Seven Dreams One Kingdom

30-Jon

Jon and Sansa had spent all night in Summerhall, exploring and making love all over the ruins, or so it had seemed. When they finally got some rest, they woke in the cold bedroom of the King's Bedding Chamber. Even closing the voile didn't send them back to the beautiful warmth of Summerhall, which had been night when they left. Knowing Sansa's rooms would be warmed as they had instructed the fire to be kept lit until they decided to return. They both made water in the small privy and returned to the warmth of Sansa's chambers, where they curled up in the furs and fell back to sleep.

It was afternoon when they finally got up. Although they weren't supposed to be performing any duties, and the castle was pretty much asleep from the previous night's festivities, nothing truly stopped; bread still needed baking, animals needed feeding, the fires needed stoking... the list went on. Importantly, Jon wanted Tyrion Lannister to leave Winterfell. The dwarf hadn't just been on a mission to talk Jon into a marriage alliance with Daenerys, he was trying to stoke the fires of discord between the northern Lords. He'd also tried to persuade the Vale Lords to abandon the north and support Daenerys. He hadn't bothered with Lady Margaery, Jon suspected he would try reaching out through Dickon. Therefore, Jon and Sansa had ensured they appeared to be angry with one another to test the loyalty of their bannermen and allies. Those closest to them knew of the ploy, and they were split into divided loyalties. Davos, Edd and Pod had aligned with Jon, while Margaery and Brienne were with Sansa. Nobody of significance would talk to these close members of the royal council, however the castle staff and Winter Town smallfolk were a different matter. This was where Lady Margaery was a genius. She had a way with the children and how to make the smallfolk feel special. Jon had told her it was something she did a lot in Kings Landing. Clearly for her own gain, but it looked good to outsiders. This also allowed her to recruit spies, and they had become of great use to them since Tyrion arrived. Bronn's arrival had put them on an even higher alert.

"Do you think he's gone?" Sansa asked as Jon returned from the privy.

"Tyrion? Aye, If he knows what's best for him." Jon nodded sitting beside her on the bed, stroking her hair, which was messy from their almost non-stop coupling. "You alright?"

"A little sore." Sansa admitted, blushing. "But considering how many times..."

"I didn't mean that." Jon blushed. "Sorry.."

"No need. Is was worth it." Sansa smiled.

"I meant where I stabbed you in the chest." Jon frowned as she presented her naked breast, but there was no mark.

"There's nothing there, as if it never happened? Do you think you really did you stab me, or was it some strange vision?" Sansa seemed just as confused as Jon.

"If it were a vision, we were both in it together." Jon walked over to his clothes, which were laying over his usual chair next to the fire. He pulled Dark Sister from its scabbard and examined it. The blade was still white and shining. Jon touched it; the blade was hot, then suddenly it turned red. Jon dropped it from shock. He looked at the hand which had touched the blade, but there was no mark to suggest the presence of the scorching heat. Jon looked up at Sansa, who was gazing down in horror. She quickly climbed out of bed to examine the sword. "Don't touch it. It'll burn you."

"I'm not stupid!" Sansa rolled her eyes. "Let me see your hand, where it touched the blade." Jon showed her his hand. "You're a dragon..." she stopped and looked at his face. "Jon, come with me, over to the window." Jon followed her, the window wasn't open, but he could still feel the draft, he shivered a little.

"You'll catch your death wearing nothing." he japed.

"I'm a Stark, I don't mind the cold." she sighed. "Face me." she placed her hands on the side of his face and stared into his eyes, examining them. "They're still a dark blue/purple colour."