Tired: Rockstar Jon

Winter's Child

Chapter 6: A Harsh Reality

In Westeros, each noble house is known to have an affinity for a particular type of magic. For thousands of years, House Stark was stronger than all of them- holding the north with mages who could command winter herself. When Torrhen Stark knelt to Aegon Targaryen to protect The North from the wrath of dragon flame, however, the Starks forgot the language of winter- their gifts faded into legend. Since then, the children of House Stark have traditionally been born as wargs, or skinchangers.

Sansa Stark is neither- an outcast in her own family, no matter how hard she prays. Years pass, and Sansa’s dreams remain silent, devoid of wolves, while water refuses to rise at her fingertips as it does for Robb. Only Jon, who keeps the secret of his own magic, comes close to understanding. No matter how Sansa wishes she could stay with him, they walk different paths, and she has to travel south- reconciling herself to a life away from Winterfell.

Until they cut off her father's head, and Sansa Stark freezes over all of Blackwater Bay in her grief.

Sansa’s fury awakens in her a power that hasn’t been seen in Westeros since the arrival of Aegon the Conqueror. As a result, the very fate of Westeros is altered.

-

From Essos across the Narrow Sea- from the furthest reaches of the North to the balmy days of the South, the world is a harsh place. Amidst its severity, though, it is filled with wonders beyond even imagination.

Estimated Sexual Abilities of Austen Men

In no particular order within tier

Top Tier:

Mr. Mainwaring: to have the near undying loyalty of the exceedingly selfish Lady Susan, this man must be a sex god

Henry Crawford: he knows he’s not handsome, he wants women to love him, he’d put in the work. Also one of the only men to be rated by a woman who has had sex before.

Henry Tilney: he cares about things women like, high emotional intelligence, and extremely kind.

Frederick Wentworth: passion and experience (I imagine), also has high emotional intelligence when he’s not being a dufus.

Colonel Brandon: passionate, thinks about other people’s feelings a lot, self-sacrificial

John Knightley: I think there’s a good reason that they keep banging out those kids

Good Tier:

William Price: athletic, cares about his sister a lot (good sign), and gives good presents. He’s only nineteen in the story which is why he has room to improve.

Captain Harville: Obviously

Mr. Morland: dude isn’t even on page, but in my head Mrs. Morland enjoyed making all ten of those children.

Colonel Fitzwilliam: I think he’d be good, but not awesome.

Fitzwilliam Darcy: he’s a bit stiff… I think it might take some time for him to get good at it

Charles Bingley: I get the feeling he’d be on a race to the end, and maybe not the best communicator at first. Will improve.

Mr. Gardiner: Just because he’s awesome and seems to respect women

Captain Benwick: poetry and passion!

Robert Martin: seems like a pretty romantic guy, also works on a farm so probably athletic.

John Willoughby: Mostly because of experience, but he is also pretty passionate. He’s also super hot, Miss Grey knew what she was getting into. But this guy can only go downhill from here.

Reginald DeCourcy: He’s a sweetheart, an occasionally dumb sweetheart

Mr. Bennet: Is he lazy in most domains of life? Yes. But Mrs. Bennet wasn’t just trying for that heir, I’m telling you folks. Maybe he’s just trying to make her unable to talk 😉

Mediocre but can improve tier:

George Knightley: I don’t have a great reason but I’m putting him here. Don’t worry, John will give him some tips.

Frank Churchill: He’s got passion, but he’s so darn selfish and doesn’t seem to send that much time thinking about Jane’s feelings

Edward Ferrars: I just see him being a nervous wreak the first few times, it’ll get better

James Morland: Dude, I’m just disappointed with you in general. Being led by lust, not protecting your sister. I hope you grow a lot before you try to get engaged again.

Charles Musgrove: could be good, but Mary never seems to appreciate the effort he puts in so he kind of gave up

Tom Bertram: Selfish, never has to try for anything, but he did reform so maybe he can get better here too

Edmund Bertram: Repressed and selfish. He needs to actually start listening to what women say if he’s going to improve and there is a whole book of him doing exactly the opposite…

Just bad:

James Rushworth: Maria was not impressed at all, despite how much “taller” he was

Captain Tilney: riding on good looks and money, selfish

John Thorpe: Selfish and he never shuts up. I have trouble imaging him getting a woman to sleep with him without paying her.

George Wickham: selfish and good looking, he’s not doing any work. He thinks you should be honoured to sleep with him.

Robert Ferrars: selfish and not even good looking. There is nothing here. Lucy did not win people.

Mr. Elton: selfish, full of himself, and low emotional intelligence

Mr. Woodhouse: I can’t even imagine, if he didn’t have children I’d say he was a virgin

Mr. Collins: The woman he is trying to please is not his wife.

Mr. Elliot: cruel to his first wife and not even handsome!

Sir Walter Elliot: I don’t think any part of his personality would tend toward being a “giver”, however, if you like mirrors…

John Dashwood: exactly the opposite of a “giver”

No Data: We interviewed Lady Bertram for information on Sir Thomas, but she confessed that with full consent, she has always fallen asleep during sex. Given her personality, we decided that this information has no bearing on Sir Thomas’s abilities. She did say that giving birth was, “Very disagreeable.”

Criteria: In the domain of F/M sex, communication is key, so we need a man who is willing to listen to what women say. Also, selfishness is obviously a negative trait when it comes to a happy sexual partner of either gender. Some of this is just vibes, but I think there is a fair amount of canon information about how much men respect women, especially their sisters. 

Feel very free to fight me in the reblogs. The only hill I will die on is that Henry Crawford’s rating is correct 😉

WIP | I’m not sure where I am going with this illustration yet but… here is the work in progress for now. Everything is jotted down even the ribbon in Sansa’s hand that she had giving to Lady. For anyone wondering, yes Sansa Stark is my favourite and I currently have a few other illustrations jotted down of her and ready to be worked on. The colours may change and the design may change, however for now this is what it looks like. Thank you so much for all the love and comments I have received on my other illustrations, I appreciate them greatly! 

Incorrect GoT Quotes - 12/?

Game of Thrones by Pablo Olivera

I know everyone is on the pp train as they should but what’s happening with politician Jon? Anything worth sharing?

Calculated Risk

Pairing: Jon Snow x Sansa Stark

Rating: M for mature audiences

Word count: 521

Tags: politician Jon, journalist Sansa, established relationship

He is 33 years old and doesn’t know how to tie his own tie.

He is 33 years old and insurmountably aware of how pathetic it is that he doesn’t know how to tie his own tie.

However, no one can say that shame isn’t a legitimate motivator, because it keeps the tie on his neck as much as the drill sergeant beside him does.

“Stop scowling,” says Sansa, fingers pressing into the inside of his arm.

“I’m not scowling,” Jon mutters back, “This is just my face.”

She beams over her shoulder at the Hornwoods, holding up a single finger, before she turns back toward him. 

“Make it not your face,” She says, through shiny, straight teeth.

At the urge to pull at his tie, Jon takes a swig of too sweet champagne, swallowing the taste as well as the wince that follows. He craves beer. The cheap shitty kind that comes in a twelve pack and never fails to make him wish that he was dead the next morning.

“I’m starving,” He says under his breath. “You said there would be food here.”

“There is.” She turns around, plucking from a passing tray. She lifts a tiny little skewer to his mouth with glossy, manicured fingers, “Have a cucumber sandwich.”

“Real food,” Jon just barely gets out, before she takes the opportunity to pop the whole thing in his mouth. It’s cool, bland, and watery in his mouth. He’s about to tell her so when she raises a single eyebrow.

He finishes his food rather than talk and chew at the same time.

Sansa dabs at the corner of his mouth with her pretty little thumb, her approval as condescending as that of someone in possession of a newly house trained puppy.

As soon as they get home, he’s going to spank her. 

“This is my event,” He says now, irritable, “Shouldn’t I get to dictate what food we serve?”

“And what would you have everyone eating?” Her head tilts to the side, “Baby back ribs? Brisket? Philadelphia cheesesteaks?”

This time, he does scowl, a flush crawling up his neck.

“At least everyone would leave full.”

“You eat like a teenager. Smile.”

Before Jon can open his mouth to argue, she cuts him off with a smile of her own, white and blinding. 

“Smile. Or you’re not getting laid tonight.”

“Bet you I will,” he says, but through a baring of his teeth that feels a lot closer to a grimace than a smile.

Sansa ignores him.

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it silly boy?” She kisses him on the lips lightly. “Keep smiling. Here comes Mr. Manderly. Don’t forget to ask him about his boats.”

She calls over to Mrs. Hornwood, who makes an exclamation of delight at the sight of her. She leaves him to the wolves—one huge, barrel chested congressman that goes by the last name Manderly in particular—without so much as a second glance. 

For the millionth time, he wonders why on earth he wants to marry her. But it won’t be long before she reminds him.

i’ve made a mistake guys i photoshopped kit into the princess diaries poster and i can’t stop laughing help me

Pride & Prejudice AUs

You Look Like A Movie, You Sound Like A Song 2k @jonsastan

She had met Jon Targaryen there. It was a complete accident and at first, Sansa thought, a complete misfortune. He was drenched from an impromptu swim in his pond, and she was flustered, not wanting him to think she was vying for his attention. But as she had attempted to make her hurried escape, he had found her and invited her parents to stroll with him around the gardens. He had offered her kindness, and thoughtfulness, he had talked with her parents, discussed the present state of politics with her father and chatted knowledgeably about gardens with her mother.

A Certain Step Toward Falling in Love 2k by @comma-splice

Jon Snow returns North after departing abruptly one year ago.

The Bennet Sisters - a P&P AU comic by @melinaillustrations

P&P Gifset by @sardoniyx, P&P Gifset by @dcbicki, P&P Gifset by deactivated

Persuasion AUs

Who Loves Longest, Who loves Best 1k by @ladysaruka

After refusing him years ago, Sansa sees her cousin once again.

Persuasion edits one, two , three by @glueck

Mansfield Park AUs

Half Agony, Half Hope 10k, incomplete by @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth

After the death of his disgraced mother, Jon Snow is taken in by his uncle's family, the Starks of Winterfell. He grows up alongside his cousins, including the beautiful and kind-hearted Sansa, but knowing he can never truly be their equal, he fears he has little choice but to leave the place he's come to call home. corresponding moodboard

Catch Me If You Can 34k (P&P and Emma inspired too) by @ben-barnes-is-my-husband

Set in the countryside of Regency England, Jon Snow has been in love with Sansa Stark for as long as he can remember. He wants her as his wife, but Sansa is not sure she wants to be a wife at all, and she knows she doesn’t want to marry the pragmatic and boring Jon. She’d rather help Theon Greyjoy come out of his shell and play matchmaker. But then Jaime Lannister comes to town and Jon finds he has some serious competition for Sansa…

Moments Like This (So Few and Far Between) 3k by @lydiamartenism

Mama and Papa left the house to go pick up Jon, the son of her father’s oldest friend. Three weeks ago, the phone rang and their parent’s announced that Jon would be coming to live with them since his mother passed away and had no one else to take care of him.

Northanger Abbey AUs

The Lady in White 7k by @kissed-by-circe

Dragonstone Manor had looked like it had woken only a few days earlier, after a slumber of several years, if not decades, and Sansa had felt like the heroine of a gothic novel, a mysterious, naive girl with a dark past or a dark secret, arriving at the opening scene of the most dramatic story of all times. Or Sansa as Katherine Morland in a Jane Eyre Setting.

Sense & Sensibility AUs

In Such Jocund Company 2k @maybetwice

It would be no matter at all for Captain Snow to return to the north after seven months’ absence, had Sansa’s heart not changed entirely in that time. A remix of Colonel Brandon and Marianne Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility.

Emma & Clueless AUs

if i loved you less 2k by @ladystarks

Her father has, often and fondly, told Sansa that she and Mr. Snow bite at each other like wolves, but he hardly understood that their verbal sparring was as exhilarating as a sport well done, or a match coming together under Sansa’s skilled hands. corresponding artwork

Sansa: A NOVEL in Five Parts 15k by @imagineagreatadventure

Sansa Stark, handsome, clever, rich, hopes to establish herself as her town's foremost matchmaker. After seeing her governess Miss Shae married to the rich and clever Mr. Tyrion Lannister, she feels as though she deserves that title. Her dear friend and cousin, Jon Targaryen, heartily disagrees and is quite proven right when Sansa sets her sights on marrying off her newest and dearest friend Jeyne Poole to the vicar Mr. Baelish.

A Baldwin and a Betty 2k

Jon drives to the Valley to give Sansa a ride home.

Emma AU art by @dcvahkiin and Clueless art by wolvesofspring

Emma Gifset by @dcbicki

General Regency AUs

No Notion of Loving by Halves 2k @darkmagyk

The Stark cousin, Jon, goes home to discuss matters concerning the entail on Winterfell. In which Jon is a really good guy, and I flagrantly disregard how entails actually work.

Manners and Misunderstandings 114k, WIP by @x-winging-it

The Stark sisters have travelled all the way to London to begin their first season, leaving behind the familiar world of Winterfell Hall and a disappointed Jon Stark- with whom the eldest Miss Stark has been convinced to break off a connection. In London they join family friends the Baratheons and the fashionable young Tyrells in a world of romance and balls. Meanwhile Gendry Waters has been plucked out of the life he knew to become his ailing father's heir, Robb, Theon and later Rickon embark on military careers in the Napoleonic wars, and their aunt Lysa makes a foolish marriage. When tragedy hits the family, they must come together, learning how manners may hide monsters and the best people are often those misunderstood by society.

You Could Draw Me to the Gallows 2k by @azulaahai

After having eloped from home with and subsequently been abandoned by wealthy heir Joffrey Baratheon, Sansa Stark refuses to come home. Having caused a scandal that is sure to prevent her from ever marrying, she is adamant not to bring further shame to the family name by returning to Winterfell. Until, that is, a visitor comes to her - Jon Snow, an old family friend, determined to bring Sansa with him back north. He has a solution to offer her - a proposal with the potential to change both of their lives.

A Perilous Dance Indeed & fiercely, tenderly and eternally 27k by @amymel86

He should either look away or interrupt this improper little meeting, he knows. For some unfathomable reason, he does neither. The two look far too intimate for Jon’s liking, although he feels he should have come to expect it to be so. A romantic like Sansa – however proper she is – would simply adore overt flirtations and a secret tête-à-tête. Even from where he stands, Jon can see the way in which she has stars set in her eyes like precious cut stones. He only hopes the man for whom they shine is deserving of it. *** Cousin Jon is to inherit Winterfell Manor and its estate after the untimely death of his uncle leaves a widow and two daughters. Sansa is expectant of an imminent proposal from her dear beau, Harrold Hardyng and everything will be absolutely, stunningly, utterly fine.

Waiting for Your Slippered Feet 49k by @wintry-ritu

Lady Sansa Stark has always looked forward to her come-out season in London, the balls, the rides in Hyde Park, evenings at Vauxhall, the romance and wonder of it all. Never had she imagined that it would happen like this, with her parents gone and her younger siblings underfoot. Now, all Sansa wants is for it all to be over quickly so she can get back to Winterfell. She needs a kind, amiable man who will be brave enough to take on his wife's siblings. That should not be so hard to find in London, should it? And while she is most grateful for Jon Targaryen's help, why must her cousin be so distracting?

To Make You Love Me 16k incomplete and orphaned

When Ned Stark dies, he leaves behind his wife, two daughters, and his family’s estate at Winterfell. What follows is a series of unwanted marriage proposals, houseguests who far outstay their welcome, and Arya parading around in a comically large hat and an oil-paint mustache as she declares herself the new ‘Lord of Winterfell,’ in an attempt to dissuade her sister’s suitors. However, when Mr. Jon Snow — their distant cousin and Ned’s appointed heir to the estate — comes to call, an oil-paint mustache is hardly enough to deter him from courting Miss Sansa Stark. And she thinks, perhaps, that a man could marry her for love more than her claim, after all.

Mine for a Season 101k by @vivilove-jonsa

Colonel Jon Targaryen is a single man in possession of a good fortune who claims no interest in finding himself a wife. With his war wounds, he thinks no young lady would want him anyway for anything beyond the allure of his pocketbook. Fortunately and unbeknownst to him, Fate has chosen to find a wife for him and will even deliver her right to his doorstep. Taking on the responsibility of shepherding a young lady about for a Season in London is not at all what Jon had wished to do but he had accepted out of a sense of familial duty. However, once he meets Sansa again after only having met her years ago as a child, he may not consider it a duty so much as a torment.

a lady of winterfell 185k, WIP by @wandering-scavenger

She bit her lip and exhaled shakily, “If you are so sickened by the prospect of marrying me, we should be able to obtain an annulment easily enough with your father’s connections.” “I will do no such thing.” he snapped, refusing to look at her. Sansa had never felt more rejected than she did at that moment. Her past experiences of being humiliated at the hand of Joffrey did not feel as painful as this. Even so, she could not allow him to see the weakness in her, not now. “I will not be left out, Jon.” she said, tilting her chin up to look down at him. He grimaced. They were silent for longer than she cared to count, but each second that he did not speak chipped away at her resolve and her ability to withhold her tears. Jon did not want her, and she could not blame him. Who could ever want her? It should not have distressed her as much as it did. She was never his favourite sister, she who treated him as a stranger since she was old enough to understand what a bastard was. A tear slipped down to her face until she tasted the salt of it on her lips. “If we marry, we will remain so.” corresponding gifset

moth's wings 47k by @cellsshapedlikestars

Sansa was determined to convince her aunt to let Arya debut, which is how she finds herself in her current predicament. “Who is this secret gentleman who has asked for your hand?” Aunt Lysa asks, and Sansa knows from her tone that she does not believe. (She has every right not to believe, for it is not true.) And then Sansa does something very, very foolish. She says a name. “The Duke of Dragonstone!” Or, Sansa fakes an engagement so that Arya can debut and marry the man she loves. The only problem? Her fake fiance just so happens to be in the city when he was not supposed to be.

An Understanding 2k, WIP by @thewolvescalledmehome

At the start of Sansa Stark's third London Season, she decides it will be her last. She will secure a husband by the end of the final ball. Jon Snow is new to the London Season and high society. He never expected to inherit money or property from an unknown uncle. When they meet at a ball, Sansa gets an idea.

you're in my blood like holy wine 72k

Sansa finds it difficult to look at Jon’s face, with its weathered lines and cragginess. It is the face of the North and a face that northerners trust; the face of Sansa’s brothers and her father, who had been loved and respected by their tenants as their forefathers had been when they were kings. How can Sansa feel anything but resentment, looking into that face and knowing that all of her years of hard work will never earn her the respect that that profile engenders within seconds? But she does. It is a small, burning coal of something that must be smothered.

PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALES -- next week -> LITTLE WOMEN

I’ve got a funny idea with damsel in distress role reversal. How about Jon’s a city boy who’s dad just died and the rest of the family cut him off from the money so he takes whatever chuck of $ he had to himself and buys a house in the woods. On the private dirt road to his house his fancy suv (that has no awd) gets stuck in the snow. And then up rolls Sansa (his new and only neighbor for miles) in a big truck with 4x4 wondering who’s driving down her road. She’s completely unimpressed with his brand new carhartt pants (did he iron them??) and name brand flannel that’s too thin but she takes him to her house and explains the house he bought is unlivable, the realtors had showed him a picture that was a decade old. Of course a blizzard happens and he has to stay for a week and learn how to rough it but he’s eager to learn and while a little sheltered not as shallow as she thought. Cupid hits them both. Happily ever after, tada!

a note about prompts in general: I have about 25 of them sitting in my inbox and I'm sorry I haven't done them yet! To be honest, a lot of them are for media I have never consumed, and so I need to at least read the synopses of the movies, TV shows & books. (I might try to watch the movies, but I know I won't watch the shows or read the books... I have a terrible attention span anymore)

a note about this prompt specifically: I always feel guilty when I get a fairly specific prompt and then write something that... well, isn't that. I took the basic premise of this and wrote what came into my head, so I'm sorry it's not the exact thing you asked for! But thank you for the prompt!!

...

read it on ao3 here

ephemera: chapter 26

...

Sansa hums along to the radio as she drives.

It's getting dark, and she's not the biggest fan of driving these back roads at night, but she's got Lady with her, so she isn't quite so worried. She'd gone over to Greywater to drop off some stuff for her dad, and the Reeds had invited her to stay for dinner, and now she's late getting back.

As she rounds a bend, she slows when she sees a car on the side of the road, it's hazards on, a man standing next to the vehicle, head bowed over a phone that she knows instantly won't have service. They're in the deepest part of the woods here, it's a dead zone.

It isn't tourist season, she thinks. That's what he has to be – no one ventures out this far unless they're a tourist, but usually they only come around in the autumn to ooh and aah at the changing leaves.

She slows down to a crawl and leans over to roll down her passenger side window, the night air sweeping in and making her shiver, even in her coat. It's technically spring, but up here, it still gets cold at night.

“Flat tire?” she calls to the man, who had looked up from his phone the moment he'd noticed her headlights.

“Seems like it,” he says, and she can't quite read the tone in his voice.

He's got tourist clothes on. Expensive looking pants that she thinks he's even ironed, and a flannel that's too thin for this weather. She's seen it before, the richer tourists all dress the same.

“You won't get service out here,” she nods down at his phone, and he sighs.

“Yeah, sort of figured that.” He doesn't put his phone away, though. He keeps it in his hand, clutching at it, and she guesses it's a comfort thing. Tourists like their phones.

Sansa has a phone, but she sometimes forgets about it because service is so spotty out here, it's sometimes useless. When it is working, though, she likes to see what's going on in the outside world. She even downloaded some app called TikTok and when the 5G is working, she likes to scroll through it at night and wonder what her life might be like if she lived somewhere that wasn't Winterfell.

“You got a spare?” she asks.

“I would assume,” he shrugs, and looks towards the trunk of the sedan.

If it weren't for Lady, Sansa would tell the man she'll go and find Jory to come help. The Cassels own a tow service and during tourist season, they troll these back roads looking for people exactly like this – city folk who bring their fancy sedans out here, only to find barely-paved roads and tons of potholes and deer.

But she does have Lady, and so instead, she backs her truck up, then pulls in behind the tourist's sedan so that her headlights illuminate it, and she keeps them on even after she shuts off the engine.

Lady is out first, and Sansa follows.

To his credit, the tourist doesn't flinch back from Lady, like most of them do. Lady's a big dog, and she's scary looking, even if Sansa knows she's got a gentle heart. Well, she has a gentle heart until someone threatens Sansa. Then Lady turns as feral as Shaggydog.

“You don't know if you have a spare?” she asks, trying to keep a tone out of her voice.

The man sighs and runs a hand through his hair, a mop of dark curls that look soft and inviting. That's another thing Sansa doesn't mind about the tourists – their hair always looks so shiny. Last year, she'd even gotten some recommendations from a few, and Sansa had gone online and ordered some products for herself, using her carefully saved money. An unnecessary expense, but every time she uses them, she spends the whole day touching and smelling her own hair, and it makes her happy.

“It's a rental,” the man explains. “So I assume there's a spare.”

“I'm guessing you don't know how to change it?” she asks, once again trying to keep that tone out of her voice, though it doesn't quite work. The tone that says, of course you don't know how. Look at you, pretty boy.

“I live in King's Landing,” the man shrugs again. If he hears the tone, he doesn't seem bothered by it. “I don't drive much.”

She nods, because that makes sense. She remembers visiting King's Landing once, with her parents. It had been a big deal, she'd been so excited to go, except she remembers getting there and everything was just so... much. So many people and the buildings rising like mountains around her and all the noise. And she remembers the Metro, how confusing it had been, how terrifying. She'd been a tourist there, she realizes - wide eyed and frightened and useless out of her element. He might not know how to change a tire, but she bets this man wouldn't blink twice at using the Metro.

“Open the trunk,” she instructs, and he follows her direction without question. Inside, she does find a spare tire, but no jack or tire iron. Useless.

Luckily, she has both in her truck, and so she goes back and retrieves them.

“Here,” she says, placing the jack under the jacking point. “Lift that?”

Again, he follows her direction without question, and it gives her pause. Sansa knows what she looks like, she knows most men don't take her very seriously. Not even in Winterfell, where they know her. She's always been the least useful of her siblings. The Stark who likes pretty things, always daydreaming, her head stuck in the clouds. But the tourist follows her instructions, no hesitation.

She may be the most useless of her siblings, but she does know things. And she certainly knows how to change a tire.

She watches him jack the car up, and that's when she notices the muscles in his arms, in his shoulders, through the thin material of his flimsy flannel, his forearms flexing where he's rolled up his sleeves. She decides to ignore that, and instead goes to haul the spare out of the trunk.

“Here, you use this to loosen the lug nuts,” she says, handing him the tire iron and pointing to where he needs to use them, and he does it. When the flat tire is off, she rolls him the spare and he puts it on, and she decides she doesn't mind this tourist. By now, most of them would be complaining, but he hasn't made a face, he hasn't let out a heavy sigh, he hasn't even frowned at her.

Not what she'd expect from someone with those shoes. Sansa may not be an expert, but she's spent enough time looking longingly at fashion magazines that some of the tourists leave behind (late at night, beneath her covers) to recognize the brand he's wearing. And now that he's rolled up his sleeves, she can see the watch on his wrist that she knows must cost more than anything she owns, or will ever own. He's lucky she's the one who found him. They're mostly good people out here, but there's a few bad seeds who would kill this man for his watch alone.

“This should get you to the next town, at least,” she says. She doesn't tell him the next town is her own home. “They can replace it there.” And then, because he keeps silent as he puts the lug nuts back on, she asks, “where are you headed, anyways?”

“Place called Winterfell,” he says, tightening the last of the lug nuts.

“What business you got in Winterfell?” she asks in surprise, caught off guard. It isn't tourist season, and no one ever has a reason to come to their small town otherwise.

“Oh,” he stands, slipping his flannel off and using it to wipe at his hands, the small bits of grease she can see spotting them. “I uh...” he starts, eyes on his hands as he keeps scrubbing at them, though the grease is long gone. “My mom's from there,” he says finally.

“Your mama?” Sansa asks, surprise making her blurt out another stupid question. “What's her name?”

The man looks up at her, studies her for a moment, before he says, “Lyanna Snow.”

“No way,” she breathes.

“You know her?” he asks, and something flares behind his eyes, something that looks almost... desperate?

“Oh, no, not personally,” she shakes her head. “But my daddy... he used to talk about her. They were friends. Said she ran off to the city, because-” Because she got pregnant by some tourist. Followed him to the city. “Daddy says they lost touch a long time ago, but he still talks about her,” she finishes lamely.

“Yeah,” the man says, shoulders deflating a little. “She died when I was young. I didn't even know she was from there, until I found her birth certificate a few months ago in dad's paperwork. Did some research and I thought... well, maybe I'd come check it out. See if I've still got family out here or something.”

Sansa wishes she hadn't stopped. She wishes she'd continued on and gotten Jory.

She could choose not to say anything. Let him continue on to Winterfell on his own, let him learn the truth that way. But the idea of it... no, she can't do that.

“You won't find much,” she says softly. “The Snows died a few years ago, and Lyanna was their only child. You might have some distant kin in the area, but nothing direct.”

“Oh.”

That's all he says, but it makes something deep in Sansa's chest ache.

“I didn't even catch your name,” she says, because she can't stand the silence, or the way his eyes go distant as he stares off into the dark woods.

“Jon,” he turns back to her, blinking slowly.

“I'm Sansa Stark,” she says, holding out her hand. “It's nice to meet you, Jon Snow.”

He winces as he takes her hand, “it's Targaryen, actually. Mom gave me my dad's last name. I've thought about changing it, but-” he cuts himself off, as if he's decided he's sharing too much information, and takes his hand back. “Will that spare get me back to King's Landing?” he asks, and she feels another pang in her chest, a twisting of her heart. He's going to go back to the city, because he's not going to find the family he was looking for out here.

“Probably shouldn't,” she says truthfully. “Not good for the car, you should stop as soon as you find the nearest shop.” Then, after a slight hesitation, “Winterfell's the closest, and the Cassels will give you a good deal on a new tire, I promise,” she says. “I'll call them up the minute they open and let them know you're comin'.” Before she can think it through, she continues, “the Lodge has vacancies.”

“The Lodge?”

She nods, feeling her face go a bit hot, and she's grateful for the darkness. “It's like a hotel. My family owns it. We've got plenty of openings since it isn't tourist season.”

He nods slowly, as though he isn't going to take her up on the offer, but he doesn't want to offend her.

“And I was thinkin', you know,” she keeps going, “my daddy might want to meet you. He could tell you all sorts of things about your mama.”

Hope flashes in his eyes again, rekindled, and that ache pangs in her chest.

“I don't want to impose,” he says, carefully, and she shakes her head.

“Don't you worry about that,” she says. “I'm sure daddy would love to meet you. He always wondered what happened to her.”

The man, Jon, nods, still cautiously, as if he's trying not to get his hopes up. But she can see the change in him – she knows he's not going back to the city. At least not tonight.

“You can follow me if you want,” she offers.

“Alright,” he agrees.

They get back into their vehicles and she pulls out first and drives slowly, making sure he keeps up, making sure another pothole doesn't waylay him again. He has no reason to trust her, but he still follows, and she might call him naive if she weren't just as stupid for telling a strange man on a dark road to follow her home.

Yet there's something in her that trusts him, that knows he's telling the truth.

She's leading Lyanna's boy home.