the green.
“I know,” Robb said, watching her dance with Cilla in the Maiden’s Dance by the
fire.
“Does she have a sweetheart?” Michael asked next.
“A…sweetheart? No,” Robb answered and wondered why he suddenly felt a sense of
unease in his belly…and why he suddenly no longer cared for Michael’s company.
“It’s good luck to kiss a maiden when the harvest moon is full,” Michael said
next as he waggled his eyebrows at Robb.
Robb opened his mouth but stood there gaping like a fish not sure of what to
say as Michael left his side and went to ask Sansa to dance with him. She
smiled and nodded her assent and Michael took his sister, his Sansa, into his
arms and spun her around the fire. And Robb smoldered with hatred for Michael.
He sulked off to find another cider…or perhaps a mug of ale. Anything was
preferable to watching the dark-haired boy hold Sansa. He wondered if he’d been
a fool to turn down Lana’s offer to do more than touch his cock, although
touching would’ve been enough. He’d like to know what it was like to have
someone else touching his cock when he came. Except, he already knew who it was
he wanted touching him down there and it was not Lana.
“Robb!” He spun on his heel at the shout and sloshed the ale he’d just bought
all down his shirt. Sansa came running up to him and there were tears in her
eyes. “I want to go home,” she said.
“What’s happened?” he asked.
“I want to go home. Can you get Old Higgs and take me home?”
“Of course, princess.”
Old Higgs was deep in his cups and Betsy and Cilla had disappeared into the
crowd making merry. Robb asked if he could take his sister home in the cart and
Higgs said he may if he promised to return for the others before long.
Robb hitched up the nag and helped Sansa up into the cart. She sat up on the
bench with him as he steered the cart out of town. She looped her arms around
his right arm and pressed her bosom against him while laying her head on his
shoulder. He laid his head against hers for a moment and pressed a kiss to the
top of her head. He was glad to be taking her home.
“What happened?” he asked once they were alone on the dark road with only the
light of the full moon to guide them.
“Michael kissed me,” she said.
“Did he?” Robb asked as his blood started to boil and he longed to return to
town and punch his friend in the jaw.
“He did but it was all my fault.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I wanted to know what it was like to be kissed and when he asked me if I’d
take a walk with him I knew what he wanted and I let him…but I shouldn’t have.”
“It’s alright, Sansa,” he said heavily, too jealous to see straight but not
wanting to hurt her in her innocence.
“No, it’s not. I wanted my first kiss to be special. It wasn’t special with him
because I felt nothing for him.” She turned to face him and whispered, “I
wanted to share my first kiss with you.”
Robb pulled the horse to a stop and looked at her. The moonlight made her blue
eyes shine like silver stags and gave a bluish cast to her red hair. Her skin
shone like alabaster.
“I’ve never kissed a girl,” he said cupping her cheek. “It would still be my
first kiss. We could pretend that the other one never happened.”
She smiled and then closed her eyes and Robb leaned forward and pressed his
lips to hers. They were soft and warm. His body was alive with a tingling
sensation racing up his spine and pooling in his groin. She broke the kiss at
last but too soon for Robb and he moaned softly at the loss of contact. She
pulled back with a grin, her breath hitching slightly as she licked her lip.
Robb wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss her again but instead he
took her hand.
“Was that more like what you wanted?” he asked.
“Yes, that was everything I’d hoped it would be,” she sighed. “Did you like
it?” she asked next with a tremulous look.
“Yes…very much,” he replied before he started the horse back into motion and
drove them the rest of the way home.
***** Chapter 3 *****
That first kiss, under the harvest moon, had seemed simple enough at the time.
Simple and yet profound. His dear sweet sis…his Sansa had wanted a kiss. Not
just a kiss, his kiss. It was easy as pie and sweet as sugar. It was the rock
of ages and the meaning of life.
And yet, there was no dynamic, seismic shift in their lives from before the
kiss till after. The heavens still turned in the sky like always. War still
raged in Westeros and the Vale was still quiet in its uneasy neutrality. That
kiss had not altered history or stopped time. They rose and dressed, broke
their fasts and attended their chores and lessons like always. But when they
were in the same room together, Robb’s eyes would stray to Sansa…and her lips.
The ruler whacked across the back of Robb’s hand unexpectedly; a harsh and
angry sting. He looked up in surprise at the tutor, Mr. Hunter, who had never
struck him before and he heard Sansa’s gasp from where she sat scratching with
her pen. Her eyes were wide and her chin trembled before she ducked her head
and returned to her work.
“Eyes on your work, boy!” Mr. Hunter said with a hard look. There was something
curious in his eye, a flare of temper that seemed uncalled for just because
Robb had been daydreaming. It was not the first time he’d grown bored and
distracted during lessons. His eyes had been on Sansa and Sansa’s sweet pink
lips. “She is your sister,” he hissed in Robb’s ear next.
I know she’s my sister. She is all I have…and I am not your boy to beat.
But, Robb rubbed his smarting hand and nodded to Mr. Hunter and continued his
lesson. When Mr. Hunter left for the day, Sansa cried and kissed his hand. It
didn’t hurt anymore though the man’s rough tone and look still stung. But Robb
said nothing and let Sansa carry on. She reached up and cupped his face.
“My poor, dear knight,” she said sweetly. “I should’ve wept if he’d done that
to me.”
“If he did that to you, I would’ve struck him,” Robb replied, already incensed
at the mere thought of anyone striking his fair Sansa.
“Oh, Robb! You mustn’t say such things and promise you will never do such a
thing! What if they were to send you away? I should die here all alone.”
He pulled her lovingly into his embrace and kissed her tears away. “No one will
send me away,” he whispered against her soft and creamy flesh. “And if they do,
you will be coming with me.” It was the first time he’d kissed her since
Maiden’s Day. His lips roamed over her cheeks, dropping gentle pecks and
collecting salty tears. He raised a hand to wipe away the remaining wetness and
pulled back to gaze into her blue, blue eyes. Her lips parted and she sighed.
He leaned forward just a fraction before she demurely turned her head. He
kissed the top of her head instead and released her. “I won’t leave you,” he
murmured before he turned and walked away.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Winter returned and with it the dark and dreary days. The roads were poor and
the cart would get stuck in the mud. Old Higgs slipped on a patch of ice and
hurt his back again and Robb was very busy helping.
But at night, the library was theirs…and they played their games in the dark.
Hide and seek and the shadow game. And on occasion…the kissing one.
Robb’s fifteenth nameday came and went and Sansa’s thirteenth soon after. No
one baked them cakes or sang them songs or gave them gifts so they did those
things for each other. Robb could not bake so he promised Sansa a special gift.
He’d worked on his carving a long while. Old Higgs had said it was a fair
representation of a wolf…for a boy’s work. “I am a man grown now,” he’d argued.
Old Higgs had laughed and called him a lad. And Robb knew Old Higgs was right.
He could not enlist until he turned seven and ten so a boy he remained.
“It’s beautiful, Robb,” she said with evident pleasure as she looked the wolf.
“What would you like to do tonight, princess? It’s your nameday. Shall we read
a story together or play a game?”
“I want to play a game,” she replied. “I want to…I want the kissing game,” she
said quietly. Robb nodded eagerly and went over to switch off the bright
overhead light off. Only the light from the fire and a tabletop lamp remained.
He saw Sansa rise from the settee and shake out her skirts. He strode back over
quickly and pulled her into his arms but she raised a hand to his chest and
pushed him back. “Not like that. You must catch me to kiss me,” she said.
“Is it like kissing hide and seek?” he asked with a playful grin, pleased that
she was changing their game a bit.
The kissing game was simple. He’d turn down the lights and they would kiss.
Sansa said it was no different than if they were practicing dancing but Robb
was not certain who or what they were practicing this for. Lips only, mouths
closed, no tongues, Sansa had decried. He’d tried that the first time, to slide
his tongue in her mouth and Sansa had said it was boorish and shoved him away.
So, the kisses were simple and chaste…and inflamed Robb all the same.
“Yes, except when you catch me, you may give me whatever sort of kiss you
like,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
“Whatever sort I…” Robb began as the blood thundered through his veins and
throbbed in his cock. “Sansa…”
“Count to one hundred,” she whispered in his ear before she gently nipped his
earlobe.
Robb counted faster than he ever had. He cheated in truth. But his cock was
rock hard at the thoughts of capturing her, kissing her and tasting her mouth
with his tongue at long last and his patience was sorely tested. He knew she’d
left the library as the door had opened and closed. He raced down the hall and
collided into Mrs. Jinks. He offered his apologies and helped her back to her
feet and then picked up all the washing she’d been carrying. He was flustered
and flushed and was certain his straining cock was evident. But the old woman
muttered darkly at him and went about her way.
High and low he searched with no sign of Sansa. He was almost ready to return
to the library. Perhaps she’d tricked him by only opening and closing the door
and she’d remained there all the while quietly laughing at him as he’d chanted,
‘One, two, skip a few, ninety-nine, one hundred.’
And then it struck him…the place she might have hidden. They were two peas in a
pod sometimes the way they knew each other’s mind. Her room…or mine.
He cracked open Sansa’s door and looked at the quiet dark of his former room,
the bed he’d slept in for years next to his sister. It smelled like her. Like
lilacs and lavender and her sweet skin. He was still welcome here though he
didn’t come to it so often. She never came to his room, it seemed. But she was
not here in her room and that left his to be explored.
He opened the door and immediately heard her breathy gasp. He could smell her
sweet scent in the air here as well.
“I’ve found you,” he said quietly.
He stalked to the closet where he knew she’d be. Sansa hated being found, he
knew…and she reveled in it, too. It always made her squeal; a slight sense of
terror, the vexation of being discovered and the thrill of being caught.
“Claim your kiss then,” she said haughtily as she threw open the closet door
before he could.
“Oh, I will,” he said as he put his hands on her upper arms and pulled her to
him. He kissed her lips hungrily and with rough need. She was stiff as a board
in his arms at first and her lips were pursed as though he were a frog. He
pulled back and let go of her arms. “I thought you wanted to play. If you don’t
want my kisses, we’ll stop.”
She apparently had not expected that and she stopped him from leaving with a
hand at his elbow. “I do. I’m sorry to tease. I wanted to play and now I’m
being…” She wrung her hands and looked at the floor. “I’m sorry, Robb.”
“There is no pressure here,” he said, though his cock might beg to differ. “Our
games are for us and us alone. If you do not like them, say so.”
Sansa did not speak but instead stepped up to him. She put her hands on his
shoulders and stood on tip toe to reach his lips. “I want your kiss,” she said.
“I just want it more gently.”
He let her lips mold against his own and enjoyed the softness of Sansa’s touch.
He kept his hands down by his side. He would not give her any reason to retreat
though he would’ve liked to pull her up against him. They stopped to draw
breath.
“I like these kisses,” he said.
“Me, too. Robb, what kind of kiss did you want?”
“With my tongue,” he said, hoping she might consent.
“I’d like to try,” she prompted.
He leaned in to softly kiss her lips once more. He flicked his tongue along the
seam of lips and she parted them for him. His tongue explored the wet, warmth
of her mouth. He could taste the hint of onion from their broth and a sweetness
that was Sansa. Her tongue moved against his own and Sansa was falling…falling
into him. His arms that had remained steadfastly by his sides moved up and
caught her and pulled her close. She dipped her chin and Robb angled his mouth
to kiss her deeper with mouths wide open now and tongues crossing into each
other’s mouths, not knowing where one ended and the other began. His arms moved
from her arms to her back and then down to her backside. He pressed her lower
body to his erect cock and groaned at the contact as Sansa gasped. He kept
kissing her and pressing her against him. He rubbed against her and she did not
stop him. The sweet ache was building so rapidly but when she moaned he was
completely undone.
“Robb…I like this.”
“Gods, Sansa…I…unn-ughh,” he cried out as he felt the wetness in his small
clothes.
“Robb?” she questioned when he jerked away with shame.
“I’m sorry, Sansa. You do that to me…but it’s my fault. I’m a lustful boy.”
“Why be sorry?” she asked. “I liked it.”
She didn’t know. She didn’t know his seed was soaking through his small clothes
and pants and that he wished it was covering her instead. “It’s not proper.”
“Your…cock,” she whispered the word, “is hard but I don’t see how it’s not
proper. I’ve felt it when it’s hard before. Your body does that on its own,
yes?”
“Yes…but I’m not supposed to…you must stay pure for when you marry.”
“Who will ever marry me, Robb? We never see anyone else.”
I’d marry you. He did not speak the words though for he knew that brothers and
sisters did not marry each other. Why that was he could not say for certain.
The things they’d been taught when they were little seemed so far away now and
he couldn’t remember ever being told why brothers did not marry their sisters.
“I need privacy, Sansa,” he said next. “I need to use the water closet.”
She nodded and started to go. “Will you return to the library with me after?”
“No…not tonight, princess.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
He did return the next night though and as the winter nights passed the kissing
game changed again. They kept it to the library and kissed in the dark but
first Robb had to catch Sansa or sometimes Sansa had to catch Robb. He liked
that, too. He liked for her to chase him sometimes but nothing thrilled him
quiet as much as the way she would squeal when he captured her and pulled her
to him. He liked the way she could not escape his arms when she would try and
flee. Sometimes she was frustrated by that, other times she’d struggle but if
he started to let her go she’d whispered, “Tighter,” and then continued to act
as though she wanted to get away.
Robb asked if they could read together one night and he brought out the naughty
book of the solider and the widow. Sansa squirmed in his lap as they kissed
that night afterwards. They had only read three chapters. The second chapter
was where the kissing started and in the third, the widow brought the soldier
to a release by rubbing against him on her bed while they were clothed.
“What kind of a release do they mean, Robb?”
“A wet one,” he said. He laughed at his sister’s confusion and tried to
explain.
“Could we try it?” Sansa murmured in his ear as she sat on his lap with her
fingers carding through his curls.
“Gods, yes,” he answered, delighted to try something from the book at last.
“Here…like this,” he instructed as he pressed his back into the settee and
turned her to face him. “Straddle my lap, like you would a horse. Put your legs
on either side of me.” She did as he bid and he quickly kissed her and then
pulled her by the hips down to meet him.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “It feels…nice,” she said as he pressed her to his groin
and rubbed his hardened cock against her.
“Yes,” he whimpered. “You feel so good against me.” He started to rock into her
and she responded. They kissed with tongue and teeth and lips as they found a
rhythm of moving together and yet against each other, too. “Sansa…Sansa…” he
said, watching her face intently. Her mouth was open and her brow was wrinkled
in concentration.
“Robb,” she moaned. “There…right there…don’t stop moving.” He kept rubbing
himself against her and wanted to pull his cock out of his pants so that he
could avoid a mess in his smallclothes again. But he would not break their
rhythm now. “Ohhhh…Robb…” Sansa cried. “Arrr…unnn…uhhh…it feels…gods! Oh, gods!
Yes!”
He felt her shudder and then she seemed to melt into him. “Sansa…did you
just…did you come?” You made your sister come.  Michael had used that term
once...or was it Edric? ‘She is yoursister,’ Mr. Hunter had hissed.
“Come? What does that mean? Oh, it felt so nice,” she sighed. “Like I was a
feather being swept up on a breeze but I liked it. I felt free and out of
control, too. I felt tight and warm and tingly all at the same time. Is that
what it’s like with you?”
Robb had never put it into such lyrical words before. He’d never thought to put
it into words at all really. He just knew he liked it…he liked it a good deal.
“I suppose so,” he answered.
“Didn’t you feel the same?” she asked.
“I didn’t…I didn’t get there yet.”
“How do you know?”
“I know,” he answered shortly.
She started peppering him with kisses, along his brow and down his nose. “Shall
we continue?” she asked.
He wanted to but she seemed sated now and something was gnawing at his
belly…something like guilt. “That’s alright, Sansa. I think I’ll go to bed.”
“Robb, I’m thirteen now, a woman grown and flowered.”
“You’re still a girl, Sansa, just as Old Higgs says I’m a boy.”
“But…could we lay together in the bed now, like before? You could be my knight
and I could…”
He shook his head but kissed her gently on the brow. “Good night, Sansa,” he
said. He sought the privacy of his room. Her moans and touch would play over in
his mind while he stroked himself in the dark. And there was no shame in it
there.
 
The next morning, Mrs. Jinks came to Robb’s door. “Your aunt wants to speak to
you, boy.”
Robb rose and dressed hurriedly, his stomach in knots of apprehension. Aunt
Lysa never called for them. Did she know what they’d done in the library last
night? Did she find Robb’s naughty book? He’d accidently left it laying out in
his hurry to flee from Sansa. What does she want?
Sansa met him in the hall and her eyes were wide. He clasped her hand and said
not to worry. She gave him a brave smile and they walked to their aunt’s wing
of the house with their heads held high. We have each other. There is nothing
to fear.
They knocked on Aunt Lysa’s door and were bid to enter. It was still dark in
her chambers though the sun was well up. The curtains were all drawn and the
room was stale smelling. It smelled like cheap perfume and body odor…and wine.
Aunt Lysa was wearing her usual garments. A shift and stays with a floral-
patterned robe over all. She peered at them myopically through her reading
glass.
“Come in. Sit,” she ordered. “My, you are getting tall, Robb.”
“Yes, Aunt Lysa,” he answered.
“Sansa…you look more and more like Cat each time I see you.” Sansa looked like
she would flush with pleasure to be compared to their mother but the strange
look in their aunt’s eye kept her from it. “Mr. Hunter has said he will not be
able to come and tutor you both anymore.” Robb sighed with relief. Other than
the incident with the ruler, he had liked the man well enough but he was glad
this wasn’t something more serious. They could teach themselves if need be or
perhaps Aunt Lysa would hire another tutor. “I think it’s high time you both go
to school for a time.”
“The village school?” Sansa asked excitedly. Robb glanced at his sister and
they exchanged a happy smile. The village school was small and poor but they
might make friends there. And all the children sat in the same room from the
youngest to the eldest.
“The village school?” Aunt Lysa laughed, a bitter sort of sound. “No, silly
girl. No niece and nephew of mine would attend that rag-a-muffin place. I’m
sending you to a proper school for young ladies. Your brother will go to a very
good school for young gentlemen that Mr. Hunter recommended.”
“We won’t be at the same school?” Robb asked.
“Of course not. Young ladies and young gentlemen don’t attend the same boarding
schools.”
“Boarding school? But…will we be coming home on the weekends?” Sansa asked.
“No, children. You’ll come here during school breaks in the winter and summer.”
“When will we go?” Robb asked hollowly. “It’s mid-term already. We’ll be behind
everyone else.”
“I’ve rang the school yesterday and arranged everything. Both schools were
willing to take you mid-term. You’ll leave on the train tomorrow, Robb, for
Gulltown. Sansa, you’ll leave next week for Maidenpool.”
The room seemed to spin and Robb felt he might stagger. He wanted to argue but
Sansa started to weep and he had to hold her. Aunt Lysa scowled and held her
head. She asked them to please not make a racket and leave her in peace for a
change. And, Robb led his weeping sister from the room and wondered what they
could possibly do.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Summary
     Some Sansa POV at last. If this chapter had a title, I'd call it
     'Enlightenment.' Both Robb and Sansa learn some things and make some
     friends while they're at away at school.
Chapter Notes
     Many of my characters are originals in this because I just didn't
     want to have to guess 'oh, who would work for this or who would fit
     this role?' I just preferred it that way but there is one major
     exception in this chapter ;)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The train rattled along the tracks and Sansa gripped the armrest of her seat
like a vise. She had not been on a train since they had come to the Vale when
she was six and she’d been with Robb then. She had always been with Robb. He
was the only true constant in her life, the only thing that truly mattered.
Father was only a vague notion and he had left to fight when she was quite
small. Mother was just a flicker of a memory now and she had sent them on their
journey to Aunt Lysa’s. It was hard to remember her face properly. There must
have been some photographs or miniatures somewhere of Ned and Catelyn Stark but
their children did not possess them. Sansa imagined that everything that
remained of them had been burnt to cinders the night her mother had died in
Riverrun.
Winterfell was their home supposedly but Sansa had not seen it in so long. She
wondered if the grand house still stood and if there were any Starks living
there. She doubted it. Our uncles are dead, our Aunt Lyanna is, too. We’re the
only living Starks. Who cares for the house now? Or is it nothing but a pile of
ash and rubble, too?
These thoughts were a melancholia that plagued her from a young age though she
hadn’t known what to call it then. But she had Robb. He was her light in the
dark of night. He was her knight, her best friend and confidante and…her
beloved. Sansa did not think it was wrong to think of him that way but she
instinctively knew better than to speak of it to others.
Their games in the dark had changed as they headed on into adolescence and her
feelings for Robb had evolved into something more akin to what Sansa imagined a
lady felt for her knight. And Robb is my knight.
But then Mr. Hunter had left and Aunt Lysa had finally decided to do something
with them. She had decided to send them away. Everything Sansa had known and
trusted had been swept from her in a matter of minutes. And, Robb had done
nothing. He’d sworn he would never leave her. He’d said that if he had to leave
that she would go with him. But he’d left a week ago and left her behind. She
hated him for that. He had lied, just like Mother and Father before him.
Everyone leaves me.
Part of her heart knew that this was unfair. He was a boy just as she was a
girl and adults didn’t care about their tears and did what they wanted with
children. But she thought somehow her knight would put a stop to this madness.
And instead he’d meekly bade her farewell, his eyes full of unshed tears and
his jaw clenched in distress as she wept and begged him not to go.
“Here’s Maidenpool, love,” the porter said with a benevolent smile as the train
began to slow down at last.
“Thank you,” she said in a steady voice though she felt ready to burst into
tears.
The end of another journey with nothing but uncertainty at the end of it. And
this time, there was no Robb by her side.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“Come on, you cunt! Fight!” a boy screamed in Robb’s ear as he was shoved back
into the center of the circle.
His opponent was a boy of sixteen who was larger by far than Robb. He had taken
an instant dislike to Robb for reasons that Robb could not fathom. Perhaps no
reason was needed other than that he was the new boy and as such he had been on
the receiving end of all the hazing for the past two weeks. His eyes had been
blackened more than once and his ribs ached. He thought one or two of them
might be cracked and his left hand had been smashed in a doorway just
yesterday. The professors all looked the other way as long as the fights didn’t
happen under their noses and Robb had been admonished for carrying tales and
being an informer when he’d tried to seek some help from them. It was expected
that boys would learn the rougher lessons of life along with their academic
pursuits at Gulltown’s Academy for Young Gentlemen.
His limited experiences with the boys from the village hadn’t prepared him for
this. He and Edric and Michael had occasionally engaged in teasing one another
and playful shoving. He’d even seen Edric fight another village boy once but
nothing like this.
Robb raised his fists once more for there was little else he could do unless he
wished to be thrown to the ground and kicked and stomped again. But he was no
pugilist. No books had taught him how to fight like this. The bigger boy,
Roland, threw another punch which Robb managed to dodge this time. He threw his
own punch which managed to connect with Roland’s jaw. He let out a furious
bellow and Robb gasped at how his knuckles ached from the punch. Roland then
rushed him and fell onto of him on the ground, leaving Robb pinned and nearly
helpless to the onslaught.
“Creech is coming!” someone yelled and the fists that had been raining down
like a fury ceased and the knees that had been pressing into Robb’s chest
disappeared.
Creech was old and surly and the only professor that ever punished boys for
fighting and the others all scattered if he came along to interrupt their fun.
Robb lay on the ground grateful for the professor’s intervention even if he was
scolded for fighting.
“Here,” the same voice said.
Robb could see a hand in his face vaguely and the outline of someone with curly
hair. He thought of Michael and wondered when the boy from the village had
arrived in Gulltown. But it wasn’t Michael of course. He took the hand and
stood up gingerly.
“Thank you,” Robb said as the boy passed him a rag for his bloody nose.
He blotted his face and looked again to see who had come to his aid. It was the
groundskeeper’s boy. All the school’s boys called him the Bastard though Robb
couldn’t see how he’d be a bastard if he was the groundskeeper’s boy. He looked
to be the same age as Robb.
“You should go and see the nurse,” the boy said.
“Where’s Creech?” Robb asked looking around dazedly. “I thought…”
“I only said that to get them to leave. They’re all stupid arseholes who
scatter like roaches when they think that old man’s around.”
“Oh. Why did you do that?”
“I thought you’d taken more than enough beatings by now. Was I mistaken?” he
asked with one eyebrow cocked and a devilish smile.
Robb laughed though it hurt and he grasped his ribs. “I see. Sorry I didn’t
realize.”
“It’s alright.”
“Why would you help me though? I figured you must hate us all with you
being…well, the groundskeeper’s bastard and all.”
The boy’s face grew sullen at that and he scowled, “I helped you because…it’s
not fair the way they’ve been with you. It’s gone on well past an initial bit
of hazing. I thought…it seemed like the right thing to do. But perhaps I’ll
mind my business from now on and let my betters do as they see fit with you.”
“No! Please…I’m sorry. I’m new here. I know no one and I’ve never been at
school like this before and I should like…I should like to thank you properly
instead of sounding like an arrogant ass. Thank you…what is your name?”
“Jon.”
“I’m Robb Stark. Do you have a last name, Jon?”
“Yes,” he said but he did not give it. “You can keep that,” he said indicating
the rag before he turned to walk away. “You may need it again.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“Fibber, you did not!” Lucy shrieked with her cruel laughter.
“I did, too!” Emily protested.
Sansa sat on Jeyne’s bed and listened as the older girls told stories of their
first kisses and whether or not they had used their tongues. Miss Mayweather’s
School for Young Ladies held approximately twenty-five girls ranging in age
from ten to seven and ten. The great girls held court each night in the room
designated for the girls aged thirteen and up. The younger girls, the little
ones as they were disdainfully called, had a separate room. Sansa was curious
about the things the older girls discussed though she would practice her
embroidery on Jeyne’s bed and pretend not to be listening.
Lucy was seventeen and almost ready to leave the school. She also called
everyone a fibber who claimed to have done any kissing besides herself…except
for Clarissa who she called a whore.
Clarissa was sixteen and Sansa liked her though it would not do to show it.
Clarissa was unpopular because she was the smartest of the pupils, outshining
all the other girls which Lucy could not abide. But Clarissa was also unpopular
because she would get in a rage at times and grow violent. Thus, Lucy and the
other great girls rarely said their spiteful things to her face. There were
whispers though that Clarissa was not pure. That she had known a man…in that
way. Sansa wasn’t sure exactly what ‘that way’ was but she was curious.
“What about you, Little Dove?” Lucy asked Sansa turning her sharp eyes on her.
Sansa hated that name but she had accepted that there were worse nicknames to
be called, whore being one of them.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I wasn’t listening,” Sansa said not wishing to be included
in this discussion.
She did not like to lie but she didn’t wish to be called a fibber either. She
hated calling Lucy ‘ma’am’ but she wanted to be left alone. But playing along
and doing what she was told had made the past month here tolerable at least.
“Have you ever kissed a boy?” Lucy asked. The older girls in Lucy’s group were
all watching her intently and smirking.
“Go on. You can tell us, Little Dove,” Emily said.
Jeyne who was her friend and thirteen, too, gave her an encouraging nod. Of
course, Jeyne had never kissed a boy and when she’d told them as much they’d
laughed at her and called her a child but then left her alone.
“I have,” Sansa said quietly and she returned her attention to her embroidery.
“Fibber!” Emily shouted.
But Lucy did not join her in the taunt. She rose from her chair by the fire and
walked over to where Sansa sat. She took Sansa by the chin and tilted her head
up to face her. Lucy was quite tall and Sansa was seated. She did not like the
way Lucy looked down at her with her green cat-like eyes.
“What was his name?” Lucy asked softly. Sansa did not answer at first and tried
to avert her eyes. “Answer, Little Dove,” she said again sharply while pinching
her chin now. 
Robb. “Michael.” There. It is not a lie.
“More than once?”
“Leave her alone,” Clarissa said from her bed. “Go play your stupid games with
your admirers and let the girl be.” Lucy gave Clarissa a contemptuous look and
returned to her friends. She whispered something and they all laughed and cast
nasty looks at Sansa. “Pay them no mind, Sansa. I’d wager all of them lie about
their experiences with boys, either they deny what they have done or they
invent what they haven’t,” Clarissa said with her head held high.
Sansa nodded and continued her needlework. She was making a handkerchief for
Robb. She had decided to forgive him. Things at school were not ideal but she
liked Jeyne at least and she liked her classes. And at least the adults here
did not ignore her existence.
He had written her a letter that she had received a few nights ago. She had
already sent a response. Perhaps like this we can not feel so terribly alone.
Her heart had pounded when she had been handed his letter and she felt her face
grow hot to read his words. Her finger trailed along the dried ink picturing
his rough but also gentle hand as it moved the pen across the paper.  Robb...I
miss you so.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“What’s she like? Your girl?” Jon asked.
Robb looked up from the letter he was composing to Sansa while sitting outside
on the fine spring morning to find Jon standing behind him.
“My girl?”
“The one you’re always writing to.”
“Oh, Sansa. She’s…” my sister. “She’s pretty and smart. She has red hair and
blue eyes.”
“I like redheads,” Jon grinned. “She sounds pretty. Does she live in your
village?”
“Yes.” In our aunt’s house with me.
“Is that why you don’t like it here?”
“Yes…well, and I don’t like the other fellows. Except for you.”
“I’m not one of the students though,” Jon said with a sigh as he sat down.
“If Willem is not your father, how did you come to be here?”
“Willem knew my mother. She died when I was very little, a baby I think and he
took me in.”
“Oh. And will you be a groundskeeper like him someday?”
“Perhaps. But once I come of age I mean to enlist.”
“To fight?”
“Yes.”
“Which side?”
“The North. My mother was from the North.”
“My family was, too. Well, my mother’s family was from the Riverlands but they
fought for the North as you probably know before they were beaten.”
“We could enlist together,” Jon said. “But I suppose if I had a pretty girl
waiting for me, I might not wish to.”
“Well, I’m not sure she will be able to wait for me.”
“Why? Does she not return your affections? Or is she above you?”
“She’s…” my sister. “It’s complicated.”
Robb wished there was some way he could tell the truth to Jon. That he was in
love with Sansa…who was his sister. He missed her so much. He had ached for her
comfort and sweet words the first few abysmal weeks here. It wasn’t much better
now but it was an ache he was becoming familiar with.
He knew how angry and hurt she’d been that he’d not been able to stop Aunt Lysa
from sending them both away. But what could they do? Run away? A fifteen-year-
old boy and a thirteen-year-old girl with no money and very little practical
knowledge of the world.
Robb hoped her own experiences at school were better than his. She spoke of two
friends in her letters and seemed content. And he wrote of Jon in his
sometimes. He didn’t want her to think he had no friends. There were classmates
that he got along with now but Jon was the only boy here that seemed to
understand his misery….even if he didn’t know the exact nature of his misery.
The other night, quite by chance, one of the boys spoke of a story from the
past about a Targaryen king and his three sisters who were also his wives.
“That’s foul, that is,” said one of the older boys. Many nodded their heads in
agreement. “No wonder the Dragons have all nearly died out. Didn’t they know if
you swive your sister you wind up with two-headed babies?”
“Maybe that’s why their sigil was a three-headed dragon. The dragon didn’t have
three heads. The babies did,” Roland had said causing a great roar of laughter.
Robb said nothing but he could not finish his letter to Sansa that night. He
felt shame for the way he felt about her. And though he’d tried to fool himself
back then, he now knew that no one would think their games they had played in
the dark were proper. At least not the kissing one.
“Jon?” he asked before the boy could rise and return to his work. “Have you
ever thought about the Targaryens and the way they married their siblings.”
Jon gave him a sharp look and said angrily, “Why would you ask me that?!”
“I was just curious and…”
“I’ve work to do,” Jon said before he turned and he sulked off.
Robb pressed his hands to his eyes. Jon could be so techy at times about some
things and yet completely untroubled by some of the things the boys said of
him. And Robb never understood why exactly. Many of the boys said the Bastard
and Stark must be in love and said very crude things but Robb ignored them just
as Jon always did. I am a Stark. Their foolish words cannot hurt me. Why should
a question about the Targaryens trouble his friend?
Robb shrugged and returned to his letter.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Sansa laid back in the tub and let Clarissa braid her hair. Clarissa liked her
hair. She said it was soft as silk and the color of a merry fire. She said lots
of pleasing things when they were alone and Sansa was grateful for the older
girl’s friendship.
“The boy you kissed, Sansa…did you like him? Did you want his kiss?” she asked
out of nowhere.
“I…I had just met him that day. I liked him fine until he kissed me and then I
went to find my brother.”
“Did he force his kiss on you?”
“Not exactly…though I wasn’t really wanting it, I didn’t fight or pull away
either.”
“That’s how it was for me,” Clarissa said sadly.
“Was he a boy from your village or…”
“He was my guardian and thrice my age.”
“Oh!” Sansa said covering her mouth in shock.
“You are very young, my love. Perhaps you’ve not heard of incestuous families,”
Clarissa whispered in her ear as she finished braiding Sansa’s hair and started
gently massaging her shoulders.
Sansa slowly shook her head and listened to the things Clarissa told her. She
turned her head away at last when Clarissa ran out of words. Clarissa was not
pure. She had been soiled by another. A man who was her protector and a
relation of some sort. She called him her uncle though she said she thought he
may have been a cousin of sorts.
Sansa sprang out of the bath just as the older girl leaned forwards as if to
embrace her.
“Do you not like me now?” Clarissa asked, plainly hurt by Sansa’s sudden wish
to escape her company.
“No…it’s not that. I’m sorry. I need to go to bed,” she said awkwardly wishing
to escape Clarissa’s attentions and words.
June was approaching and with it, the train that would return her to Aunt
Lysa’s…and Robb. What are we to do? He is my everything and everything I want.
And everything I want is wrong.
Chapter End Notes
     So, Robb and Sansa have questioned if the nature of their feelings
     for each other are wrong but they have finally begun to see how
     distasteful the world in general would view their love and
     attraction. We'll see how they handle it when they are requited next
     chapter.
     And...enter Jon. I wanted him to be Robb's friend here, especially as
     his character worked for a boy that would be willing to help a
     picked-on Robb just as he helped Sam Tarly. And while Robb might've
     been able to stand up for himself far better than Sam, it's tough to
     be the new boy and be ganged up on.
     Thanks for reading!
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Summary
     The Stark siblings are home for the summer. Starts with Robb's POV
     but mostly Sansa's this time.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
What has happened?
Robb was confused and becoming irritated when he knew he shouldn’t be.
Sansa had greeted him warmly when Old Higgs had brought him home from the train
station in Aunt Lysa’s car. They had talked and talked that night after supper
in the library. They’d laughed and held hands and teased one another. And Robb
thought the moons they’d spent apart might not even have happened at all. But
then when he went to kiss her, she pulled away.
“Good night, Robb,” she said nervously before she swiftly left the room.
It was no different the next day or the next. Sansa would speak with him as
before, his dearest companion and closest confidante. But, while holding hands
or embracing was fine, if he tried to kiss her even just on the forehead or
cheek she would deny him.
There was no pretending now. She knew. She knew now that the things they had
been doing before their separation were wrong and she wished to stop those
things. She would be a sister to him only and give him sisterly affection. And
she would deny him the other sort.
It shamed him.
It angered him.
It inflamed him.
Is this not right? She is my sister. We can no longer claim ignorance or
innocence about where our kisses were headed. Why am I angry that Sansa has
gained knowledge while away? That she has decided to do what is natural rather
than to pursue something that the world would call a sin?
He remembered the night so many moons ago when they’d rocked against each other
while their clothes were on, Sansa straddling his crotch until she found her
release. He pictured her face when she reached her peak while astride him. He
often pictured her thus when he came.
That night, Sansa had wanted to continue and he had put a stop to things. And
now, she was the one putting a stop to things and he hated it…and hated himself
for hating it.
Robb did not have all day to worry over these changes though for Old Higgs said
he needed his help around the estate.
“You’ll be bored sitting inside with the women all day. And your aunt doesn’t
realize how hard some work comes for an old man. I hope you don’t mind, boy,”
the old man said.
“My aunt does not realize a good many things and I do not mind,” Robb
responded. Anything to find an occupation. To keep my mind and hands busy.
And, Robb tried very hard to ignore what he felt for his beloved sister. He
spent many long hours with Old Higgs around the estate or running errands to
the village. Anything to keep lust and desire in check. Anything to distract
his aching heart.
He found he missed Jon’s company. He missed his friend’s quiet way of speaking
to him about the things that boys liked. Jon was broody at times but he was
kind-hearted in many ways. His mind was sharp and he often surprised Robb with
his sometimes witty, sometimes profound observations.
Edric had went to work in a factory and Michael had found a job at the dairy.
And both looked at him differently than the last time they’d seen him when he
was headed off to school. They were becoming men earlier than him even though
they were so close in age.
They were working to help support their families and Robb was a school boy
spending his summer on his aunt’s estate. He spent his day’s being bossed
around by an old servant and his nights dreaming of his fair sister. He longed
to take her out in the old cart on a ride beneath the stars and kiss her sweet
lips again as though they were just a normal boy and girl.
Aunt Lysa would probably have pointed out that all three of them; Jon, Edric
and Michael, were beneath him if she’d been aware of them at all. But Aunt
Lysa’s notions of such things were falling out of fashion and Robb had no mates
that were of his ‘station.’
So, he wrote to Jon. He did not know if he would answer but wrote all the same.
It was with pleasure that he received a reply within a few days of that first
letter.
Jon’s letters were amusing and friendly and often to the point. Sansa asked
what had pleased him so the morning the first letter arrived and so he told
her. Soon, he would always read her passages of Jon’s letters when he received
one as they sat together in the library at night.
That had not changed. They didn’t play their games. They no longer kissed. But
at night, they sat together and talked. He was often tired from his day’s
labors but he would put off bedtime as long as possible to spend an hour in her
company.
He told her of the bastard boy, the groundskeeper’s boy and how he had helped
him and befriended him when no one else at school did. He told her how so many
of the boys had treated him when he was new and told her that for all of Jon’s
tetchiness at times, he was the kindest of any of them.
Sansa cried of course to learn the full extent of the beatings and humiliations
he’d received in his early days. And she swore she would love Jon for all her
days for coming to his rescue. Robb wasn’t sure he liked that.
“My poor, dear Robb. Why would those boys be so awful to you?”
“It’s not so terrible now,” he said though he wore a pout and allowed her to
stroke his hair. “I wound up making some friends before the break but Jon is my
only true friend there.”
“I am glad for you to have him at least,” she said.
He laid his head in her lap and knew he was being childish but allowed himself
to fall asleep there as she ran her hands through his curls. If he could not
have her kisses, couldn’t he at least have her comfort?
She woke him later and helped guide him to his room. He tried to get her to
stay with him and even offered to play the shadow game trying to tempt her. She
smiled sweetly and refused. She gave him a soft and sisterly kiss on the cheek
and left him at his door.
It was such a reverse from their previous relationship and it stung his pride.
How many times had he carried or guided a sleepy Sansa to her bed?
He would not be a child. He had been her knight. He had been her hero. He was
her big brother.
She is two years younger than me and she is doing what is right. I must behave
like a brother to her and stop longing for things that cannot be.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Robb had been cross. He wanted kisses…and maybe more. But, the more they
kissed, the closer they would come to that ‘more.’ Sansa instinctively knew
this much now.
Sansa did not like to deny him but knew she must. She had liked his kisses. She
had loved his kisses and alone at night she still thought of them. It had been
well enough when she was still an ignorant little girl but that was before…
The things Clarissa had shared weighed heavy on her mind and conscience.
She had not told Robb much of her friends other than their names. She mostly
rattled on about Jeyne. Jeyne was easy. There was nothing to tell about Jeyne
really but the girl talked and talked about her home and family. There was
plenty that Sansa could easily say of Jeyne.
The things Clarissa told her though…she was afraid to share with Robb.
“Do you know how babes are made, my love?” Clarissa had asked the last night
they were together before summer began.
Sansa had nodded but then bit her lip and shook her head. “A little.”
“Do you want to know?”
“Yes…I think,” Sansa had answered.
What would Robb think of this? Sansa had wondered. She knew he probably knew
far more than her but she wondered if he knew it all and what he would think of
Clarissa.
That night, she’d learned of maiden’s blood and the pain she would feel when
she lost her maidenhead. Those things seemed frightening enough though Clarissa
had said they were transitory and not to be minded for long.
Then, Clarissa had spoken of the act that Sansa had only had a vague notion of
before. She seemed completely unmoved by it when she spoke. She said it wasn’t
pleasant but it didn’t hurt after the first time or two. It pleased her
guardian though and he spoke sweet words when he was inside her body.
“He was always gentle. He would beg my pardon when it hurt. But after the first
few times, I never felt anything. I would close my eyes and wait for him to
finish. It didn’t normally take long. I learned that if I made certain noises
it went quicker.” She liked to please him. “I prefer for people to like me than
otherwise. Well, I liked him to like me. He was all I had after all.”
“Robb is all I have,” Sansa had whispered.
She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Clarissa said, “But he is your
brother, trueborn and noble from what you have said. He’s nothing like my
guardian,” she’d said bitterly. “You’re lucky, Sansa…your brother’s love is a
pure thing.”
Is it? Am I still pure? I am…but I shouldn’t want him or his kisses. I
shouldn’t want to touch his…cock. There, I can say the word now. I shouldn’t
think of him when I touch myself either.
“Are you sure it’s not better…under more usual circumstances?” she asked when
Clarissa finished by expressing her disdain at how novels and people went on
and on about the pleasures of the nuptial bed. “My brother…he had a naughty
book and I read it. There were several parts where the woman liked what they
were doing together, same as the man.”
“Sansa, did you read that book with your brother?”
Yes and we acted out part of it together. I want to act out more parts though
but I know that I am wrong to want that.
“No.”
“Well, I am older than you and, while my experience has been a…an unusual one,
I fear that those kinds of stories are made up. I don’t think we’re meant to
enjoy those things…not with men,” she had said. Then, she had cupped Sansa’s
cheek. She’d leaned in and rubbed Sansa’s nose against her own. It was
sweet…and yet it had made Sansa feel odd and embarrassed.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Summer passed by more quickly than Sansa ever could’ve imagined. Robb was
always off with Old Higgs or off to the village it seemed so she made herself
useful to Mrs. Jinks and the maids.
She started attending the Sept with Betsy who was growing round with child and
wore no wedding band. Betsy cried a lot and attended the Sept a good deal.
Sansa felt sorry for her. She was a good girl but now people in the village
gave her cold stares or whispered together and laughed behind her back.
Is this what girls must face when they fail to stay pure? Is anyone laughing or
giving cross looks at the boy that got her this way?
Sansa worried for her though Mrs. Jinks said that Aunt Lysa in her goodness had
agreed to allow Betsy to continue working once the child was born and sent to
the foundling home.
As if she’s even aware of Betsy’s condition…which I doubt. And if she is, is my
aunt truly so cruel? She may stay and keep her job but only if she gives up her
child? Has the world no pity?
Sansa feared for Betsy…and feared a fate like hers. She thought of Clarissa,
too. What if her guardian had got her with child? What would have happened to
her…to the child?
What if Robb got me with child?  The thought frightened her but surprisingly,
it also made her tummy twist and flip in a happy sort of way. Robb would never
abandon me and let others laugh or say cruel things, she thought for a happy
moment. Until she remembered what others would think if it were known that it
was her own brother that had defiled her. They would hate us both. We would be
vilified for our love. They would call our child an abomination.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
September was coming soon and they had managed to maintain a perfectly
appropriate relationship all summer. They talked and laughed. They played jokes
on one another. He was an ideal elder brother.
Certainly, there were times when a shadow passed between them, when Robb’s
hungry eyes could not be mistaken for anything other than what they were. It
made Sansa shiver. It made her moan alone in her bed a few times when she
touched the spot she had found that gave pleasure…or a promise of pleasure, a
dizzy kind of heat inside.
Rarely a night passed in the library when he did not look at her longingly at
some point. The intensity of those blue eyes boring into her and making her
want things she’d tried to convince herself she didn’t want anymore. But he had
stopped trying to kiss her many weeks ago. And why did that please her and vex
her, too?
Despite her efforts, she looked at him with longing, too. He grew more handsome
with every passing day. He’d started having to shave his face regularly. She
wondered what he would look like with a beard. Sansa had a vague memory of her
father with a beard. She thought she would like to see Robb with one.
His chest grew broader, his muscles were well defined now from his labor all
summer. There was a serious cast to his face. The laughter had not left his
eyes completely but he was harder, leaner, stronger…nearly a man in truth now.
He would be sixteen on his nameday which was not so far off but he would be
returning to school before then and so would she. It pained her to think this
would be the first time she would miss his nameday. She would not be able to
bake him a cake…or give him a kiss.
Jon had wrote regularly all summer. Robb had stopped reading her passages and
simply handed his letters over as soon as Robb had read them. Sansa liked that.
Jeyne had written a time or two but her letters were vapid and full of silly
gossip that meant nothing to Sansa since it was all about people she didn’t
know and likely never would.
She liked the boy who wrote to her brother. He did not write long letters but
they were kind and sincere beneath the boyish banter that often made Sansa
giggle. Did all boys talk this way to each other? She liked to think so.
Sansa tried to imagine what Jon’s voice might sound like. She had asked Robb to
describe him to her so she could picture his friend. Robb had asked why that
should matter. She’d answered if a person’s letters made you feel like you
already knew them, wasn’t it nice to know what they looked like? He’d teased
her for that and she’d hit him with a cushion.
She shared Jeyne’s letters as well. Robb said she sounded a bit silly which
wasn’t very nice but Sansa acknowledged there was some truth to that. Robb had
asked what she looked like after the night she’d asked about Jon.
“She’s pretty. She has big brown eyes and dark hair.”
“She sounds nice…pretty,” he said casually.
Why did that anger her?
She thought she knew why but refused to think on it that night.
 
Two nights later, they sat companionably together in the library after dark.
Sansa was stitching a nameday gift for him, a fresh set of handkerchiefs and
she had made some for Jon as well.
“Why’d you make any for him?” Robb asked huffily from the sofa where he sat
across from her as she worked on the new sewing machine Mrs. Jinks had helped
her learn how to work.
“Because he’s your friend and, as your sister, I am grateful that you have a
friend. Just glad that anyone tolerates you honestly,” she teased.
He laughed then and strode across the room to kiss the top of her head. She
stiffened but only for an instant. Robb noticed but he didn’t say anything.
We can touch like any set of siblings. Same as we tease each other and laugh
together. There is nothing wrong with that. There is no tinder or match, no
flame that threatens to burn us both.
“Here’s his latest letter,” Robb said.
Sansa smiled widely and took the letter to read for herself as Robb picked up
the novel he had been reading the past few nights and moved back to the sofa.
 
Dearest Idiot,
I hope you have had a lovely summer lounging around your aunt’s estate like a
fat, spoiled feline. I have worked my fingers to the bone and sweated all the
long, hot days while you probably ate cakes and sipped tea with her ladyship
all day.
I am only jesting. I know you say you have been working with your aunt’s
servant though if he’s a bloody servant how come he gets to boss you around? I
should like to see what it’s like to have a servant someday though perhaps
they’d take one look at me and decide to ignore me.
I hope your sister is well. Is she pretty? Ha! I can almost picture your hands
clenching into fists as I write this. Fear not, Stark. I don’t dishonor
innocent girls, especially one so unfortunate as to call you their brother.
I’m an arse to say this but the summer has been so very dull and I am anxious
for you to return. I doubt you are looking forward to returning to your studies
but I hope you will not mind that I will be glad to see your stupid face again.
And if you repeat that to a living soul, I’ll kick you till you’re dead.
I suppose you will miss your girl. Have you seen her much while you’ve been
away? Did you manage to steal away from your aunt’s house with her for a ride
like you’d hoped?
I started seeing a girl in the village here but she’s quite religious and won’t
allow me to do more than hold her hand. Not that I expect She’s not as nice as
your girl sounds but it beats having no girl at all, I suppose. Steal a kiss
for me, you prick.
Dreading your return with a passion,
Jon
 
Sansa’s heart was beating hard as though she’d just run up the stairs. She
looked over at Robb absorbed in his book.
The fury was like a spark that caught the kindling unawares, engulfing the
innocent wood before it could even cry out in protest.
“Robb…what girl is Jon speaking of?” Sansa asked quietly.
“Hmmm?” he asked. He was still reading his book and not looking at her. But his
head whipped her way at once when she spoke again.
“What. Girl. Is. Jon. Speaking. Of?” she ground out, seething with a rage she
had no right to feel but felt all the same. She could feel her cheeks flame
though the rest of her was likely white a sheet.
“Sansa? What’s the matter, princess?”
“WHAT GIRL ARE YOU KISSING?!” she screamed then.
“I’m not…I’m not kissing any girls!” Robb exclaimed. He looked a bit
frightened. He should be.
“Jon said…”
“Jon said what?! Oh! Oh, gods!” Robb covered his face and…laughed. Sansa stood
and paced to where he sat laughing like the biggest, cruelest villain she could
ever imagine. She stomped on his foot with all her might. “Ouch! What
the…Sansa, that wasn’t called for!”
“I hate you!” she shouted as the tears ran down her face.
She was going to run from the library to her room, barricade her door and never
speak to him again. He would leave day after next on the train and then she
wouldn’t even have to hear his name.
But he had always been faster, always been quicker.
He grabbed her and pulled her down on the sofa next to him. She fought but he
was stronger.
“Stop! Let me go!” she shouted.
“No!” he roared. “You stop acting like a little fool and listen to me.”
“I won’t!”
“You will!”
She tried swatting at his arms but he grabbed her wrists and was much too
strong. He pushed her down on the sofa and pinned her hands on either side of
her head. His body held her down. He was heavy, too heavy for Sansa to escape.
“You’re the blasted girl Jon is asking about! Who else did you think it was?”
“How should I know? You’re gone all day and…”
“I’m gone all day? Gods, Sansa! I’m gone all day to try and remember what is
right. I’m gone all day to try and behave and not act on what I feel for you!
That’s what you want isn’t it? Because I’ve spent my entire bloody summer
trying to give you what you want though it breaks my heart to do so.”
“You told Jon about us?!” she asked, not wanting to think about what he’d just
said.
“NO! Well…yes. But I didn’t tell him it was you!”
“What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t really tell him much…just that I wrote to a girl. He asked who I
wrote to so much and if you were my girl and I said yes,” Robb finished bowing
his head. “I know you’re my sister and it’s not right. I just thought it was
alright to pretend a little. I missed you and we were apart and he was nice and
I…”
“Robb,” she sighed. “I missed you, too. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you this
summer...and sorry for stomping on your foot just now.”
She’d uttered her apology but Robb was smiling now. A devilish glint came into
his eyes.
“You were jealous. You were jealous when you thought I had a girl in the
village and had written to Jon of her.”
The part of her that was still angry wanted to say she wasn’t but he would know
it for the lie that it would have been.
“I was,” she admitted.
Robb’s eyes darkened to the shade of sapphires as he continued to stare at her.
His breathing became ragged. They were no longer shouting at each other and she
had ceased struggling against him but he held her still.
“Sansa,” he said right before he lowered his mouth to hers.
His lips gently grazed hers…right before he devoured her with his mouth. How
could her brother’s kiss feel so perfect? Even in his passion and frustration,
he was reverent and loving, moving across her lips to her cheeks to kiss away
her tears and then back to her lips again.
Her mouth had parted for him before she even meant for it to happen and his
tongue was in her mouth. He tasted sweet and like home and everything she
loved.
He groaned and pressed himself against her. She felt it, his cock was hard and
pressed into her center where he had her pinned. She bucked against him once
and wanted to do it again. She gasped at the thought and shoved at his chest.
He broke the kiss but he didn’t stop holding her.
“Sansa…Sansa,” he babbled against the corner of her mouth…before she jerked her
head away.
“I was jealous but I shouldn’t be,” she said as the tears came again. “I
shouldn’t be jealous of my brother if he has a girl. Robb…what is wrong with
me?”
“The same thing that is wrong with me. You’re the only girl I want, Sansa. I’ve
felt this way for years now.”
“It isn’t right,” she whispered. “Let me go, Robb.” He released his hold on her
hands and she stood, rubbing her wrists. “We can’t…”
“Sansa…” he said so sadly. “I need you. Please…I’ll not pressure you for kisses
or anything but don’t ask me not to love you.”
“How can I ask that of you? I love you, too.”
He stood and held her tightly in his embrace and Sansa did not stiffen this
time. She tucked her head under his chin and felt him kiss the top of her head
again. His arms held her so tight. There was no sin in an embrace like this,
just brotherly affection. Surely, she could let him hold her and love her like
this.
Like this. This is alright. We can have this if nothing else, Sansa thought
desperately.
But in her heart, she knew she wanted more…much more.
Chapter End Notes
     Denial...it ain't just a river in Egypt.
     Sorry for the delay with this update. Vacation, writer's block on
     this one and busy with other fics are all to blame. Thanks to those
     of you sticking with this story.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Summary
     Robb and Jon's friendship continues and Robb helps his friend.
     Sansa struggles with her feelings for Robb. She finds herself in a
     complicated friendship with Clarissa and faces danger.
September came and Robb returned to Gulltown on the train. Aunt Lysa had made
an appearance the morning he departed to inform him that he would be staying
there over the break during the Winter Solstice.
“It’s just as well you stay. It’s only three weeks and train fare has grown
quite outrageous. Now, don’t sulk, nephew. You’ll be coming home for the summer
in June,” Aunt Lysa said with a pat on his shoulder. She could no longer easily
reach the top of his head, not that she had ever shown much affection.
Winter chilblains and darkest day of the year without Sansa, he thought
forlornly. She had already said her good-byes earlier and fled to the library
to weep in peace. Robb wished he could do so as well.
“What of Sansa, Aunt?” he asked. “Maidenpool lies outside the Vale and the
fighting has been coming nearer.”
“If there’s any real danger, I’ll have her brought back here. Hurry along, now.
Higgs is waiting with the car to drive you to the station.”
So, the train returned Robb to Gulltown and Gulltown’s Academy for Young
Gentlemen but more importantly it returned him to Jon.
Sansa would always be his best and dearest friend as well as his sister. But
his affections for her had passed beyond brotherly and beyond that of a friend
long ago and it was nice to have a boy his age to call his friend.
Classes resumed and Robb found himself very busy with his lessons. Jon would
often turn up at the dismissal bell and they would talk as he walked to his
next class. Jon was intelligent as Robb already knew and he was curious about
the things Robb learned in class. It seemed unfair that he should be denied any
formal education past the age of ten when he had gone to work for Willem.
“Could the school not offer you a stipend of some sort? Surely, you could
study, too. Has Willem never asked?” Robb queried.
“No!” Jon answered harshly. “I’m sorry but it’s just not meant to be, Robb.
It’s best this way,” Jon said more quietly.
September passed into October and Sansa wrote often. Robb found himself sharing
her letters more and more with Jon.
“What about your girl?” Jon asked one afternoon.  "You're always writing
to Sansa now." 
She was always my girl. “We quarreled over the summer and…I’m not with her
now.”
“I’m sorry,” Jon said sincerely. It smote Robb’s conscious to lie to his friend
but he told himself it was best this way. He couldn’t possibly understand. “At
least you have a dear sister to write to,” he said meaning to be comforting no
doubt.
“Yes…she’s a very dear sister.”
School was better than it had been the previous semester. He liked his classes
and most of his professors were tolerable. All his summer’s labor had added
muscle and definition to Robb’s physique and the boys who had tormented him in
January avoided him now. They whispered about Stark’s friendship with the
groundskeeper’s bastard and made their lude remarks behind his back but they no
longer dared say those things to his face.
Cowards. That is all they are.
Robb did have other friends but there was never the easy intimacy with them
that he found with Jon.
As the days stretched on, Robb took to spending his evenings at the small house
that Jon shared with Willem near the woods on the school grounds. He liked it
there though it was rather rustic. A fireplace was the only source of heat
other than a spirit stove. Willem had an old radio and occasionally the three
of them sat around it at night listening to popular tunes or news reports of
the war. Something about the place made Robb think of simpler days gone by. He
wondered if Sansa should ever like to live in such a place off to themselves in
a forest if it could be just the two of them.
Alone in the wilderness. No one would ever need know she was anything other
than my woman, my wife. I could hunt for our meat and she could sew our
clothes. We could have a small garden perhaps. And at night, we would read
beside our fire before going to bed…together.
Robb gulped at that notion and turned his attention to Jon sitting by the fire.
As he watched his friend whittling, Robb thought that something about Jon
reminded him of the wild men of the North, the ones his father had called the
First Men.
Robb thought it would be nice to live far North near where the Wall had once
stood in a cabin in the woods with Sansa and perhaps Jon could live nearby in
his own cabin, with a woman of his own.
We could be like brothers.
Robb shook his head at his daydreams and wondered what had come over him.
Jon had started growing a beard. Perhaps that was where the notion of the First
Men had come. He would not be six and ten until a moon after Robb but he was
allowed a beard as the groundskeeper’s bastard while Robb must stay clean-
shaven at school until his seventeenth nameday.
“I need a day off,” Robb huffed irritably as he threw down his geography lesson
that he had not truly been working on for the past hour. He stretched his long
legs by the fire in Willem’s cozy den and tossed a wadded-up piece of parchment
at Jon’s head earning a scowl. “I have a brilliant idea. We will dress you in
my uniform tomorrow and have you take my place in class. What do you say?”
“I’m certain they would spot me at once, Stark. You’d be whipped and I’d be
whipped harder.  Besides, you’re taller than me…and far uglier.”
“Uglier? Oh, yes…you are such a pretty boy. With that mop of lovely curls, I
fear all the lads would be busy trying to carry your books and ask you to sit
beside them. It’s much better that I attend class. You’d be far too much of a
distraction. Mr. Craster might try and get you to come sit on his lap.”
“Piss off, Stark,” Jon laughed.
Robb wrote to Sansa often and she wrote in return. But her letters were signed
‘your affectionate sister’ whereas his were all signed ‘Love, Robb.’
His heart ached. She didn’t seem to share more than the mundane things about
school. It was as if she was as withdrawn from him emotionally as she was
physically. He thought he knew why she was doing so. He understood her shame
but he had decided that it would not keep him from her in the long run.
After all their miserably isolated existence had been thus far, when the only
ray of light in their lives had been each other for so much of their childhood,
he would not live without her…no matter how she might try to push him away.
He loved her with all his heart and soul. He would be six and ten in a few
days. In another year, he would be a man grown in the eyes of the authorities.
He needn’t stay at Aunt Lysa’s unless he wanted to after that. Then again, she
might choose to turn him out. He could leave school and enlist then as he and
Jon were fond of daydreaming about. He might consider leaving school to find
work. He would find some way to support Sansa so that when she came of age,
they could be together in whatever capacity she was willing to grant him.
He sighed into his pillow and said his prayers later that night. Not the ones
he’d learned at the Sept as a boy. The one he had invented in his mind to help
ease the pain of being parted from his beloved.
Tonight though we are parted, I pray that you are well and happy and know that
I love you.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
A lady
A lady does
A lady does not forget
A lady does not forget her role.
A lady
A lady must
A lady must stay pure.
Carefully, Sansa traced the calligraphy as instructed, worrying her bottom lip
in her concentration to get the characters just so.
“That’s very good, Miss Stark,” Mrs. Mordane said from over her shoulder.
“Thank you, ma’am,” she murmured in response.
School had been a welcome distraction after her sadness those last few days at
home. Being parted from him was hard but she kept telling herself it was better
this way.
She loved him. She loved him as so much more than her brother.  And he loved
her, too. 
What is wrong with me?
When Aunt Lysa had told her about staying at school over the break, Sansa had
been heartbroken but relieved in a way as well. Sad at the thoughts of not
seeing Robb until June but happy to not face temptation during that time.
She hoped Clarissa would go home during the break though.
Her friend…it was strange. She was kind. She had endured some terrible things.
Sansa had secretly longed for an older girl to talk to. Robb was her closest
confidant but, as she grew older, Sansa found there were some things she would
rather share with another girl…if she could not have a mother.
But the other night Clarissa had sat on her bed brushing Sansa’s hair as the
other great girls sat in their group.  She was the only one of the older girls
to spend her time and attention on Sansa, it seemed.  At first it had made her
feel special.  Now, it just made her feel uneasy. 
She had whispered in Sansa’s ear…nothing important, just gossip. But then Sansa
had felt the brush of Clarissa’s lips on the shell of her ear.
Sansa’s eyes had flitted about the room. No one had seen and Sansa had wondered
why her heart pounded and she felt hot and uncomfortable.
She wanted to write to Robb and ask him about it. She wanted his opinion. She
wanted him to hold her and comfort the strange nervousness Clarissa invoked
lately but how could she write of such a thing?
It was nothing. Probably an accident as her lips got too near when she was
whispering.
But she would not write of it. She was determined to be a devoted sister and
nothing more.  My role...a loving sister. 
He is everything I want and everything I want is wrong.
Robb’s letters were full of things he was learning and Jon.
Jon, Jon, Jon…he wrote of him mostly.
Sansa envied Robb’s friendship with Jon. He was close to someone now that
wasn’t her. And it seemed so uncomplicated compared to her friendship with
Clarissa.
Perhaps boys are just less complicated all together, Sansa decided.
She envied Jon, too. He had her brother’s company and attention. He had her
brother’s friendship. It made her resentful when she knew she shouldn’t be.
And yet…her brother’s friend had written a kind, short letter thanking her for
the handkerchiefs she had sent him. It contained none of the teasing banter
that peppered his letters to Robb. That hardly would’ve been appropriate
considering they had never met. But it was sweet and Sansa kept it along with
all of Robb’s letters.
Her heart ached for Robb’s company. And other places ached for his touch all
while she burned with guilt over it.
A lady does not forget her role. A lady must stay pure.
Clarissa liked reading over her shoulder as she wrote and she often asked to
read the letters Sansa received, saying she never received letters and had no
one to write. Sansa felt sorry for her and was too kind-hearted to say no. She
wished that she could be just a little cold and say no though. She wanted to
keep her letters from Robb to herself.
And the more Clarissa imposed on her conversations with her brother via the
post, the more distant and formal Sansa’s letters became.  She feared being
questioned by Clarissa about the things she wanted to say in her letters. 
She could tell by the ones she received in reply that he was wounded by this
distance though he never wrote a word of accusation or complaint.
Clarissa often asked about Robb. She asked about Jon as well since Robb’s
letters were full of his friend.
“How close are they?” she asked in a tone Sansa did not care for one night. “As
close as us, my love?” she asked next as she began caressing Sansa’s shoulders.
“They're close...good friends,” Sansa said stiffly and moved away claiming she
needed to use the water closet.
The more time she spent with her friend the less comfortable it was. Clarissa
gave her hugs that lasted too long. She told Sansa that she was seventeen now
and since Sansa was not yet fourteen, she could teach her things that might be
useful later.
'You will want to please your husband someday, little love.'
Sansa pretended ignorance and quoted a passage from the Book of the Maiden. 
Clarissa said no more on the subject.  She was not the innocent girl she had
once been and she suspected she might not like the things Clarissa meant to
teach her.
She is my friend, she would remind herself when she grew cross. Try not to be
rude. It’s not ladylike.
Jeyne had not returned to school. Her parents had said the fighting was too
near and wished to keep her at home.
The other girls…many did not like Clarissa. And now, they gave Sansa queer
looks.
What have I done to earn such looks? I wish Robb were here but Clarissa is the
only friend I have now.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“Did you see that car, Stark?” a classmate asked as Robb entered the dining
hall for lunch one blustery afternoon in mid-November.
“What car?”
“The limousine with the Southron Army flag.”
“No. What would it be doing here?”
“Don’t know but it flew a Lion.”
It was the talk all throughout lunch. Some colonel from the South had come to
visit the school. He was in his uniform and there half a dozen other officers
with him. He had white hair, almost silver and strange purple eyes.
The headmaster had seemed adamant to please him and led him through the school.
Robb saw him for himself striding along the halls as though he owned the place
with the portly headmaster struggling to keep up. Professor Creech shoved Robb
against the wall to get him out of the man’s way as he passed. It was better
his shove than being struck by the canes the men accompanying the colonel were
carrying.
He heard the silver-haired man say, “The information I received said he was
here. I want to see every last student in this school, Headmaster.”
“Of course, Oberst Targaryen. We’ll round the boys up in the assembly hall,”
the headmaster huffed and puffed as he tried to keep up.
“Who is he, Professor?” Robb asked Creech after they were out of sight.
“Some bloody Targaryen princeling from Dorne. He’s fighting for the Lions in
the war…of all the lunacy. He says he’s here looking for his son. We don’t have
his bloody son here. We don’t have any sons of Dragons or Southron colonels
attending here.” Creech straightened Robb’s tie and said in a more amiably
voice, “Go on, Young Stark. They’ll be calling for you all soon enough. Head to
the assembly hall.”
“Yes, sir.”
Hours later, Robb sought Jon at his house. He had not seen him since early
morning nor Willem either. He was eager to hear what they thought of the
visitors.
As Robb approached the house, he heard raised voices. He knocked on the door
and silence descended at once.
“Jon? Are you in there? Willem? It’s Robb.”
He heard low voices then right before Willem’s head poked out. Normally, he was
a kind man and his homely face usually broke into a smile when Robb was at the
door.
But now he scowled and in a gruff voice asked, “What brings you here, Young
Master?”
“I wanted to see Jon, sir. May I come in?”
Willem looked past Robb as though he was seeing if anyone else was with him.
Robb had never brought anyone else along when he visited them though.
“I’ve not seen him since early. Is he ill?”
“It’s alright, Willem,” Jon’s voice called from within. “He means no harm.”
Robb was baffled by that statement but the door opened wider and he was
admitted. Willem muttered something under his breath at Jon and then went to
the fire. He lifted the lid to the hanging kettle and stirred something
fragrant.
“Did all the visitors leave the school then?” Willem asked Robb.
“Yes, sir. About an hour ago, I believe. Is something the matter?” he asked,
looking at Jon.
He had never seen Jon like this. He was visibly upset. Jon sometimes grew angry
or brooded when the boys called him a bastard but there was more to it. His
eyes were red and Robb would swear he had been crying. He appeared frightened
as well.
“Jon?” Robb queried, trying to get his friend to speak to him.
He was worried. Jon opened his mouth as though he would speak but then quickly
shut it.
“You should probably go back to your dormitory tonight, Robb,” he said at
last. 
“Will you talk to me of it tomorrow?”
“Aye,” Jon said evasively and Robb knew that he was lying. Jon wasn’t much of a
liar.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and left the room without another word,
heading into his small bedroom.
“What have I missed?” he asked Willem.
“I’ll let him tell you if he wishes,” the old man said as he continued stirring
his supper. Robb stood uncertainly for only a moment before he made his
decision. He walked purposefully over to Jon’s door. “Tell him the stew will be
ready in fifteen minutes, will you?” Willem asked.
Robb nodded to the old man and pushed the door open.
Jon sat alone on his pallet. There was a lantern lit and sitting on the floor
at his feet. It cast strange shadows on the walls of the tiny room and Robb
thought of the shadow game he had played with Sansa when they were younger.
There was a satchel at his feet, stuffed full. Robb felt a clenching in his gut
at the sight. He’s going to leave. He is my best friend here and he means to
leave.
“He’s my father,” Jon said without preamble and without looking up.
“Willem?”
Jon scoffed and then raised his eyes to Robb. There was no mistaking now. Jon
had been crying. But he shook his head incredulously and broke into a smile at
Robb’s question.
“No, you idiot. Not Willem. The colonel…the Targaryen from the Dornish Legion.
He is my father.”
Robb sat down on the pallet next to Jon not certain what to say. “Why was he
looking for you amongst the students?”
“Because he doesn’t know my whereabouts and no doubt some spy of his gave him
information that I might be here. He would expect me to be a student. It would
never enter his mind to think of me as a servant…as the groundskeeper’s
assistant.”
“He said he had informants that told him his son was at the school. They lined
us all up in the assembly hall. He went around looking at each one of us,
staring us down while holding up a photograph.”
“I have to leave,” Jon said nervously, rubbing his hands on his thighs. He
sounded like a frightened boy. He doesn’t want to leave. He’s just afraid.
“Why? He didn’t find you. He left. He was very cross when he left. He probably
thinks his spy gave him false information. He may never return. And why should
you have to hide from your own father anyway?”
“He’ll take me south to Dorne if he finds me. I don’t want to go south. I’m
from the North. My mother was from the North.” Jon covered his face and
whispered, “I hate him. I don’t want to ever see him.”
“Did he mistreat you?” Robb asked, fearing that Jon had been beaten as a boy.
“No. He’s never even met me… but he mistreated my mother. He treated her
dishonorably. He used her, got her pregnant and left her an unmarried girl. She
died giving birth to me."  His eyes clouded with tears and he murmured, "A
septon once told me that she must’ve died of a broken heart and the shame
having to birth a bastard.”
“Jon, that’s hardly…women die in childbirth sometimes. It’s tragic but it
wasn’t your fault or hers. And hang the bloody Faith if that’s what they would
say to you.”
“It’s why I want to enlist, Robb. I want to enlist to fight for the North…and
because I want to kill my own father. That’s the rotten sort of friend that you
have,” he croaked as the tears began to fall at last.
Robb did not know what to say to that, so instead he put an arm around his
friend’s shoulders and let him cry. After a while, Jon stopped.
“Where will you go?” Robb asked.
“I…I don’t know. I have some money. I would go north. I could pass for a man
grown.”
“For a time perhaps...but you'd need papers to enlist.  And if they discovered
you weren't yet seventeen, they'd take you up as a runaway and that information
could reach your father, too."  Jon looked miserable at that and Robb
continued, "Willem said there would be stew ready soon.”
“What do I care of stew?” Jon asked.
“Surely even you aren't stupid enough to run away on an empty stomach,” Robb
replied with a twinkle in his eye.
“I’m not…”
“Running away? It seems that way to me. Willem doesn’t want you to go, does
he?”
“No.”
“I don’t want you to go either.”
“But if my father…”
“Then, we’ll hide you. We’ll find a good place and keep you hidden.”
“I stayed in the loft all day. I was afraid every time I heard a noise. His men
came looking at once point and I was too frightened to breathe while they were
there.”
“I’m sure you were. Come on…you should at least eat a bite. You’ve probably not
eaten since breakfast.”
“No, I haven’t,” Jon agreed and rose from the bed. He left his satchel where it
sat on the floor.
The three of them sat the table after Willem served the stew. They talked of
simpler matters and Jon stopped brooding and began to relax.
“I’m tired,” Jon said after the meal was finished.
“You know the way to your bed,” Robb said.
“Did you convince him to stay then, Master Stark?” Willem asked as he
affectionately ruffled Jon’s hair.
“I don’t know. Did I?” he asked Jon.
“Yes, I’ll stay. I’m sorry for speaking chuff to you earlier, Willem.”
“It’s quite alright, lad.”
Robb wrote to Sansa later that evening and told her how he missed her. He sent
his enquires pertaining to her health and well-being. He hoped she was enjoying
her studies. He bade her to send him some idea of something he could give her
for her nameday and signed the letter with his love.
But he did not write to her of Jon’s secret, that he was a secret Targaryen,
one of the last of the Dragons and that ancient house. It would seem a betrayal
of Jon’s trust.
And if the silver-haired man truly had spies searching for Jon here in the
Vale, he would not be the one for them to glean any information from by
accident.
Perhaps someday I will share it with her with Jon’s blessing.
For now, he was just Jon and just Jon he would remain, an orphan from the
North, the groundskeeper’s bastard.
Knowing Jon’s secret though made Robb regret keeping his secret from him, the
secret of his girl, the sister that he loved as more than a sister.
 
===============================================================================
 
I’m going to die on my nameday, Sansa thought miserably.
It was December. The Solstice was near…and so was the Southron Army. Northern
spies had allegedly been found in a farmhouse ten miles from the school. There
had been fighting going on for the past three nights.
And tonight, the night was shattered with the sounds of artillery shelling, the
high-pitched scream and bursting of bombs.
It shook the school. It shook Sansa’s very bed.
Clarissa had crawled into her bed next to her, saying Sansa must be
frightened.  She was but she'd rather be frightened alone. Clarissa stroked her
hair and whispered that they would be alright in a voice that was not
convincing. And Sansa wished she would go away. It was not her arms she wanted
around her. It was not her whispered reassurances she wanted in the dark.
Clarissa kissed her lightly on the neck and Sansa pretended to be asleep.
But when the explosions drew nearer, she whimpered his name.  “Robb.” 
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Summary
     Sansa makes a stand and a new friend. Robb and Jon get drunk. The war
     rages on.
     Tags updated!
Chapter Notes
     I am sorry for the long delay between updates. I could partly blame
     the Jonsa Summer Challenge in July but I mostly have to admit I've
     buried myself in too many WIPs but I'm still committed to writing
     this story for any of you who are still reading it.
     Thanks for your patience.
     Kitty, Janina and Jeanette...thank you for your continued
     encouragement on this and all my other stuff :)
The early January winds were harsh and cold and the small group of girls that
remained over the break stood together on the lawn of the school as the
building was inspected for damage.
Twelve of the past fifteen nights the fighting had raged nearby. The power had
been out off and on since the Solstice and Sansa shivered in her coat that was
too small now and stomped her feet in the dusting of snow that had fallen the
night before.
The men checking the building came over to the headmistress and reported some
minor damage to the foundation of the dormitory.
“The building will stand well enough, ma’am,” an older man who reminded Sansa
of Old Higgs said. He glanced around at the eight girls there. “The building
will stand…but perhaps it would be wise to consider closing it for a bit,” he
said then.
“Thank you,” the headmistress said primly. “Come along, girls. Let’s get back
inside.”
Clarissa grasped Sansa’s hand causing her to fall behind the others. “They
should close. The war draws too near. We’d be safer at home.”
Sansa nodded and pulled her hand from Clarissa’s. “Let’s catch up. I’m cold,”
she said over her shoulder.
They entered the school soon after and Sansa found a chair by the fire…not the
sofa. Clarissa’s brow crinkled in displeasure and she walked over to the
opposite chair.
Two other girls, twins who were younger girls than Sansa, sat on the other sofa
together. They were whispering to each other and Sansa was reminded of herself
and Robb at a younger age when they were all they had. One girl began to cry
unexpectedly and the other did soon after. Clarissa moved to sit between them.
“Don’t cry little ones,” Clarissa said amiably in that sickly sweet tone she
had sometimes. She put an arm around their shoulders and drew them close.
“We’ll all be alright together.”
“Our father and oldest brother are fighting in the war. A letter came from our
mother today. She said she’s not received word from them in over three moons,”
one of the girls said mournfully.
“Poor little pets,” Clarissa said soothingly. “We should comfort them,
shouldn’t we, Sansa?”
Clarissa flashed a curious smile at her. Her brow was arched and she rubbed the
girls’ shoulders. Sansa felt ill at the memory it triggered.
 
“Does it hurt, my love?” Clarissa asked as she lightly palmed Sansa’s breast
before she squeezed.
Sansa bit her tongue and tried to hide her tears. She shook her head and
wondered how she’d let herself get talked into this.
She had said no…more than once…but Clarissa just had a way of putting things,
leaving Sansa in doubt. Making her question if maybe she had asked for this in
some way. Making her afraid to confide in anyone else. Isolating her from the
other girls to the extent that Sansa felt there was no one else here for her to
turn to.
She’d kissed her more than once now and Sansa had tried to imagine it was Robb
kissing her. But it wasn’t.
Clarissa leaned forward and Sansa drew a deep breath before Clarissa’s mouth
closed over hers. Her hand was under her shift, stroking her breast. She put
Sansa’s hand on her own breast.
She tried to kiss her the way Robb wanted to sometimes, with tongue and teeth.
But she was not Robb.
Sansa pretended she was not here, not really. She closed her eyes. Sansa stayed
stock still and kept her lips clamped tightly together. She held her breath,
praying for the kiss to end.
She gulped in a deep breath and opened her eyes when Clarissa pulled back at
last. A line of spittle stretched between their mouths and snapped. Sansa
roughly wiped at her lips.
It was hard to remember what Robb’s kisses were like now.Robb’s kisses were
different…and I wanted them. Why must she steal my sweet memories?
The hand on her breast squeezed again and she felt Clarissa’s thumb stroking
her nipple. Clarissa leaned forwards again.
“Stop,” Sansa said hoarsely.
Clarissa froze. Something like wrath flared in her eyes for a moment…and was
gone just a quick.
“Of course, my love. I always stop when you tell me to, don’t I? If you didn’t
like it, you would tell me so, yes?”
I don’t like it at all, Sansa thought.Robb would be ashamed of what a coward I
am. And perhaps he would be angry at me for sharing kisses with someone else.
She’d rolled to her side and pretended to fall asleep wishing the bombs would
stop falling and Clarissa would leave her alone.
 
Four nights had passed since that night. The bombings had been terrible that
evening and Sansa had been trembling in her bed with fear. Images of her mother
blown to a million pieces had kept racing through her mind.
No post had made it through in a fortnight and Sansa longed for a letter from
Robb. I’m stronger when I know he’s with me, whether in body or just in spirit.
Clarissa had heard her sob and crept into her bed.
“Don’t be afraid, my love.  I'll comfort you,” she’d said.
At first, Sansa had wanted the comfort…for another human being to be close and
reassure her. But that was not all that Clarissa wanted. Comfort was never all
she wanted.
Sansa looked at the little girls with Clarissa’s arms wrapped around them.
“Shall we comfort them?” she queried again.
“No,” Sansa said softly, thinking of the innocent children she and Robb had
been.
Left with a distant and slightly mad relative. Neglected by the adults in their
lives. Perhaps it was not so strange the sort of comfort they had found in one
another, the kind of love that had grown between them. But Sansa knew that
Robb’s love was true and pure. Clarissa’s was not.
“No,” she said again a little louder.
Clarissa looked up in confusion and Sansa directed her attention to the twins.
They are no more than nine, she realized as a chill of revulsion ran from her
scalp to her arms. I am sorry for the things that were done to you…but it gives
you know right to play your games and make victims of the rest of us.
She cleared her throat and warmly said, “Let us go and play a card game, girls.
And then we can write to our families. The post is not always regular during
the war but I’m sure you’ll hear good news soon. You can write to your brother
and father for your mother to forward. I’m sure they will be happy to hear from
you both. Or, we can go to the Sept and pray if you prefer. There are no
lessons today.”
The little girls smiled at Sansa…and Clarissa’s eyes narrowed in anger.
“Fine then,” she said spitefully. “Play a stupid card game.  Write letters to
ghosts.  I believe I shall go and read.”
She left the room and Sansa breathed a sigh of relief.
The little girls chatted away to Sansa all afternoon as their tears and fears
receded. Perhaps their father and brother just couldn’t write. Perhaps their
letters had gone astray. Perhaps they’d been blown to a million pieces like her
own mother and father. But for now, the girls found comfort, the right kind of
comfort…with Sansa.
She thought that Robb might be proud of her if he knew.
 
===============================================================================
 
The semester break brought freedom with no lessons or cares. Robb spent every
spare moment at Willem’s cottage with Jon. They played card games and tinkered
with Willem’s busted radio. Sometimes they would get it working and, although
the sound was scratchy, swing music would fill the rustic little cottage.
One night in early January before classes started back, Robb found himself at
his favorite place…his favorite place that didn’t include Sansa anyway.
The radio was working that evening and Willem danced a jig to the music as Robb
laughed. Jon smiled by the fire and his cheeks grew flushed as though he were
embarrassed by Willem’s antics. Willem enjoyed a bit of ale on the cold
winter’s nights and perhaps he was in his cups. Robb did not mind. It was
refreshing to see an adult having fun and acting silly. Old Higgs was alright
but he was often taciturn. Mrs. Jinks was, too. And, Aunt Lysa never did
anything light-hearted…when she showed herself at all.
“Do you dance at all, young master?” Willem asked Robb.
“Only a little that my sister tried to teach me,” Robb said with a fond smile
at the memory. 
“Well, this one don’t,” he chuckled pointing at Jon.
“I don’t bloody dance because I’m not dancing with you,” Jon shot back.
“Ain’t no girls about here, lad,” Willem said. “But say someday you two head
off from this old school and actually encounter some. Then what?”
“Then, Jon will sit in the corner and mind my ale while I dance with all the
girls,” Robb joked.
“Fat chance, Stark,” Jon laughed. “You’ll be minding the ale and writing to
your sister.”
Robb’s stomach dropped and he darted a quick glance at Jon and Willem. Jon did
not appear to have meant anything more than a jest by it and Willem was busy
twirling in place. Robb laughed belatedly and a bit too heartily. And, why did
he feel such guilt for keeping his secret from Jon?
The music stopped suddenly and the announcer’s voice came over the radio.
“We interrupt our regularly scheduled program for this important report. The
firefights and bombings near Maidenpool have been growing steadily worse since
the 20th and today, for the first time, the war crossed the shore into the Vale
as Resistance Fighters from the North escaped via boats. They were pursued by
the Southron Army though, quickly caught and captured on our shores…”
Robb sat frozen listening to the report as it sunk in. A chill ran up his spine
and the hairs on his arms stood up.
“Maidenpool,” he whispered.
“That’s where Sansa’s school is, isn’t it?” Jon asked with concern.
“Yes.” Robb rose from the table where he’d been sitting and headed towards the
door.
“Robb, where are you going?”
“I need to…I need to speak with her. I need to know she’s alright,” he said
absently, running a hand through his hair. Where am I going? Where can I go?
What can I do here? Nothing. “I need a…”
“The headmaster has a telephone in his study,” Jon said, rising to join him.
“He’ll never let me use it.”
“We could ask. Or, we could sneak in and…”
“No, lad,” Willem said. “You’d get caught and you’d both get a beating. There’s
a telephone down at the pub in town I visit sometimes. I’ll take you down to
use it.”
“Thank you, Willem,” Robb said in relief.
He didn’t know the telephone number for the school. He wasn’t even sure her
school had a telephone. Not all that many people did. But this was better than
nothing.
And if he could not reach her by telephone, he would go to her…even if it meant
running away from school and walking every step of the way.
 
===============================================================================
 
Robb had called a few night ago and though she’d not been permitted to speak to
him for very long, hearing his voice had done so much to lift her spirits.
“We’re fortunate that this contraption is still working at all,” the
headmistress said indicating the telephone receiver lying on her desk after
Sansa had been fetched from the great girls’ room.
“Hello,” she said breathlessly. They’d not spoken in so many moons except in
their letters. And she’d been distant in her letters of late out of shame. No
more of that now.
“Sansa?” he shouted. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. I’m…”
“I heard there was fighting near Maidenpool on the radio!”
“There was. It was frightening, Robb…but it has stopped a few night ago.”
“Are you certain? I don’t like you being there!”
“Why are you shouting?” she finally asked with a giggle. There were loud voices
in the background and he admitted that he was at a pub with Jon and Willem, the
man that Jon lived with. “A pub?” she asked in shock.
“Yes,” Robb chuckled. “Willem said he’d buy me a pint of ale if I promise not
to run off after you.” His voiced dropped to a whisper and he said, “No
promises of ale would keep me from you if you are in danger though, princess.”
Princess. Just hearing his voice calling her that again sent a shiver of
longing through her. “Thank you, my knight,” she whispered back. The
Headmistress looked up at her curiously then but let them continue. “They say
the fighting has moved closer to Saltpans now. It’s been perfectly quiet for
two nights now.”
“I still want you to ring Aunt Lysa…or write if you must. You would be safer at
home. I’ll write to her as well and tell her to bring you home.”
“Thank you, Robb,” she said softly. “I miss you. I miss you so much.”
“And I miss you.” She heard Robb speaking to someone and a bark of laughter.
“Hold on just a moment, Sansa.”
A new voice came on the line. “Hello, Sansa. This is Jon.” He sounded sweet…and
a bit shy.
“Hello, Jon,” she replied with a smile. “It’s nice to hear your voice.”
It was a nice voice, a deep voice, more like a man’s than the boy she had
pictured in her mind. She liked the rumble of his Northern accent. Other than
Robb, she rarely heard Northmen speaking.
“Same here. I just wanted to say hello and, uh…say that I’m glad you're safe.
Your brother worries like a mother hen for you…not that I would blame him.”
“He does. He’s a good brother,” Sansa agreed. “I’m glad he has you for a
friend,” she continued after an awkward silence.
“Um…thank you,” he mumbled. “Here, you can have him back again,” he said
hurriedly as she could hear Robb saying something.
More muttering from the other line followed by more laughter. Robb’s voice was
like honey in her ear when she heard him say, “I pray for you each night, sweet
girl. And I will drive Aunt Lysa batty posting letters until I receive one from
you saying you are home.”
“Thank you, Robb.” The headmistress started gesturing for the her to hand the
telephone back. “I can’t wait until June,” she said quickly before telling him
she had to go. “Good-bye.”
“Good-bye, my love,” he said.
Sansa handed back the receiver and thanked the headmistress for letting her
take the call. Then, she headed to her room where she ignored Clarissa’s
pleading looks. She laid down and pictured his face and imagined hearing his
voice calling her princess again…and sweet girl…and my love. It was several
minutes later when Sansa’s eyes widened in shock.
He said those things aloud. He called me ‘my love’…with Jon right there!
 
===============================================================================
 
 
A few mornings later, Sansa absently twirled her braid during the very first
morning of lessons after the winter break. Ever since she’d talked to Robb,
she’d been thinking of him more and more. She thought of him daily anyway but
now it felt stronger than it had a moon ago.
There was a commotion outside the drawing room door right before the lesson
started and the headmistress brought in a new girl. At least, Sansa thought she
might be a girl.
She was taller than any girl Sansa had ever seen. She had broad shoulders,
broader than Robb’s perhaps and little bosom was in evidence. She looked ill-
at-ease in her homespun dress. Her flaxen blond hair hung lanky around a
somewhat plain face.
“What a beauty,” Clarissa said derisively under her breath from where she sat
behind Sansa.
Sansa looked closer at the face and thought the girl had pretty blue eyes. She
may be plain compared to some but I will not mock her for it.
“Ladies, we have a new student. This is Brienne,” the headmistress said.
The girl looked down awkwardly at her feet and flushed a vivid red as the other
girls stared at her. Sansa recalled how difficult it was to arrive in the
middle of the school year, how she had felt last year when the headmistress had
introduced her in a similar fashion.
“Well, well…” the instructor said, giving the poor girl a none-too-subtle
appraisal and obviously finding her lacking. “We shall do our best, shan’t we?
Take a seat, Brienne.”
Sansa raised her hand and waited until the teacher acknowledged her. “She may
sit by me, ma’am,” Sansa said with a friendly smile while indicating the vacant
seat to her right.
She heard Clarissa’s sharp intake of breath and she felt even bolder for it.
The new girl sat down beside her, eyes focused on her large hands that were
clasped in front of her.
“I’m Sansa,” she whispered. Brienne looked over at her for a moment swiftly and
then back to her hands. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Nothing. Not a word the girl spoke in return. Clarissa snickered behind her.
The teacher began the lesson and Sansa was forced to cease her efforts in
welcoming the new girl.
Perhaps she will warm up later, she decided.
 
During luncheon, Sansa invited Brienne to sit next to her. The girl looked
suspiciously around but then sat as there weren’t many other seats available.
Sansa felt her cheeks warm. Now that she was sitting next to her, Sansa didn’t
know exactly what to say. She’d not had all that much experience initiating a
conversation with a stranger.
“Where are you from?” she asked as she cut into the loaf of bread between them.
“Tarth,” the girl replied.
“Oh…is it as lovely as they say?”
“I suppose,” the girl said begrudgingly, ripping into the half of bread that
Sansa handed her.
“I’m from the North…Winterfell,” Sansa said. She received a grunt in reply and
another questioning look. “But I live with my aunt and brother in the Vale now.
My brother is at school in…”
“Why are you talking to me?” Brienne asked gruffly.
“I…um…I beg your pardon?”
“Why are you talking to me? Is it to have a laugh at me later with your
friends?”
“What? No! Why would I do that?” Sansa asked in confusion.
“Please, spare me your theatrics. You’re probably just like the girls at the
last school I attended. Most of them made fun of me to my face. But there were
some that took me under their wing and started talking to me. They were pretty,
too. They had me believing we were friends…until I learned that it was a great
joke to them all. Brienne, the great heifer, let’s have a laugh by pretending
we like her.’”
“I wouldn’t…I’d never…”
“Sure, you wouldn’t,” Brienne scoffed in clear disbelief. “Girls like you are
all the same.”
Sansa looked across the table where Clarissa was grinning maliciously at her.
She felt her eyes fill with tears. She wondered what she’d done wrong to make
the girl think such a thing.
She rose from the table and excused herself, making her way outside despite the
snow that was falling. She headed toward the small gazebo that would be covered
in flowers in April.  Now, it was covered in snow. 
In the distance, mortar fire could be heard. Twenty miles away at least, thank
the gods. Robb…I want to go home. I want to be with you. I want…
“What were you trying to prove just now, Sansa? That you could make a new
friend and ignore me?” Clarissa asked.
“I wasn’t trying to prove anything. I just wanted to make her feel welcome and
make a new friend. I want for you to leave me alone, Clarissa.”
“Why? What have I done to you that you didn’t want?”
“I didn’t want any of it. I should’ve said from the beginning but you just…”
“I just what?” Clarissa asked coming closer.
“You have a way of twisting my words and making me think that I should…”
Clarissa wrapped her arms around Sansa’s waist and pulled her close. “No! Let
go of me. I don’t want to be friends anymore with you because you don’t know
how to just be friends!”
“Oh…is that how it is? And you thought if you befriended that troll you could
use her to keep me away?”
“She’s not a troll! Listen to you! You sound like Lucy always did. I used to
like you because I thought you were better than those mean and gossipy girls. I
thought you were different. Well, you are different but now I see that you’re
no better than they were. I want a true friend here, one who doesn’t expect the
kinds of things you do in return for your friendship…but perhaps that is too
much to ask!” she cried in her frustration.
“No, it’s not,” a voice said from behind them. Brienne had come outside to
where they stood arguing in the snow. “I’m sorry for doubting your motives,
Sansa. I should like a friend, a true friend.” She eyes the pair of them
warily.
Clarissa snarled at Brienne but was not about to pick a fight now. She turned
on her heel and went back inside. Sansa looked down at the snow and drew a deep
breath.
Brienne was flushed again and obviously didn’t know what to say.
“I’m sorry for the way those other girls treated you, Brienne. But I promise
that I only want to try and be your friend.”
The older girl ducked her head and said, “It’s hard to accept kindness from a
stranger when you’re so used to cruelty…but I would like to start fresh here.”
“Good,” Sansa said smiling. “Will you shake hands with me then and we can start
anew?”
“Of course.” They shook and then the two girls turned back towards the school.
Brienne paused and said, “Forgive me for rudely interrupting you at luncheon.
Where does your brother go to school?”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
The warm spray of his seed fell across Robb’s knuckles and he tried to silence
his heavy breathing in the night. He stayed still beneath the covers, straining
to see if any of his dormmates were awake but the three other boys snored on.
The dream had been innocent at first and a welcome diversion from the
nightmares he’d had of late. He could hear Sansa’s laughter as they talked in
the library. They’d read stories and made up their own endings. Then, he’d
imagined them cuddling beneath the blanket in the cold when they were still
quite young and playing the shadow game.
But the dream shifted and all he could see were her blue eyes staring into his
as she sighed his name. And when his dream led him to remember the nights when
she’d straddle his lap and move against him as they kissed, he’d awoke hard and
wanting.
His hand had slid down beneath his night shirt and he’d stroked himself to
release remembering the way she moaned when she’d rode him like a horse.
Hearing her voice the other night had not exactly reawakened his desires for
they had never left but it had brought his sister even more firmly to his mind.
Ever since he’d spoken to her, he’d sunk into a gloomy pit. The initial relief
of hearing that she was alive and well and safe at present quickly faded. He
missed her. He missed her terribly and worried for her. Summer would bring them
together again but it seemed so bloody far off.
And, the war raged on. What if Aunt Lysa refused to bring her home? What if the
violence returned to Maidenpool? Images of his sweet sister stuck in her school
as bomb rained down plagued his sleep. Images of soldiers, like the ones that
had come with Jon’s father and roughly interrogated the boys, shoving them
about, caused a sick and helpless feeling to overwhelm him.
How would those men treat a bunch of girls? Would they treat them gently…or far
more roughly than they had the boys? If no one is about to stop them, how far
would men go in times of war?
Robb had studied enough history by now to know he didn’t like the answer.
The seed on his hand was cooling quickly and he reached for his
handkerchief…one that she’d made him.
Just then, a strange hand clapped down over his mouth. He managed to emit a
muffled yelp before the outline of a curly mop of hair became clear.
“Seven hells,” he hissed when Jon moved his hand. “What are you doing in here?”
“Be quiet,” Jon hissed right back. “I’m breaking you out of here so we can have
a bit of fun tonight.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Robb whispered. He smacked at Jon’s hand that was
still resting near his ear without thinking.
“Why is your hand wet? Were you crying?” Robb groaned and grabbed the
handkerchief wiping his hand off and keeping his eyes averted from his
friend’s. “You…Seven Fucking Hells,” Jon huffed, grabbing Robb’s blanket and
wiping frantically at his arm. “Gods, I need to amputate,” he muttered.
Robb chuckled causing Jon to roughly pull his pillow from beneath his head and
whack him a dozen times.
“Quiet! You’ll wake the others,” he said while smothering the belly laughs that
were threatening.
“Yes…well, sorry to interrupt your fun,” Jon said with a smirk.
“Shut up,” Robb growled then. “What bit of fun did you have in mind?”
“There’s a band playing at that pub Willem took us to tonight.”
“So?”
“So…I thought we might go, you and I. No one asked our age when we went in
there with Willem.”
“That’s ‘cause we were with Willem.”
“We could easily pass for seventeen,” Jon argued. “Come on. Let’s go see if we
can have a drink and maybe see which one of us can get a girl to dance with him
first.”
Robb scowled. “Does Willem know about this?”
“Well, no,” Jon said. “He’d not like it. I just thought…you’ve seemed down
lately.”
“I’m only worried about Sansa.”
“I know. In all honestly, I’m worried about her, too.” Robb gave his friend a
shrewd look. “Only because she’s my best friend’s sister, alright?” he quickly
added.
“Alright.”
“A bit of cheering wouldn’t hurt, would it?”
“No, I suppose not,” he answered.
He pulled on his clothes silently while Jon waited in the hall. They kept
laughing under their breath and admonishing the other to be quiet as they crept
out of the school and across the grounds. There was a giddy sense of danger and
adventure in this and Robb found that he was glad to be going.
The walk to the village took about half an hour and their voices rose to a more
natural volume the further they got from the school. It was a frosty night and
the moon reflected off the snow, lighting their way. It was not so cold with
their coats and each other for company though.
Just as Jon had hoped, they were allowed into the pub with no questions. Jon
fetched them each a pint and Robb found them a table. The band was warming up
and there were local girls aplenty.
They guzzled their first pint down. They were nearly men grown and they both
found they had a man’s thirst.
The musicians began to play and some of the girls were dancing in front of
them. They were wearing the shorter skirts that were becoming more fashionable.
They fell just below the girls’ knees and sometimes when they twirled with the
music, their skirts would float up and show a bit of thigh.
Two girls had red hair and Robb’s eye was drawn to them in turn. If he squinted
he could pretend they were Sansa. But they weren’t Sansa. Robb felt a strange
stirring of unease. He didn’t want to dance with another girl. It’d feel like
he was being untrue to her.
It’s just a dance. And what would Jon think if I sit here refusing to dance the
whole night?
The band played on, a loud and jolly rhythm to the music. They’d each had three
pints and Robb’s head felt fuzzy. Jon laughed much more than normal. He smiled
much more than normal. Jon was usually so quiet and apt to brood. His laughter
and smiles were endearing but no less surprising to Robb.
They’d agreed that Jon would fetch the drinks. With his beard, he did look
older. But the last time he went to fetch drinks, he returned with two girls.
Robb’s jaw dropped and he wondered how his friend had managed that.
Well, I am always teasing him about his looks and his hair. Guess girls do
fancy Jon.
And they weren’t just any two girls. They were the redheads that Robb had
noticed earlier.
“Robb…this is Ros,” Jon said leading one buxom girl over to sit next to him.
Her hair was more of a reddish-brown Robb decided. She was still pretty though.
“And this lovely is…Ingrid?”
“Ygritte, you fool,” the other girl laughed. Her hair was redder…a bit closer
to the shade of Sansa’s. But it was clear she had eyes only for Jon.
They drank another pint with the girls and then moved to the dance floor. Ros
was pressed up close to him, whispering in his ear. He felt unsteady on his
feet and his head was starting to hurt. Ros ran her fingers through his curls.
Robb was talking at random, not quite certain what to say. Ros laughed and
simpered at his every word though, telling him was a clever boy and sweet. He
wondered how old Ros was.
“Want to go out back?” she asked at little later.
“Huh?”
“Out back…in the alleyway,” she said and her hand squeezed his ass.
“I, uh…”
Robb looked around and saw Jon and Ygritte kissing at the table. She was
sitting in his lap and his friend had his hands on her waist. He saw Ygritte
move his hands from her waist to her breasts and she started whispered in Jon’s
ear. In the low lighting of the pub, she reminded him of Sansa. His friend
looked dazed and starry-eyed. Robb felt ill.
“Excuse me,” he blurted out and ran from the pub.
He barely made it to the corner before he was vomiting out all the ale he’d
consumed. His eyes clouded with tears and he held onto the wall as the heaving
began again.
“Robb?”
“Leave me alone,” he said hoarsely.
Jon wasn’t always the best at listening though. He walked over and put his hand
on Robb’s shoulder. He was holding his coat that he’d left inside.
“I’m sorry, Robb.”
“Sorry for what? That your friend can’t hold his drink?” Robb asked rubbing off
his face.
“I didn’t mean for you to get sick. I just wanted to get out and have…”
“A bit of fun,” Robb finished testily. “Yes, I know.” He moved over to the
bench beside the entrance and sat down. “I’m sorry, Jon. I know you were trying
to do something to take my mind off Sansa but…those girls just made me think of
her.”
“Because they’re redheads?” Jon asked.
“Partly,” Robb mumbled.
They sat quietly for a few minutes together. Jon was swaying where he sat
though. “Ingrid let me touch her teats,” Jon said conspiratorially. The goofy
grin on his face told Robb that his liquor was still with him.
“I think her name is Ygritte…and I noticed.”
“Sorry…I’ve never touched any before,” he mumbled, back to his usual bashful
self again when it came to girls. Robb shook his head and chuckled at his
friend. “What? Are you saying you’ve touched a girl’s…you know?”
Not answering that, Robb thought. “Jon…we should get home. It’s past midnight.
Willem will be worried about you and I’ll get a beating if they do a bed
check.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry, Robb.”
“It’s fine. It was fun in a way. I just might’ve preferred it with other
girls.”
“Like Sansa?”
“What?”
“I wish Sansa could’ve come,” Jon said with a wink.  "I'd rather dance with her
I think."
Robb would look back on what happened next and wonder what made him act as he
did. But in that moment, a spark of rage consumed him and he hit his best
friend square in the jaw. Jon dropped like a stone to the side walk.
Fucking hells, Robb thought. He roused his friend up off the ground a few
seconds later.
“I’m sorry, Jon.”
“What happened?” Jon asked dazedly while holding his jaw.
“Uh…you ran into Ingrid’s boyfriend. Guess he’s the jealous sort. Let’s get you
home, alright?”
“Alright,” Jon said eyeing him suspiciously and gingerly getting to his feet.
“Robb?” Jon said a few minutes later as they walked down the street.
“Yeah?”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
“It’s alright,” he murmured.  "I'm sorry, too." 
Jon didn't hear that part though and Robb stood beside his friend until he was
well enough for them to walk the rest of the way back.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Summary
     Sansa returns home from school early to find Aunt Lysa has emerged
     from her rooms and has a new acquaintance keeping her company. Robb
     shares his last few weeks of school with Jon before returning to
     Sansa.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Brienne was the kind of friend Sansa had always wanted. The past few moons had
been her happiest since she’d started school…aside from being at home with
Robb. And she loathed the idea of leaving her now. It was April and Aunt Lysa
had decided pull her out of school early to return to the Vale. Robb had made
good on his promises and hounded their aunt until she’d finally given in.
Unfortunately, Sansa was not as glad of it as she might have been a few months
earlier. The war had stayed away from Maidenpool since late January and she had
a true, dear friend now. Her and Brienne had made other friends together as
well.
Clarissa had left the school in February. She was seventeen and need no longer
stay if she didn’t wish to. Sansa was glad though she felt a strange sort of
guilt over it at times.
“Promise to write,” she said tearfully to Brienne that still hung her head
bashfully whenever Sansa showed emotion.
“I will. You could write, too.”
“Of course, I’ll write, silly,” Sansa said. “If you ever come to the Vale, I
hope you’ll come and visit me. Aunt Lysa will likely send me back to school in
September anyway.”
“Perhaps…if the war stays away,” Brienne said. “My father spoke of bringing me
home if things didn’t improve soon. The Lions are winning they say. Perhaps the
North will sue for peace.” Sansa’s face fell and Brienne colored. “I’m sorry,
Sansa. I say such stupid things sometimes.”
“It’s alright,” she said, trying to hide her pricked pride at the thoughts of
the North submitting to Southron rule once more. So many years of war, so many
lives lost…only to have to kneel again.
“You would be most welcome in Tarth if you ever wish to see it.”
“Thank you, Brienne.”
 
Sansa left on the train the next morning and arrived at the familiar station
late that night. Old Higgs had come to fetch her in his cart. Though she had
never formed much of an attachment with him, he was part of her home, had been
ever since she’d come there as a young girl, and Robb certainly had a bond of
sorts with the man that had been busily teaching him things about being a man
for the past few years.
She chatted away to the old man. He did not seem to mind though he said little
in return. Just seeing Old Higgs brought Robb closer in a sense. She could not
wait for him to return home in June. She was anxious to write and tell him that
she was home and hear how things were in Gulltown. She wished to hear of his
latest adventures with Jon.
“How is Aunt Lysa?” she asked Higgs as they approached the estate.
“Your aunt is well,” he said simply.
Well? I don’t know if that’s a term I’d use to describe Aunt Lysa.
It pained her to admit that part of her still wished for the loving
relationship, a substitute for her mother in a sense, that she’d hoped to have
with her aunt all those years ago…before she’d learned the truth of things
after years of indifference.
“Does she still keep to her rooms all day?” Sansa asked without meaning to.
They never spoke of these things to the servants. The servants never spoke of
Aunt Lysa’s strange ways to them.
“No, miss.”
Sansa’s eyes widened in surprised. “Since when?”
“Past few moons she’s been out and about more. Even going to the sept regularly
now,” Higgs said uneasily. “There’s a new septon,” he added as though that
explained it.
“A new septon?”
Aunt Lysa followed the Seven and had the servants take them to the sept to pray
as children but she’d not gone personally in years.
“Yes,” the old man said, chewing at his quid and apparently not wishing to say
anymore. “Septon Baelish comes from the Fingers. He knew your aunt…long ago. He
came to call when he took up his new place.”
“Oh,” Sansa said.
What else was there to say? Perhaps this was a good thing. If the new septon
could get Aunt Lysa to abandon her rooms and her whispered lullabies to long
dead infants and still born babies, perhaps there was hope that she might be
capable of being a loving aunt at last.
Not likely, a less hopeful part of her said, the part that wasn’t a little girl
anymore…the part that had known Clarissa. Remember how callously she sent you
off to school while you wept?
“Well, I hope she is happy. And if the new septon can make her happy then that
is good, yes?”
Old Higgs grunted and shifted his quid to his other cheek…but he did not look
over at Sansa again or speak any more on the subject.
It was dark with no moon when Sansa arrived but she could see the outline of
the house perfectly well as every window seemed to be ablaze with light. A
queer occurrence considering how rarely Aunt Lysa allowed more than the bare
minimum of lighting at night. Sansa recalled several evenings in the library
with Robb where only the fire place and a lantern were permitted, electricity
being considered too costly at times. And of course, they’d only had their
torches in the bedrooms at night, only the one when they had shared a room when
they were smaller.
Our childhood spent in the dark…but spent with each other at least.
On the darkened April evening Sansa should’ve found comfort in the lights
welcoming her home. Instead, something suspicious twisted in her guts and made
her wonder why this change had come about.
Not since the day Sansa and Robb had arrived on the train together as children
had Sansa entered the house to find Aunt Lysa waiting for her. In fact, Sansa
thought that Aunt Lysa had had them brought to her rooms even then.
But now, Aunt Lysa sat in the fancy parlor that had long since been ignored by
everyone in the house save Robb and Sansa when they played hide and seek. It
had been swept and tidied, the dust cloths removed from the furniture though
the air was still stale.
Aunt Lysa’s long dark auburn hair was hanging down her back, freshly washed and
brushed for a change. And instead of her normal robe and nightgown, she was
wearing a pale grey dress. It did not suit her pallor well but it was an
improvement…and certainly called for as there was a man in the robes of a
septon standing beside her in the parlor as Sansa entered.
“Here you are at last, little niece. How long you’ve kept us waiting,” Aunt
Lysa clucked as though Sansa had any say in when trains departed and arrived.
“Come here, child. I want you to meet an old friend of mine who is our new
septon.” Sansa paced forward and dipped a curtsey to the septon. “Sansa…this is
Septon Baelish, a dear old friend from back when I was still Lysa Tully.
Petyr…this is Cat’s daughter.”
The man with grey-green eyes and greying dark hair approached her with a sly
sort of grin. “What a beautiful child,” he commented to Aunt Lysa. His fingers
reached up and stroked Sansa’s cheek. “Why…she looks just like Cat did as a
girl.”
Sansa smiled at first for what girl of four and ten doesn’t like to be called
beautiful and told that she looked like her beloved mother who had passed away
years ago? She would’ve preferred he hadn’t touched her though. Something about
the familiarity from a perfect stranger reminded her of Clarissa.
But Aunt Lysa’s friendly smile from before left her face and her eyes grew
cold. “Yes…she’s like Cat in many ways, I believe,” Aunt Lysa said icily.
There it was again. The disapproval that Sansa had never understood. She knew
nothing of her aunt’s relationship with her mother, only that they had been
sisters. Weren’t sisters close? Sansa was certainly close to her brother. He
was her world.
He is your love.
Perhaps it would’ve been different if their parents had lived or if there had
been other siblings to love but even then, Sansa believed she would always have
loved her elder brother deeply.More purely though? As just a brother? Who can
say?
The septon noted the sudden chill in the air and gave Sansa a dismissive look
before returning his attention to Aunt Lysa once more.
“You are an absolute paragon of the Faith to take on the burden of raising
these two children alone all these years, Lysa. I’m sure they are very grateful
for it. And you’re providing them a fine education on top of a loving home. I
quite marvel at you. I was just speaking to Mrs. Coldwell the other day and
raving about what a perfect example of the Mother made flesh Lysa Arryn is.”
The smile blossomed on Aunt Lysa’s face once more. “I’m certain you are
exaggerating, Petyr,” she said with a girlish giggled that sounded so out of
place coming from her.
He certainly is. She took us in but it’s not as though she’s ever made any
effort to…
“Sansa,” Aunt Lysa said sharply, interrupting her thoughts, “It’s late and past
your bedtime. Septon Baelish will have to return to the sept soon and I have
things to discuss with him. I’ll see you in the morning at breakfast.”
“Yes, Aunt Lysa,” she said dipping another courtesy to them both. “Good
evening, sir.”
Sansa fled from the parlor and raced up the stairs to her old room where Higgs
had already deposited her trunk. Mrs. Jinks came in and brought her fresh
linens.
“Welcome home, miss,” she said warmly. She touched Sansa’s shoulder in an
almost affectionate way. “You are quite grown up. Taller than Old Higgs, I’d
say.”
It was true. She had sprouted quite a bit since summer but Sansa was still
surprised by the observation from Mrs. Jinks.
Mrs. Jinks had often been impatient with both her and Robb as children. She’d
spent quite a bit of time telling them to keep quiet and out of the way. She’d
rarely had much tolerance for any noise or shenanigans they might’ve gotten
themselves into. She looked after them but she always made it seem like a great
trial to do so.
But now she gave Sansa a particular sort of look. Was it concern? Sympathy?
Perhaps she’s missed me…at least a little.
“Thank you, Mrs. Jinks. I hope you are well?” Sansa said politely. A lady
remembers her courtesies. “It is good that Aunt Lysa seems so well.”
Just like Old Higgs, Mrs. Jinks nodded at her words but no longer met her eye.
Sansa wondered at it and wished that Robb would be here sooner. Surely, her
brother being older could help her puzzle these changes out.
And she was ashamed to admit to herself as she laid down for the night that she
no longer hoped to form any stronger bond with Aunt Lysa. She longed for the
Apparition that was Aunt Lysa to return to her rooms and haunt her wing of the
great house and leave Sansa be. She especially hoped that Aunt Lysa was not
serious about seeing her in the morning at breakfast.
You’re a wicked girl to think so, her conscience told her…but she felt that way
all the same.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Summer was nearly here at last and Robb struggled to focus on his studies as
the semester drew to a close. His exams were still in front of him. He
retreated to Willem’s cottage for some peace and quiet away from his unruly
classmates to study at night only to find that distracting in its own way.
Jon and Willem were both quiet sort of men. They were respectful of his
studies. Jon sat reading one of Robb’s history books, absorbed in long ago
battles between the Dragons that had turned on one another and torn the country
apart while fighting over a throne. Willem whittled by the fire. Neither would
disturb him.
But chemistry and trigonometry review could not hold a candle to talking with
his friends and perhaps finding some music on Willem’s old radio. Robb slammed
his books shut.
“I’m through. My brain can absorb no more tonight.” Willem chuckled by the fire
and nodded. Jon scowled and sank deeper in his chair apparently not ready to
give up his reading yet. “Can we play cards?” Robb asked.
“I’ll play with you, lad,” Willem said. He moved over to the table and pulled
the cards from the little basket he kept them in there. “Are you looking
forward to your summer?” he asked as he dealt.
“Yes, very much. Sansa is home already and eager for me to return and keep her
company. She says our aunt has a gentleman caller that is constantly there.
Unfortunately for my aunt, he’s a septon so I can’t see there’s much hope in
that.” Jon huffed in his corner as he continued trying to read and Robb laughed
at his friend’s annoyance. “Come and play with us, Jon. You can keep the book,
you know. Let it keep you company during the summer while you pine for me.” Jon
threw him a dirty look. “My history exam is in the morning and I have no wish
to look at that cursed book again until I return in September. I will even more
gladly leave you the chemistry and trigonometry books. Literature as well if
you like.”
He hoped that would please Jon but his friend looked even more annoyed now. Jon
was so sensitive about his lack of formal education, a cruel irony that he was
basically a servant at a school for young gentlemen, something no one would
ever call him more than likely.
Not educated nor a gentleman though he is both in the ways that matter.
He was as intelligent as any young man Robb had met but he’d never had any
schooling past his primary years. He was learning though, self-taught though he
may be. He was determined to learn what he could.
It’s his father’s fault. If he would’ve just let Jon be…not chasing down his
bastard son, Jon could’ve been placed with a family somewhere perhaps and went
to a village school at least.
Willem had taken Jon from an orphanage up North when he’d learned of his
mother’s death years ago. He had pledge himself to Jon's mother in some way
long ago.  He had hidden him from Rhaegar Targaryen ever since and part of the
hiding had included keeping him removed from official records and such, which
meant no schooling.
But Jon had plans. When he turned seventeen in October, he planned to migrate
to the North and enlist in the army there. He wanted to fight in the war
against his father and the Lions of the South.
Willem was not pleased by those plans but Jon would be a man grown in the eyes
of the authorities then and Willem would have no say. Robb knew it pained Jon
though…to defy Willem. They loved each other well and the old man’s life would
be quite empty once the younger man went off to war.
For now though, Jon was just Jon, the groundskeeper’s bastard. Out of the way
and forgotten by the world at large except for Willem and Robb…and Sansa in a
way.
Jon came over and joined them at the table and Willem dealt him into the game.
“Why’s a septon spending so much time sniffing ‘round your aunt?” Jon asked.
“I don’t know. Sansa says they knew each other as children. She says our aunt
is out of her rooms more than she’s ever been and constantly speaking of Septon
Baelish.”
“What does Sansa say of Septon Baelish?”
“Only that he seems quite taken with Aunt Lysa. He’s always flattering her,
Sansa says. She says Aunt Lysa is just as bad. I fear I’ll be walking into the
middle of some badly written melodramatic romance when I return home.”
Willem chuckled but Jon scowled again and said, “That doesn’t make sense.
Septons can’t take wives or…you know.” He made an obscene gesture with his hand
but then blushed as Willem laughed heartily.
“Septons are still men, lads,” Willem said. “No matter what they spout off
about at the sept, they’re still men.” Willem snorted at their blank looks and
continued, “Just take care, young master. There’s all manner of men in the
world. Perhaps the good septon is just lonely for his old friend’s company. I
imagine being a septon isn’t always easy work, people constantly coming to you
with their troubles. But then there are men that wear a septon’s robes but it
don’t change their true nature for the better.”
“Well, I will bear that in mind, Willem,” Robb said as he glanced at the hand
he’d been dealt and play commenced.
Inwardly, he was not concerned though.
 
A week later, Robb had his trunk packed and his exams were completed. He did
not necessarily have to return for another year of school but now he thought
he’d like to graduate. He thought Sansa would be proud of him and perhaps it
would mean a higher paying job someday.
His plans, such as they were, still considered the possibility of enlisting in
the war but more and more he thought of finding some job where he could earn a
decent wage in the Vale and find a place for him and Sansa to live peaceably on
their own once she came of age. He tried not to cling to his plans too
steadfastly though for part of those plans envisioned a domestic sort of bliss
with Sansa. Her fixing their supper and knitting clothes while he worked all
day…almost as though she were his wife.
Last summer, not long before they’d returned to school, Sansa had grown jealous
over something Jon had written in a letter, thinking that Robb had been kissing
another girl. He hadn’t been. Jon had picked up on Robb always writing to
someone when he first came to school and had become convinced that Robb must
have a girl back home. Robb had played along with the charade never mentioning
that his girl was also his sister.
They’d wound up kissing after a scuffle over this imagined ‘other’ girl. It was
not the first time they had kissed…but it was the first time that Sansa had
called it wrong.
She wanted him as he wanted her but now she was grown enough to know that it
was wrong in the eyes of the world. His feelings for her were unchanged. His
desire to be hers and for her to be his were unchanged. But he would only ever
act as a brother towards her if that was all she wanted.
But in his deepest, darkest thoughts, he could not help but hope that Sansa
might feel differently now that some time had passed. And he hoped that once
they were both of age, they could find a little place and be together always.
And perhaps the world could forget about Robb and Sansa Stark once more as it
had for so many years of their childhood. They had been like bastard children
alone in the world every bit as much as Jon with only each other for comfort.
Jon saw him to the station and they agreed to write as they had the past two
summers.
“Not much longer for me at this old place,” Jon said looking around. “I’ll miss
you this summer though.”
“Well…” Robb began feeling quite bereft at the thoughts of Jon leaving for the
war after his name day and leaving Robb alone here. “It won’t be the same here
without you,” he sighed at last.
“I always knew you were quite taken with me, Stark,” Jon grinned.
“Bugger off,” he laughed.
“I thought we’d enlist together,” Jon said more seriously. “But I think you
finishing school is the best thing. Why go be a soldier and get yourself shot
at if you can find a steady job? And you need to take care of your sister of
course. If I had a sister, I’d want to take care of her, too.”
“Yes, I know you would. There may be some inheritance from Aunt Lysa someday
perhaps but I don’t like to count on that. I’d rather be able to provide for my
sister with a decent job.”
“Of course. Have a good summer, Robb.”
“You, too,” he replied before pulling Jon into a brief hug. “I’ll write soon.”
Robb boarded the train and watched the platform and his dear friend disappear
from view. He waved one final time before he settled down in happy expectation
of seeing his beloved sister by nightfall.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Sansa sat up straighter and listened to the baying of the hounds. Old Higgs had
a couple he kept at the barn. They always made a fuss when Higgs came or went.
She hoped he was returning from the station with Robb.
Aunt Lysa paced the parlor apparently aggravated at this delay…which wasn’t a
delay at all but she would see it that way. Sansa sat calmly on the sofa and
pretended to listen attentively to the septon prate on and on about the
Maiden’s purity. The longer he talked, the more she struggled to contain her
irritation and impatience.
Whenever the septon was invited to dinner, Sansa was expected to attend. She
just wished her aunt hadn’t planned a dinner and invited him the day Robb was
to return.
Sansa had dressed with deliberate care. She’d made herself a new dress out of
some fabric the septon had brought as a gift to her aunt. It was a lush, royal
blue and a soft, light-weight wool, suitable enough for summer. The color
brought out Sansa’s eyes nicely she thought and went well with her auburn hair
which she had chosen to wear down this evening.
Sansa had helped Mrs. Jinks make her aunt a dress with the fabric and then
asked if she could use the rest to make one of her own. Mrs. Jinks had agreed
but Aunt Lysa was displeased. When Sansa came down to dinner wearing her new
dress, she’d hissed in her ear.
“Where’d you get that?”
“I made it from the rest of the material the septon gave you, aunt.”
“Oh…I see,” her aunt said crossly. “And of course, you’d wear it tonight.
Showing off your young body. Do you hope to curry his favor by parading his
gift in front of him?”
“Aunt Lysa…I wouldn’t…”
Whatever words Sansa hoped to say were silenced though when Aunt Lysa turned to
welcome the septon with a sunny smile.
His eyes fell on Sansa in her new blue dress. There was something feral that
flickered in them before he quickly turned away. She realized her mistake then.
Jealousy. Aunt Lysa was jealous of the septon’s attentions.
She needn’t be. I didn’t wear this for him. Why would I? I wore it for Robb.
She had toiled on the dress for two days straight and then altered it to fit
her blossoming figure just a touch more snugly than any dress she’d owned
before. She’d found some scraps of white lace and added them to the end of the
sleeves and at the neckline. She hoped Robb would find her efforts well spent.
Why? Do you wish to curry your brother’s favor?
She wasn’t sure why but it just seemed different. She wished to make an
impression…an impression that she was no longer a little girl. The dress fell
just below her knees. The skirt was full, the bodice was fitted. It seemed like
something a young lady could go dancing in. She wondered if Robb would ever
take her dancing.
Her musings were interrupted when the front door opened. Sansa leapt from the
sofa completely forgetting her manners and rushed to the hall. In walked Robb
with his trunk. He was rumpled and travel worn and perfect, grinning at her as
though they’d just shared a great joke. His smile, that same sweet smile she’d
missed for many moons. The same sweet smile that had warmed her darkest nights
since she was a very little girl and he’d played the shadow game, their torch
held up as he made animals with his hands on the wall to please her.
Robb sat down his trunk and spread his arms. Sansa raced to them and was soon
pulled into a crushing embrace as he twirled her round and round. She laughed
and was breathless when he sat her down again.
“You’re home,” she said, cupping his cheek and looking deep into the blue eyes
that matched her own.
“I’m home,” he said laughing in his joy.
His eyes filled with emotion the next moment though. He looked as though he
would speak again but instead he kissed her tenderly on the forehead, his hand
resting at the back of her head.
“We’ve held back dinner for you, nephew,” Aunt Lysa said crossly from the
doorway of the parlor.
She was still aggravated. She didn’t look the least bit pleased to see Robb.
Septon Baelish stood in the doorway next to Aunt Lysa watching the pair of them
curiously. Sansa took a step back from Robb, forcing him to let go of her head.
If Robb was confused by why his aunt would be waiting for him at all,
especially why she’d bother to hold back dinner on his account, he didn’t show
it. He cleared his throat and said, “I apologize if I’ve kept you waiting,
aunt.”
Their aunt nodded curtly before making the introductions. Robb bowed to the
septon as was fitting but then shook his hand. The septon winced slightly with
the handshake and Robb’s jaw was clenched. Sansa wasn’t certain but it seemed
there was a charge to the air between them, a sizing up of sorts.
Soon after, Aunt Lysa and Septon Baelish made their way to the dining room as
Sansa and Robb followed more slowly behind them.
Sansa held onto Robb’s arm and whispered, “Tonight, we will go to the library
together and catch up on all the things we couldn’t write in our letters, yes?”
“Yes, princess. We will leave the old folks in the parlor and go to our library
to share everything like always. Tonight, I’m all yours.”
“All summer, you mean,” she said grinning widely in sheer happiness to realize
that he was here and they were together again for weeks and weeks on end.Oh,
sweet summer…never end, she prayed.
“All summer,” he concurred. He looked ahead at the back of Aunt Lysa before he
drew her hand up to his mouth.  He pressed a soft kiss there and whispered,
"All summer and always, dear Sansa.”
Chapter End Notes
     ***3/15/18 Update***
     I'm terribly sorry I've not updated this work in over six months
     because I lost my passion for sharing it with others. The story took
     a turn on me I wasn't originally planning when I introduced Jon. I
     really can't write Jon and him not wind up being with Sansa in some
     sense so I've decided to take a break from it. If I get around to
     finishing, I'll have to think long and hard about whether I choose to
     share it here. Thank you for reading and apologies for any
     disappointment.
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