Rivers of Fire and Blood

Sansa III

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Ice and Fire Novels, Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon TV shows. However, I decided to have a little play around with the characters. I do not earn any money from writing these stories, it is for my entertainment and is something I like to share.

Warning explicit sexual content

Sansa and Jon stood at the entrance of the greater bedchambers. It was a room usually only for bedding ceremonies. The last occupants were likely to have been her grandparents, Rickard and Lyarra Stark, although Sansa couldn't be certain of that. The room was always kept clean and had remained unscathed during the turbulence of the past decades. However a new straw mattress had been made, and it was now adorned with new curtains and new bed linen as well as fresh furs. On top of the bed lay two linen nightdresses, one for Sansa and one for Jon. Bringing it home what they were about to do. Sansa had no issue with the notion of a bedding ceremony, or even who she was sharing the bed with. Her concern was whether she would have memories of what had happened to her with the one who had defiled her and abused her. She had physical scars, which she did not concern herself with, but the emotional scars were what worried her most about the bedding. And as much as she told Jon she was fine with what they were about to do, deep down she was scared it would hurt and reignite the nightmares she had sought so long to rid herself from. Jon promised her he was going to make it nice for her, although Sansa had no idea how on earth he thought she might even remotely like it, but she would try, for him.

Jon turned to the four men waiting behind them. "Do you mind if we undress in our chambers alone? We'll call you in when we're ready." he told them.

"Yes Your Grace." Tormund nodded in a way which suggested he knew the reasons why, the rest nodded along with him, and Jon and Sansa finally found themselves alone in the chamber.

Sansa looked around and noticed the screen which would help her keep some semblance of modesty, although she was still going to need Jon's assistance. "Can you help me with this?" she asked, trying to unfasten her cape. Jon approached her and unfastened the tricky clip and removed the Targaryen cloak which she hadn't removed since the ceremony, and placed it on a chair.

"Do you need any more help?" Jon asked, the air crackled with tension between the two of them.

"I can unfasten the laces at the front, but not the clips at the back." she replied, wincing as she realised Jon would see her scars, however she knew he wouldn't find them ugly, but she knew what his reaction would be when he saw them.

"Gods Sansa. What did he do to you?" Jon's voice turned to a whisper, she could hear sadness in it.

Sansa turned to face him. "Nothing he can do now can hurt me. They are a reminder that he is dead and cannot create more." she tried to assure him. "Your job is to make sure I never get another scar." she touched his face. "Can you pass me the nightdress? I can do the rest behind the screen." she said as he took the smaller dress from the bed and hung it over the screen before starting to undress himself. If Sansa had to be honest with herself, Jon's outfit looked just as complicated as hers to remove. He had multiple clips down the front of his black velvet doublet which looked intricate and meddlesome, Sansa was also intrigued to see them up close. "Wait a moment." she slipped her nightdress over her head. "Let me help, those clips look.."

"Idiotic? Fiddly?" Jon suggested.

"Yes, fiddly." Sansa agreed as she studied them. "And absolutely stunning. Where did you get this from?" she asked.

"I spent a day on Dragonstone, I raided a secret library and found these old clothes. I don't think they've been disturbed since they were hidden in the chest I found." he shrugged as he finally got rid of the doublet which Sansa took from him and started to examine the needlework.