Seven Dreams One Kingdom

6-Jon

For the first time since his death, Jon took himself to hand. The mundane and usually uncomfortable experience of having wounds stitched, was not something new to him. Having his wound stitched by a beautiful woman and getting incredibly turned on by it like some green boy, was entirely new. To make matters worse, it was clear from her subsequent actions, that Sansa became aware of his situation as she neared the end of her task. She'd gotten up and been too eager to leave to be oblivious to what had transpired. Now Jon had no idea how he was going to face her when she returned. It hadn't helped matters that the dress he'd loosened to rub the salve on her back, had dropped far enough to reveal enough of her breasts to determine the shape and size. Jon should have looked away and told her. He tried to look away, but when he closed his eyes it only made matters worse. Then Sansa tugged at his breeches and began to sew the wound on his abdomen. The moment she touched his skin, he thought he was going to explode. He'd glanced down at her, her head in a position which could have been mistaken for doing something else, and at that moment, her breasts almost on show, she locked eyes with him, and he wanted her to take him in her mouth. Then, just as he just about managed to regain some semblance of sanity, she bit down on her lip and lowered her eyes, which had darkened and were no longer Tully blue. He'd noticed her moving awkwardly in her seat and deduced from the pink of her cheeks and the darkness of her eyes, he wasn't alone in feeling the tension in the room, or so his imagination told him as he finished himself off.

Once his mind had returned to full working order, he wanted to slap himself for being just like every man Sansa encountered. She had been ogled, humiliated, raped, defiled, tortured, used and abused. He and Sansa were raised as siblings, and he was acting no better than the others. He was ogling her, indulging in fantasies about her taking him in her mouth. He was sick and twisted. Mayhaps it had come from his Targaryen side, they had a thing for their siblings. Or had he come back from death with a warped sense of right and wrong? A sexual deviant? Or was it him believing he was a bastard and born of lust. Whichever it was, this could not carry on. He dressed himself and headed out to see Tormund, they needed to go and visit the Freefolk, he needed to secure their loyalty for the upcoming battle.

Jon found Tormund in the dining room, talking with Pod, seemingly trying to work out how to get into the good graces of Brienne who wasn't anywhere to be seen. When Pod spotted Jon, his eyes went wide with fear as Sansa was technically unprotected. However, Jon could sense her presence through Ghost, who was close to her. Jon sat down and poured himself a horn of ale.

"Where is Lady Sansa?" Pod asked.

"She has gone to visit The Lady Melisandre, about something for the injuries she received from Ramsey." Jon replied. "Don't worry, she's safe. Ghost is with her. He can do far more damage than any of us."

"He's right. I've seen what that direwolf can do. Killed two fucking Thenns, then ate them." Tormund grinned. "Served em right. Vicious fuckers. What can I do for you King Crow?"

"We need to go see the Freefolk, make sure they will help us in the battle." Jon told him. "I was thinking about going early tomorrow morning. How far away are they?"

"Just over half a day's ride." Tormund shrugged. "You alright boy." he frowned. "You look...flustered."

"Tired, worried about the battle. Coming to terms with coming back to life and then having Sansa back. It has been a strange week."

"Ha, you need more goats milk. A hangover is the best cure for stress. It hurts like fuck, so you no longer care about what was worrying you in the first place." he laughed.

"When we get to camp tomorrow night, I'll get very drunk, I promise. At least I won't have to worry about throwing up all over Sansa."

"You two are still sharing a bed?" Tormund said quietly, frowning.