#catelyn and rickon as the boy was being born i think ned would have refused to make the decision. which isn’t the same as saying ‘that’s

[thewingedwolf]

rewatching hotd & i wonder just a bit - i never made the connection that viserys may have let them attempt to save Aemma if she hadn’t said that she didn’t want to have anymore kids. i think that moment, the moment he realized that his final chance at a boy may die and his wife will refuse to have another, is the moment she becomes disposable to him.

and of course - it’s not worth it. the theoretical boy will never be worth the life of the living, breathing partner he has who loves and trusts him enough to clearly state that she is tired of mourning her babies. even if little baelor had lived, he would have been just as fucked as Aegon II was; raised by a father who resents his very existence because it is a reminder of the ways in which he failed as a husband to Aemma and a father to Rhaenyra. Aemma’s life was a precious thing that was not worth being traded for a boy that only existed in theory; she knew it, Rhaenyra knew it, shit even Daemon seemed to understand to a certain point that making the decision to murder a wife on the off chance it will save a son is a cruel decision for a husband to make, and that the decision should rest in the hands of the mother carrying the child (rip Rhea Royce tho, but that’s a different convo). But Viserys is so stuck in his dreams, so convinced that only a son will unite the realm that he sacrifices Aemma and the gods give him jack shit in return because Aemma’s life was worth more than what her womb was capable of conceiving, and Viserys only realized this after he had her ripped open.

And interestingly enough, because he still refuses to act decisively enough, still stuck with his head in his Dreams, he is sort of right and brings about the fall of the dragons through his continued inaction; because he doesn’t smooth things over with the sons he resents for not being Aemma’s, or pave the way properly for Rhaenyra to inherit, his death rips apart the realm. But all of that, all of it starts with poor Aemma - Aemma who decides she has had enough of her body being a graveyard and Aemma who is promptly murdered for it.

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

AGOT: Catelyn XI (Chapter 71)

Loving Catelyn and the King in the North interrupting Jon and Daenerys in these final three chapters. Almost like the series doesn’t revolve around those two characters.

It seemed a thousand years ago that Catelyn Stark had carried her infant son out of Riverrun, crossing the Tumblestone in a small boat to begin their journey north to Winterfell. And it was across the Tumblestone that they came home now, though the boy wore plate and mail in place of swaddling clothes.    

Robb is born in Riverrun, and made King in Riverrun.

I don’t know guys, are we sure he’s Northern enough?

+.+

Theon Greyjoy vaulted over the side of the boat and lifted Catelyn by the waist, setting her on a dry step above him as water lapped around his boots.    

Only highlighting this because you all enjoy it so much. 😋

+.+

"Your grief is mine, Cat," he said when they broke apart. "When we heard about Lord Eddard … the Lannisters will pay, I swear it, you will have your vengeance."

"Will that bring Ned back to me?" she said sharply. The wound was still too fresh for softer words. She could not think about Ned now. She would not. It would not do. She had to be strong.

Catelyn. ☹️ Go to bed and cry, it’s okay.

+.+

"He forbade it. He did not want his enemies to know that he was dying. With the realm so troubled, he feared that if the Lannisters suspected how frail he was …"

"… they might attack?" Catelyn finished, hard. It was your doing, yours, a voice whispered inside her. If you had not taken it upon yourself to seize the dwarf …

Catelyn, trust me, he was fully intent on dying.

+.+

Hoster Tully had always been a big man; tall and broad in his youth, portly as he grew older.

Tall! He’s tall. The Tullys are tall. Starks are smol beans, and the Tullys are tall. Bring me my regal giraffe, George.

🦒❤️🐺

+.+

"Little cat," he murmured in a voice thin and wispy and wracked by pain. "My little cat." A tremulous smile touched his face as his hand groped for hers. "I watched for you …"    

She was no stranger to waiting, after all. Her men had always made her wait. "Watch for me, little cat," her father would always tell her, when he rode off to court or fair or battle. (…) "Did you watch for me?" he'd ask when he bent to hug her. "Did you, little cat?" - Catelyn X, AGOT    

+.+

Now he seemed shrunken, the muscle and meat melted off his bones. Even his face sagged.

(...)

A spasm of pain took him, and his fingers clutched hers hard. "The crabs are in my belly … pinching, always pinching. Day and night. They have fierce claws, the crabs. Maester Vyman makes me dreamwine, milk of the poppy … I sleep a lot …

Tall, and seemingly full of cancer.

A flaw in the Tully genes… no, I refuse to believe it.

+.+

"Oh." His face fell, and some light went out of his eyes. "I'd hoped … I would have liked to see her, before …"

"She's with her son, in the Eyrie."                 

Lord Hoster gave a weary nod. "Lord Robert now, poor Arryn's gone … I remember … why did she not come with you?"

I was convinced this conversation was leading to the topic of fostering him, but it never came, which makes me suspicious.

Nearing the completion of A Game of Thrones, my leading candidates to foster Robert Arryn are the following:

Riverrun with uncle Edmure

Harrenhal with cousins Bran and Rickon

I look forward to unraveling more of this mystery with you all.

+.+

Her father glanced out over the rivers. "Blackfish," he said. "Has he wed yet? Taken some … girl to wife?"                 

Even on his deathbed, Catelyn thought sadly. "He has not wed. You know that, Father. Nor will he ever."

I told him … commanded him. Marry! I was his lord. He knows. My right, to make his match. A good match.

Gay, right? I forget if it’s ever made clear in the books.

Also, what the hell is with the Tully men and marriage?

Blackfish refusing to marry

Edmure approaching 30, still unmarried, being a little pissy pants over his betrothal to a Frey

Hoster arranging the most horrific marriage match for his daughter imaginable

Robb breaking his oath

I don’t know, maybe they should take lessons on duty from Sansa.

Men...

+.+

These are the ones who keep the old gods, she realized. She asked herself what gods she kept these days, and could not find an answer.                 

It would not do to disturb them at their prayers. The gods must have their due … even cruel gods who would take Ned from her, and her lord father as well.

Catelyn questioning the cruel gods, unsure of which gods she keeps. The Daenerys parallels keep coming.

What had she ever done to make the gods so cruel? - Daenerys VIII, AGOT

+.+

"He tried to put his tongue in my mouth," Catelyn had confessed to her sister afterward, when they were alone. "He did with me too," Lysa had whispered, shy and breathless. "I liked it."    

Ughhh, he’s still trying it.

Die.

+.+

Lord Rickard Karstark, gaunt and hollow-eyed in his grief, took his seat like a man in a nightmare, his long beard uncombed and unwashed. He had left two sons dead in the Whispering Wood, and there was no word of the third, his eldest, who had led the Karstark spears against Tywin Lannister on the Green Fork.    

Even with minor characters, George is extremely thorough when it comes to laying the foundation for future conflicts.

Knowing this, we should all probably take a very long hard look at Val the wildling and Lyn Corbray.

+.+

The arguing raged on late into the night. Each lord had a right to speak, and speak they did … and shout, and curse, and reason, and cajole, and jest, and bargain, and slam tankards on the table, and threaten, and walk out, and return sullen or smiling. Catelyn sat and listened to it all.    

A council where everyone is allowed to speak passionately, including women like Maege Mormont and Catelyn Stark.

Tyrion and show!Jon Snow would be miserable.

+.+

Many of the lords bannermen wanted to march on Harrenhal at once, to meet Lord Tywin and end Lannister power for all time. Young, hot-tempered Marq Piper urged a strike west at Casterly Rock instead. Still others counseled patience. Riverrun sat athwart the Lannister supply lines, Jason Mallister pointed out; let them bide their time, denying Lord Tywin fresh levies and provisions while they strengthened their defenses and rested their weary troops. Lord Blackwood would have none of it. They should finish the work they began in the Whispering Wood. March to Harrenhal and bring Roose Bolton's army down as well. What Blackwood urged, Bracken opposed, as ever; Lord Jonos Bracken rose to insist they ought pledge their fealty to King Renly, and move south to join their might to his.

Let’s all climb into George’s head and try to figure out what option he thinks is best.

I’m guessing Jason Mallister is closest to the right answer.

+.+

"Renly is not the king," Robb said. It was the first time her son had spoken. Like his father, he knew how to listen.                 

"You cannot mean to hold to Joffrey, my lord," Galbart Glover said. "He put your father to death."

"That makes him evil," Robb replied. "I do not know that it makes Renly king. Joffrey is still Robert's eldest trueborn son, so the throne is rightfully his by all the laws of the realm. Were he to die, and I mean to see that he does, he has a younger brother. Tommen is next in line after Joffrey."    

Oh my god, I forgot Ned failed to tell anyone anything. Killed chapters ago, and he’s still driving me batshit crazy.

Tommen is controlled by Cersei and Tywin, so I’m a bit confused by Robb’s thoughts here. Admittedly, this is a bit of a dilemma.

+.+

"Tommen is no less a Lannister," Ser Marq Piper snapped.                 

"As you say," said Robb, troubled. "Yet if neither one is king, still, how could it be Lord Renly? He's Robert's younger brother. Bran can't be Lord of Winterfell before me, and Renly can't be king before Lord Stannis."

You’re supposed to laugh, because he’ll later be responsible for orchestrating a succession crisis in the North.

+.+

"My lord father would urge caution," aged Ser Stevron said, with the weaselly smile of a Frey. "Wait, let these two kings play their game of thrones. When they are done fighting, we can bend our knees to the victor, or oppose him, as we choose. With Renly arming, likely Lord Tywin would welcome a truce … and the safe return of his son. Noble lords, allow me to go to him at Harrenhal and arrange good terms and ransoms …"

Jesus, how does the Frey have the best idea so far?

+.+

"Why not a peace?" Catelyn asked.    

(...)

"Lord Eddard was your liege, but I shared his bed and bore his children. Do you think I love him any less than you?" Her voice almost broke with her grief, but Catelyn took a long breath and steadied herself. "Robb, if that sword could bring him back, I should never let you sheathe it until Ned stood at my side once more … but he is gone, and a hundred Whispering Woods will not change that. Ned is gone, and Daryn Hornwood, and Lord Karstark's valiant sons, and many other good men besides, and none of them will return to us. Must we have more deaths still?"

x

We went to war when Lannister armies were ravaging the riverlands, and Ned was a prisoner, falsely accused of treason. We fought to defend ourselves, and to win my lord's freedom.                      

"Well, the one is done, and the other forever beyond our reach. I will mourn for Ned until the end of my days, but I must think of the living. I want my daughters back, and the queen holds them still. If I must trade our four Lannisters for their two Starks, I will call that a bargain and thank the gods. I want you safe, Robb, ruling at Winterfell from your father's seat. I want you to live your life, to kiss a girl and wed a woman and father a son. I want to write an end to this. I want to go home, my lords, and weep for my husband."

There it is. That’s probably what George would choose. You tried, Catelyn, you tried.

Granted, this doesn’t solve that whole Joffrey problem. It’s never easy.

+.+

"You are a woman, my lady," the Greatjon rumbled in his deep voice. "Women do not understand these things."

"You are the gentle sex," said Lord Karstark, with the lines of grief fresh on his face. "A man has a need for vengeance."

You’re supposed to laugh, because Lady Stoneheart.

+.+

"Whatever you may decide for yourselves, I shall never call a Lannister my king," declared Marq Piper.                 

"Nor I!" yelled the little Darry boy. "I never will!"

You Targaryen-loving Darrys! I’m still watching you.

+.+

Again the shouting began. Catelyn sat despairing. She had come so close, she thought. They had almost listened, almost … but the moment was gone. There would be no peace, no chance to heal, no safety. She looked at her son, watched him as he listened to the lords debate, frowning, troubled, yet wedded to his war. He had pledged himself to marry a daughter of Walder Frey, but she saw his true bride plain before her now: the sword he had laid on the table.    

This is probably the moment every first time reader should realize Robb is doomed.

+.+

Catelyn was thinking of her girls, wondering if she would ever see them again, when the Greatjon lurched to his feet.    

One of them. ☹️

+.+

"The King in the North!"         

"The King in the North!"                 

"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"

No, Queen.

Final thoughts:

I’ve apparently confused the books with the show. I’m a bit shocked we don’t get any real insight into Robb’s reaction to his father’s death, or being made King in the North.

-> return to menu <-

[jackoshadows]

Why did Jon Snow refuse the offer of Winterfell from Stannis?

Read Jon XII, A Storm of Swords. An entire chapter dedicated to Jon’s though process on why he refuses Stannis’ offer.  To make it easier I will highlight the relevant parts:

He sat on the bench and buried his head in his hands. Why am I so angry? he asked himself, but it was a stupid question. Lord of Winterfell. I could be the Lord of Winterfell. My father’s heir.

It was not Lord Eddard’s face he saw floating before him, though; it was Lady Catelyn’s. With her deep blue eyes and hard cold mouth, she looked a bit like Stannis. Iron, he thought, but brittle. She was looking at him the way she used to look at him at Winterfell, whenever he had bested Robb at swords or sums or most anything. Who are you? that look had always seemed to say. This is not your place. Why are you here?

The warmth took some of the ache from his muscles and made him think of Winterfell’s muddy pools, steaming and bubbling in the godswood. Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it. Surely his father would have wanted that, and Robb as well. They would never have wanted the castle left in ruins.

You can’t be the Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard-born, he heard Robb say again. And the stone kings were growling at him with granite tongues. You do not belong here. This is not your place. When Jon closed his eyes he saw the heart tree, with its pale limbs, red leaves, and solemn face. The weirwood was the heart of Winterfell, Lord Eddard always said . . . but to save the castle Jon would have to tear that heart up by its ancient roots, and feed it to the red woman’s hungry fire god. I have no right, he thought. Winterfell belongs to the old gods.

Thorne and Marsh will sway him, Yarwyck will support Lord Janos, and Lord Janos will be chosen Lord Commander. And what does that leave me, if not Winterfell?

Ygritte wanted me to be a wildling. Stannis wants me to be the Lord of Winterfell. But what do I want? Would I sooner be hanged for a turncloak by Lord Janos, or forswear my vows, marry Val, and become the Lord of Winterfell? It seemed an easy choice when he thought of it in those terms . . . though if Ygritte had still been alive, it might have been even easier. Val was a stranger to him.

I would need to steal her (Val) if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister’s son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly’s boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We’d find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance’s son and Craster’s would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me.

And finally:

“Gods, wolf, where have you been?” Jon said when Ghost stopped worrying at his forearm. “I thought you’d died on me, like Robb and Ygritte and all the rest. I’ve had no sense of you, not since I climbed the Wall, not even in dreams.” The direwolf had no answer, but he licked Jon’s face with a tongue like a wet rasp, and his eyes caught the last light and shone like two great red suns. Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre’s. He had a weirwood’s eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups they’d found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow.

He had his answer then

Jon thinks he could become Lord of Winterfell and make Ned proud. He thinks Ned and Robb would want him to restore Winterfell. He thinks of Ygritte and Val - how he could make a life with Val. He thinks of his precarious situation at the wall - with Thorne and Slynt wanting to get rid of him. He thinks of Sam and Gilly and Mance’s son.

This is important:

When Jon closed his eyes he saw the heart tree, with its pale limbs, red leaves, and solemn face. The weirwood was the heart of Winterfell, Lord Eddard always said . . . but to save the castle Jon would have to tear that heart up by its ancient roots, and feed it to the red woman’s hungry fire god. I have no right, he thought. Winterfell belongs to the old gods.

Stannis precondition for  making Jon Lord of Winterfell is that he has to burn down the Winterfell Godswood and convert to the Lord of Light. Burn down the Old Gods. And Ghost returning at the end of the chapter is what reminds Jon of the oaths he made before the Godswood, his duty to the NW and the Old Gods of the North.

The direwolf had no answer, but he licked Jon’s face with a tongue like a wet rasp, and his eyes caught the last light and shone like two great red suns. Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre’s. He had a weirwood’s eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups they’d found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow.

He had his answer then

To reiterate, Jon does not refuse the offer of Winterfell from Stannis for Ned, Catelyn, Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran or Rickon. He does not refuse Winterfell for love of his family.

He does it because of sworn oaths to the Old Gods.

There is only one time over the entire 5 books that Jon makes a very important decision because of love for family - specifically one member of his family. And that’s when he breaks his sworn oaths at the tail end of ADwD to go save Arya from Ramsay Bolton. And yes, he is pretty much walking a thin line throughout the book by helping Stannis and sending Mance out to get Arya - but the end is where he decides to go attack Ramsay as Lord Commander.

So yeah, Jon’s arc is about overcoming societal biases and doing right and leading as just a bastard. It’s about not giving into his selfish impulses and envy unlike his character foil Theon Greyjoy.  

But Jon is also a character who wants to wield power. He wants more because all his life he’s been told he cannot have it by virtue of his birth.

You can’t be the Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard-born, he heard Robb say again.

Imagine how he is going to feel when Robb then makes him KITN?!

Would Jon refuse being Lord of Winterfell when the same offer is made to him by his beloved brother Robb? Who does not demand that he burns down the Godswood? Who has legitimized him as a Stark? A Jon who has been assassinated by mutineer NW brothers and who has always wanted Winterfell? Who wants an united North to face the threat of the Others? 

It’s okay for Jon to want to rule Winterfell. He does not have to accept the circumstances of his birth - because those circumstances are unfair and unjust.

And yeah, Jon’s not going to be endgame king. There’s a good chance he ends up in the Lands of Always Winter at the end of the series. At the same time, this does not mean that his narrative arc and journey does not include climbing that ladder as high as possible, to the very top. There’s a reason GRRM spend 13 chapters on Lord Commander Jon Snow being a savvy politician, strategist and leader in ADwD.

Jon Snow is going to be ruler of the north sometime during the next two books and Robb’s will is there for a reason.

GRRM SSM, August 2000

Q: I have a question, since Robb actually  legitimized Jon and named him his heir for Winterfell and the North  before the Red Wedding (granted no one knows about this and is still  alive or free, the Greatjon knows as does Edmure, but I dont see them  getting out of the Twins any time soon and Catelyn would probably die  before telling anyone) does this make Jon’s rejection of Stannis’ offer  moot?

A: Edmure and the Greatjon are prisoners, true… but you are forgetting  the envoys that Robb sent to Howland Reed… Galbart Glover, Maege  Mormont, Jason Mallister… they are all alive and free... As to what is and is not moot… the key point is, only a =king= can legitimize a bastard……

[mkstrigidae]

This might be a lot since there’s so many characters in APWH, but could you share something secret about each character that no one else knows or maybe just a fun fact?

I am so sorry I’m answering this so late- I try not to be a human disaster, but inevitably end up being one most days.

Oooooooh this one is very interesting- they might not all be secrets, because for some characters, that would be giving away major plot points, but fun facts I can do! Let’s see what I’ve got (below the cut):

Robb: Has definitely licked a bone on a dare before, is actually a decent artist (much like Sansa) and does a fair amount of sketching in the field, and has an engagement ring for Tal in his work locker that no one knows about yet :) Inherited Catelyn’s ability for leadership, and is really good at dealing with Logistics, management, and the bureaucracy involved in his job. Hangs out with the experimental archeology students a lot (he’s like the accidental older brother for half the department) and would definitely wear handmade linen armor from someone’s project and let an undergrad shoot arrows at him to test it. (For those of you unaware, linen armor is next to impossible to cut without an extremely specific and sharp type of electric saw). Is good friends with Sarella, who’s going through grad school in Oldtown as well. Has been reluctantly dragged into the feud between the archaeology/anthropology and paleontology departments.

Aegon: is a fairly talented piano player, has always liked to cook, but got really good at it when he was dating an adjunct professor in grad school (none of his family knows about the relationship, but Theon does). Has been taking night classes recently to try and learn the Old Tongue bc he and Lyanna are particularly close. Dates casually, and volunteers at a community center for at-risk kids in Kings Landing on weekends. Is the only Targ sibling emotionally aware enough to spend time with Viserys, and is his grandmother Rhaella’s favorite.  

Rhae: Actually really likes listening to heavy metal, especially when she’s working, and is really into the Westerosi equivalent of late night comedy. Will get really invested in hobbies for like, a few months and then move on to something completely different. Is her grandfather Aerys’ favorite, and has him wrapped around her finger. Makes a game of antagonizing Viserys at Targ family functions, and has been inseparable from Margaery since they met in college. Thought her cousin Obara was the coolest person in the world when she was a kid. Most likely of all the characters to do a triathlon without breaking a nail.

Bran: Might be one sociology class away from identifying as an anarchist. Kind of wants to be a professor and will probably write novels someday. Is really into flea markets and will go antiquing with Ned and Elia and sometimes Cat. Loves kayaking and decorates his wheelchair elaborately for holidays. He’s won several costume contests at school for it. Very snarky. If Sansa had been raised by the starks, they would have had a standing Saturday lunch date to snark and gossip about the rest of the fam.

Jon: wanted to be a forest ranger for the longest time and then a writer, but felt like he had to choose a more reputable career, and is kind of jealous that Robb decided to say ‘fuck it’ and become an archaeologist. Really wants to travel, although he picked law after His Valyrian is passable (the targ sibs spoke it anytime they were with Rhaegar and fam), but he speaks Rhoynish fluently and is close to his cousins on the Martell side of the family. Really likes hiking and will often go with Cat, who is also fairly outdoorsy. Likes epic high fantasy novels and would really love LOTR.

Mya: is weirdly into dream interpretation, is bisexual, and has fallen into one of the canals in Braavos before on a school field trip. She was born in the Vale, and her mom moved to Braavos when she was five. Would definitely eat a bug on a dare. More tomboy than anything, but really enjoys getting dressed up and being feminine. Likes painting her nails fun colors. Who gives a shit about gender expectations? Not Mya.

Sansa: the first person she kisses in APWH isn’t going to be Jon…;) If she’d been raised by the Starks, she might have gone to school for journalism or become a novelist. Hates math, but is a passable accountant because of what Baelish taught her to help him with the books for his restaurants. Doesn’t like to ever wear her hair down, and has a collection of decorative bobby pins for updos that she’s acquired from flea markets in Braavos. Really loves to swim. Pushed the boy who knocked Mya into the canal in after her, but none of the teachers believe him when he accuses her, because it’s sweet, kind, well-behaved Sansa.

Robin: Secretly likes to listen to musicals and is a fairly good singer. In a group chat with Doree and Loree who are drastically improving his social skills and the three of them are parent-trap level plotting. Really dislikes doctors and hospitals. Used to ask Sansa to draw birds for him a lot when he was younger and still has most of them.

Rickon: is actually better with computers and smarter than anyone realizes, because he’s such a jock on the surface. Very used to going with the flow and adapting to change. His favorite classes are chemistry and bio, but he doesn’t really like writing. Is really popular and well-liked among his classmates, but can have a temper when he thinks an injustice is occurring. Is generally just good with animals.

Catelyn: Grew up going hunting with her uncle and always had a stronger stomach for it than Lysa and Edmure did. Is half-estranged from her father because of a disagreement they had regarding Catelyn’s inability to move on after the kidnapping, and a tense relationship with her brother after he married Roslyn Frey (The Freys were vocal supporters of Roose Bolton’s politics and had a hand in publicizing the rumors about the Starks being responsible for Sansa’s disappearance- Walder Frey owns several prominent southern newspapers), but they’re working on mending fences. Takes fairly long walks outside regularly, and would be a bruce springsteen fan. The most intimidating of the entire family.

Arya: Went through a true crime phase. Really enjoys learning languages, her favorite classes this past semester were her Ancient Ghiscari course and her global politics seminar, because they got to debate current issues every week. Like Sansa, she really likes people-watching. Will probably end up at the Olympics for fencing at some point, but was also a sprinter in high school on the track team.

Ned: Probably dropped acid at least once in college. Really enjoys skiing. Learned how to play the guitar as a part of his midlife crisis. Met Cat after she went on two dates with his brother Brandon and they decided they were better as friends. Brandon brought her to a party, and Ned ended up giving her a ride home after his brother found another girl to chat up. They quickly found out that they had a lot in common, and she got along famously with his mother, who Ned was extremely close to. Has a serious sweet tooth

Elia: Likes to paint, but doesn’t think she’s very good at it. Grew up speaking Rhoynish with her family, and taught it to the kids. Has forgotten more about art than most people will ever know, and is extremely efficient when set loose in a flea market. Really likes theater and ballet, and took ballet classes through college.

Lyanna: is working on a book about money in Westerosi politics that’s tied into her current investigation of the Boltons, but only Elia knows about it. Grew up far north, and her first language was the Old tongue rather than Andali, but didn’t want her kids picking it up, because the accent is stigmatized. Keeps notes for her articles in the Old Tongue to keep her nosy kids from reading them.

Theon: Is doing a psychiatry residency in King’s Landing currently. Does a fair amount of biking, and 100% does a polar bear swim in the ocean every winter (Aegon always shows up to cheer him on and they go out for drinks afterwards- his girlfriend, Jeyne, thinks this is insane). Refuses to eat blue foods and was actually a decent French horn player in high school.

Thank you- this was a fun one!! :)

[asoiafanimals]

AGOT X - The Royal Family

(aka. Gee Robert, are you sure those kids are legitimate?)

Robert Baratheon: Red Deer

Robert Baratheon is the King of the Seven Kingdoms, who came into power after rebelling against the Targaryens in response to the Crown Prince kidnapping his betrothed. Before the events of the first book, his Hand of the King and former foster-father Jon Arryn dies, so he travels with half of his court to Winterfell to appoint his childhood best friend Ned Stark. He has grown fat and lazy in the years of his Kingship, and is uninterested in the actual business of ruling. He allows the pet wolf of Ned’s daughter to be killed and refuses to listen when told he cannot fight in the tourney melee. After an argument with Ned over his decision to assassinate the pregnant girl Daenerys, he goes off into the woods to hunt, where he becomes too drunk and is fatally wounded by a large wild boar. On his deathbed he tells Ned to reverse his decision to send assassins after Daenerys, and names Ned as regent until his eldest son comes of age.

-

Baratheons = Stags is fairly obvious, and Red Deer seemed like the most intimidating option other than things like elk and moose. They aren’t exactly very muscular as the Baratheons are especially in the legs, but that’s a small enough thing to change up through a fantasy lens. Most pictures of Red Stags I could find seemed more Rebellion-era Robert than GOT Robert, and the one I’m using is the one that best fit. I like to picture a big fat thing with a huge ruff of fur around its neck, and antlers almost too heavy for it to carry (don’t ask me how his antlered helm would work, maybe the helmet is specifically forged to fit around the antlers?)

Cersei Lannister: African Lioness

Cersei Lannister is the wife of Robert, mother of his heirs, and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. In Winterfell when Robert goes out hunting, she and her twin brother Jaime have sex in an abandoned tower but are discovered by Bran Stark. Cersei instructs her brother to do something and he pushes the boy out of a window. Later on the Kingsroad, she takes the side of her son Joffrey and orders the execution of Arya’s direwolf, when the wolf cannot be found she instead orders the execution of Sansa’s direwolf, who was innocent. When Eddard discovers the truth that her children are illegitimate and products of insect, he meets her in the Godswood and gives her a chance to flee because he intends to tell Rober the truth when he returns from his hunting trip. She attempts to seduce him, but fails. Prior to Robert’s hunting trip, she had given her cousin Lancel Lannister instructions to give Robert too much strongwine, so he would become drunk and be killed during his hunt. On the morning of his death, she denies Robert’s will of having Ned be named regent, imprisons him and murders his household. She arranges for a public confession and for Ned to be sent to the Wall, but her son Joffrey ignores her advice and executes him instead. 

-

Cersei is roughly the height of Ned, just a bit shorter than Jaime and a lot shorter than Robert. She’s very slender and even her upright walk is very catlike. 

Joffrey Baratheon: African Lion

Joffrey Baratheon is the heir to the Iron Throne and the legal son of Robert and Cersei, betrothed to Sansa Stark. On the Kingsroad, he and Sansa come across her sister Arya sparring with a butcher’s boy, Joffrey commands Mycah to spar with him and draws blood, causing Arya to jump to his defence. When Joffrey turns his rage on her, he is bitten by her wolf Nymeria, and he lashes out at Sansa when she attempts to help him. He lies and claims that all three of them attacked him, and Sansa’s direwolf Lady is executed as a result. When his father dies and he is named King, Sansa begs Joffrey for mercy for her father,  but he goes against both her and his mother’s wishes and orders him beheaded for spreading the fact that he is born of incest. Joffrey names his grandfather Tywin as Hand and dismisses the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Barristan Selmy in favour of his ‘uncle’ Jaime Lannister. He forces Sansa to look upon her father’s head when he has it placed on a spike.

-

Joffrey is old enough that his proportions are more like those of an adult lion than a cub, but his mane hasn’t come in fully yet and comes in short tufts and spikes around his neck and head. The cub in the photo is the right proportion, but his mane is a little fuller than that. 

Myrcella Baratheon: African Lioness

Myrcella is the middle child of Robert and Cersei, and their only girl. During the feast at Winterfell she dances with Robb Stark, and on the journey to King’s Landing she rides in the Royal Wheelhouse with her mother, where Sansa occasionally joins them. She and her brother Tommen mistake Arya for a boy when she chases cats in the Red Keep. Eddard Starks discovers that she and her brothers are products of incest, being the children of Cersei and her brother Jaime. The King’s brother Renly instructs Ned to seize her and her siblings, but he refuses. She is present when Ned is arrested in the throne room.

-

Myrcella is older than Tommen, and thus a little bit bigger. I imagine her as quite plump, with big cheeks and big eyes, and a lighter fur shade than her brothers. She only has a few spots around the bottom of her legs.

Tommen Baratheon: African Lion

Tommen is the youngest child of Cersei and Robert, and the heir to the throne after Joffrey. At Winterfell, he is beaten by Bran Stark in training with wooden swords. He and his sister mistake Arya for a boy when she chases cats in the Red Keep.  Eddard Starks discovers that he and his siblings are products of incest, being the children of Cersei and her brother Jaime. The King’s brother Renly instructs Ned to seize the Royal children, but he refuses. Tommen is present when Ned is arrested in the throne room.

-

Tommen is definitely the smallest of the children in the books, probably only a little bit bigger than Rickon. He’s definitely a little pudgy boy, with short little legs and a big round body. He still has all of his cub-spots. 

Genetics

So this definitely requires a follow-up explanation on how the genetics of this alternate-universe works along with my Catelyn post. When two different species reproduce (don’t think about the sex stuff too hard), the offspring will usually all be of the one species, only with a 1/50% chance for an outlier. The general perception in Westeros is that the more ‘noble’ the house, the more dominant the gene, but this is really just explained by the large proliferation of larger noble houses anyways. It is seen as a slight affront to the father’s masculinity if his offspring are not all his species, but only in the same way that having only female children would be, or marrying a non-virgin woman, or being impotent, etc. 

So Robert and Cersei’s children being lions doesn’t really raise as many eyebrows as much as them being golden-haired does in canon. For this is to be believable every other Lannister/House pairing in the series results in lions (Cleos Frey, son of Genna Lannister, is a lion), and all of Robert’s bastards are red deer. 

[bellonablake]

Jonsa Fanfiction Recommendations

Because season 8 is starting and I am filled with angst, have this list of fanfics I’ve enjoyed recently!

(I have no shame. Most of these are rated E.)

canonverse au

And the Geese Are Headed North Again by yekoc [E]

In the dark and honest part of her that Sansa is no longer afraid of, she had thought that Jon would die, and she was no sadder than she was relieved. In the months that she ruled Winterfell while the great war of men and wights waged around them, she felt herself growing into her power, sinking her roots back deep into the Northern soil. She enjoyed it, ruling. She was good at it. And at night, she had a wide bed and a door that locked and she was never cold. If Jon died in the war, she would miss him like she missed Robb and Rickon and Bran. She wouldn’t miss her husband.

Seeing him now, she notes the absence of the relief and joy that marked her first glimpse of him at Castle Black. Instead, she feels a too-familiar grief: my brother is gone.

you were born with a word on your tongue by Dialux [T]

Sansa leaves Winterfell to marry Prince Jon Targaryen, but the road south is treacherous beyond imagining; when Sansa is betrayed, she is all alone. Terrified, she assumes the personality of Alayne- a bastard from the Vale, who herds geese for the King.

[Goose Girl AU, where families have magic and Sansa is a princess in the North, but things get worse before getting better.]

time's been kind to you, my love by Dialux [E]

Sansa knows her loyalties lie with the Northern independence. Robb might have forgotten her, but she hasn’t forgotten him. Married to Tyrion, beaten by Joffrey- she’s never allowed herself to forget. Sansa has Stark engraved deep into her blood and bone. She’s been a quiet girl for long enough: wolves are protective of their own, after all, and it’s time she lived up to that.

[Aged up Jon and Sansa, set in an universe where, on Jon’s fourteenth birthday, Ned tells him his true parentage and Jon goes to Essos instead of the Wall; upon hearing of Sansa’s predicament in King’s Landing, he returns with an army.]

the demons around you by dropofrum (95echelon) [E]

When Jon came back for her, he came with dragons. Dragons, and an army, and the promise of a crown, but all Sansa had ever wanted was him.

(Or, the one in which Jon Snow knows his heritage, and the day Lord Stark betroths Sansa to Joffrey fucking Baratheon, he packs his things and travels to the other end of the world. The other end of the world turns out to be Astapor.

Astapor, and Daenerys Stormborn.)

Found In Forbidden Nights by alienor_woods [E]

In which Robb Stark still refuses to trade Jaime Lannister for his sisters, but Jon Snow decides if being an oathbreaker means he can tell strategy and politics to fuck off, then it's worth it to take matters into his own hands.

(It’s the after, though, that Jon and Sansa hadn’t bargained on.)

What a Disappointment by just_a_dram [E]

Sansa Stark and Jon Targaryen are married and neither of them is pleased about it. Set in a world where Rhaegar lives and Jon was raised in King's Landing as a legitimized bastard.

ain’t no grave can hold my body down / i’ll crawl home to her by kattyshack [E]

written for jonsa kink week on tumblr: day 1: dark jon + virginity kink:

Once the resurrected Jon Snow has retaken Winterfell with his cousin Sansa Stark at his side, he’s determined that the North will keep its queen — but Jon will take the woman for himself.

Snow Kisses by caesia [E]

The sky sends icy kisses falling against her cheeks, but Jon’s kiss still burns on her lips.

modern au

As Long As We're Going Down by alienor_woods [T]

Four years after Stannis Baratheon wins the Battle of the Blackwater, Sansa Stark finds herself summoned back to King's Landing to serve as a bridesmaid at Crown Princess Shireen's wedding. When King Stannis tries to marry Sansa off to his illegitimate nephew, Edric, she thinks quick and tells him she's already married--

--to her bodyguard, Jon Snow.

no such thing by dropofrum (95echelon) [E]

It's the same old story: Girl falls in love with prettyboy vigilante, girl falls in bed with insanely hot coworker, boy seriously contemplates a schizophrenic breakdown.

(Or, Sansa is Lois Lane, Jon Snow is some weird composite of Clark Kent and Batman, and for a story that was supposed to be funny, there's more angsty fucking in this one than I ever intended.)

i got only good intentions (so give me your attention) by kattyshack [E]

inspired by ang’s (@recklessflyboi) thirst for a jonsa fic based on this song, and this chat post by @porcelainsansa on tumblr:

Sansa: I am sorry, I just sneezed and liked your post by accident. Jon: And commented “damn daddy” on all my selfies? Sansa: I have the flu.

In Case of Fire by Jade_Masquerade [E]

After Sansa quarrels with Arya on the traditional Stark family fall camping trip, Jon finds himself unexpectedly sharing his tent, sleeping bag, and more.

A Summer of Snow by Jade_Masquerade [E]

Sansa spends her last few months before going off to college getting closer to Jon.

when we kiss: mmmm, fire by kattshack [E]

Sansa might be seeing someone casually, but thanks to Arya, Robb, and Theon, it’s Jon who’s got the inside track on how to get Sansa to take him seriously.

aka: the one where jon finds out that sansa has a daddy kink, and he uses it to seduce her away from the dating scene and into his arms, heeeey-oh!

Sex and Reps by caesia [E]

Some yoga instructors disdained weightlifting, but Sansa found the isolation of muscle groups and the repetitive motions entrancing. Jon and Sansa meet at the gym.

loving you’s a bloodsport by kattyshack [E]

Jon hadn’t begun the evening with a plan to bleed all over the Starks’ pristine white sitting room. But now there’s a scarlet stain on Catelyn’s Persian rug and Jon’s nursing a bloody nose in the kitchen.

Or: Catelyn Stark isn’t pleased when Jon Snow makes a spectacle of himself at her latest cocktail party, but her daughter certainly isn’t raising any objections to the way he chooses to defend her honor.

you know the way to make me lose control by kattyshack [E]

If you’d told Sansa Stark that she would one day find herself tabletop dancing with a shirtless Jon Snow to a Mariah Carey song at one of the Tyrells’ raucous parties… -well…- It’s just a lot to take in. Suffice it to say, she’d never quite expected this—and she certainly never expected what comes after.

Or, as advertised on Tumblr: the sweaty, grinding, fakeout makeout wallsex jonsa fuck fic

[graceverse]

Lemon Cakes and Blue Roses (Part 2)

A short birthday gift fic for @redwolf1283​

Happy Birthday!

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: F/M Fandoms: Game of Thrones (TV) / A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin Relationship: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark , Robb Stark & Jon Snow, Robb Stark & Sansa Stark Characters: Robb Star, kSansa Stark, Jon Snow, Ned Stark (mentioned), Catelyn Stark (mentioned), almost the whole household of Winterfell Additional Tags: Jon/Sansa if you squint, Pre-Canon, Fluff, plot? what plot?, Robb Stark is a Gift, Robb is just mildly suspicious and yet still clueless; Post ASoFaI / Season 8 Alternate Universe in Chapter 2, Bit of Angst 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 (Post ASoFaI / Season 8): Sansa

Sansa Stark sat on the bed, wrapped in a light grey wool blanket. She smiled as her husband handed her a bouquet of winter blue roses. She felt her face flush and she mildly chided herself for acting like some love struck young girl. She was no longer that and for a while she had feared that she might have become too embittered to ever fully appreciate the warm giddy feelings of being loved and cared for. But here she was, feeling suddenly young and trembling over such a simple gesture.

“Happy Nameday, wife.” Jon said as he sat next to her dropping a quick kiss on her forehead and with the tips of his nose still touching her, he slid his face lower so he can properly kiss her on her lips and then her jaw and finally, the arch of her neck where he spent a few seconds sucking the skin and gently flickering his tongue to soothe the mark he’d made.

Sansa shivered as she pulled Jon closer, crushing his gift between them, the sweet heady scent of roses surrounding them. It was still early morning, the castle’s inhabitants have yet to wake up but Jon had already made his yearly visits to the glass house to gather blue roses for her nameday. “Thank you, husband.”

It had been three years since the Long Night and the defeat of the Night King and dragons. Three years since Jon Snow, a Targaryen prince, had refused the Iron Throne and had declared himself a Northerner forever. Daenerys had sacrificed her life to save the realm and she was to be the last Targaryen. Jon had not wanted the name, the legacy or the claim. With startling vehemence Jon had vowed in front of all that had survived the battle that he will never sail South ever again and if he ever did, it will be to melt that ghastly throne and not sit upon it.

It had taken Tyrion Lannister and the rest of the remaining Noble Lords to decide who should sit on the Iron Throne and when the decision was announced, no one had been more surprised than Gendry Baratheon, King Robert’s last remaining bastard son. King Gendry, first of his name, had decreed The North’s independence, at which point, the Vale and The Trident had declared that they will bow to no one but the King and Queen in the North.

The Iron Island also pleaded for their independence and Gendry, after persuading his council that another war will only waste what few precious resources the kingdom have left, declared that the Trident and The Vale shall belong to The North and that The Iron Island shall have its independence, provide that they stop pillaging Northern Villages. And should any Iron Born ever commit another crime against the North, there will be nothing left of their island. It will suffer the wrath of both The North and The South. Yara Greyjoy swore that The Iron Born shall keep the peace.

Dorne, Unbowed, Unbent and Unbroken, also wished for their independence, which Gendry also allowed amidst Tyrion’s many protests. Tyrion had reminded Gendry that there were taxes that will be lost and the Kingdom’s coffer would be emptied if he kept giving ever house clamoring for it's independence. Gendry wisely told Tyrion that he shall be appointed then to handle the trading between all the different Kingdoms. Who else to better manage the inflow and outflow of money but the last remaining Lannister. Davos was to be Gendry’s Hand. Tyrion seemed pleased with that and had promised that there will be fair trade and a thriving commerce throughout the land.  

All the remaining houses were too loyal to the throne and so Gendry was known as the "King Who Gave Away Kingdoms". But the people loved him nonetheless because he was also the "King Who Brought Peace and Plenty to the Land".

Needless to say, it was Arya Stark who asked Gendry to melt the Iron Throne as his wedding gift for her, which her future husband had been more than happy to oblige and together, they ruled what remained of the South.

Jon and Sansa did not marry right away. There were too many wounds that needed to be healed but when spring finally arrived, they both found themselves inside the glass garden and Jon had made a startling confession:

I used to leave winter roses on your door for your birthday.

It came out of nowhere; even Jon seemed surprise that he would divulge a secret kept for so long.

Sansa had wordlessly stood in front of Jon, blinking back tears as she remembered the bouquets of blue roses that had first appeared of her ninth birthday. It had only stopped when they all left Winterfell but she remembered waking up every morning on her name day to find glorious blue roses placed in front of her chamber door. She remembered how delighted she had been to find them and how she had wondered who had given her such a lovely gift.

When Jon finally revealed that it had been him all along, all those years ago, something inside Sansa that had hardened over the years of war and sorrow melted, like the last snow on an especially bright spring morning, and for the first time in a long while, she found herself feeling warm. Truly wonderfully warm.

They married the following month and Jon took the Stark name and once again, she received winter roses for her birthday.

“Do you remember Robb’s lemon cake?” Jon murmured softly against her shoulder.

Sansa laughed. “Yes! Yes, I do!”

Robb had asked one of their servant girls to help him bake a lemon cake for her ninth birthday (like the winter roses, it had become somewhat of a tradition, that on her name day, she receives lemon cake from her brother Robb and blue roses from a secret admired). Robb hadn’t meant to make the cake (Lords don’t bake cakes! He had jokingly grumbled to her once) but it turned out that the servant girl he had asked had thought that he had been flirting with her and he wasn’t actually serious about making a name day cake for the Lady Sansa. It would not have been so bad had the girl actually known how to make lemon cakes. She did not however and Robb had angrily stomped off, going directly to the kitchen and demanding Gage to instruct him how to bake the cake instead.

Gage who wasn’t a baker in the first place, had to concede. Robb had a way, even when he was young, of making people do his bidding.

“It was the first time Robb ever baked anything.” Sansa reminded Jon, suddenly recalling how surprised she had been when Robb had presented it to her. It wasn’t the best looking cake, certainly. It was a little wonky on the side but the lemon filling had been startlingly delicious. “And he’d been so proud! I remember him holding that cake out, grinning like he had just won an important battle.” His grey and white tunic had smudges of flour, but his bright blue eyes had danced happily as she jumped into his arms, kissing him on his cheeks.

“Aye he did.” Jon nodded, settling into the bed, bringing his legs up. He was looking up at her, his eyes darkening at the memory.

They barely talked about Robb and Rickon, the brothers that they have lost. And when their names were mentioned, it was always with a deep pang of regret and loss. It had always filled Sansa with the kind of grief that made her shiver, her bones painfully rattling inside her body. It was so wonderful to reminisce about her beloved brother without automatically thinking of the horrible way she – they – had lost him.

“He kept looking at me though, did you notice that?”

Sansa tilted her head, trying to recall that bright morning of her ninth name day. They have all gathered inside father’s solar and everyone had gasped in surprise when Robb entered the room bringing a plateful of lemon cake, announcing to everyone that he had baked it all by himself, under the strict orders of Gage. Everyone was impressed, even Arya who scoffed at anything that the women folk did in the castle. Arya had looked up at Robb in wonder, clearly forgetting her own disdain for baking.  

Sansa had been truly touched by Robb’s sweetness. They have always been the closest and she loved him dearly. He was her true knight who always catered her whims, no matter how frivolous they were. She often begged him to make her a crown of flowers and Robb always obliged, even when he had begun his sword training and archery lessons. She suspected that Robb was never teased for it because he was Lord Eddard’s son, but knowing Robb, he would not have cared either way. He had always been self-assured and did things without the fear of being scolded or made fun of. Robb never treated her fancies as stupid and annoying. As she grew up, he had been protective of her, sometimes, annoyingly so. He made sure that boys and sometimes even grown men were not staring at her lingeringly, always the first to volunteer and insist that he escort her whenever she wanted to play with Lady at the edge of the woods. Sansa loved Robb for all of that.

But yes, now that Jon had mentioned it, Robb had kept glancing at his way, as though waiting for Jon to do something. Sansa scrunched up her face. “Why was he? I did not think much of it because I had been so excited to taste Robb’s lemon cake.”

“We saw each other that morning. He was just coming back from the kitchen and I from the glass garden.” Jon’s voice had grown softer, he laced his hands over her free hand, bringing it up to his chest and Sansa could feel his heart beating like thunder inside his chest.

“He saw you with the roses.” Sansa correctly guessed.

“Aye he did and when he gave you the lemon cake, he was waiting for me to give the roses to you, but he didn’t know I already have.”

Sansa snorted playfully. “You didn’t give it to me. You left it in front of my door.”

Jon winced a little. “Do not tease me, wife. I did not know how to give it to you. And I --- I saw something in Robb’s face that morning, when he realized that the flowers were for you.”

Sansa sensed that Jon was saying something important. She looked down on him, noting the somber expression on his face. She wiggled down so she could be eye level with him. Jon was staring at the fire on the hearth and Sansa gently smoothed the frown on his forehead with her fingers. She cupped his jaws, stopping him from clenching it so hard. “Tell me.”

Jon took a deep steadying breath. “I --- I was jealous of Robb, you see. Because he was going to be the Lord of Winterfell and I was just a bastard boy.”

Sansa gently squeezed Jon’s hand. “Everyone knew. Robb knew. He was very careful to never flaunt it and he’d fight anyone who called you bastard.”

Jon nodded. “I know. It was different when we were younger. I wanted to be Lord of Winterfell, too and Robb knew I couldn’t. He didn’t mean to be cruel whenever he reminded me of that it hurt and I got mad because I didn’t want it to hurt.”

“I think, I understand.” Sansa said softly. She had pretended to be a bastard once too, so many years ago and she remembered who lonely it had been. How everyone had looked down upon her, treating her as though she was someone less of a person and it had made her cry at night. She knew how it was to long for something she might never have – Winterfell, home. But it had always been hers and she knew in her heart that as a Stark, it did rightfully belong to her; she just needed the courage to retake it. How different it must have been for Jon, who had thought of Winterfell both as a home and as a prison. To have loved it and hated it, to have wanted it must have felt like a terrible betrayal of Father and Robb. Jon would have given up everything for Winterfell, only so he could hand it back to his Stark siblings.  

“When we got older, it did get better. Somewhat. But then all of a sudden, everyone was leaving Winterfell and I," Jon paused, shrugging. "Anyway, I wasn’t just jealous of Robb being the legitimate son and heir of Winterfell.”

Sansa did not understand. She tilted her head, waiting for Jon to explain further. He gave her a half grimace, half pleading look and her eyes widened as she slowly understood.

“You adored Robb so much,” Jon paused to lick his lips, looking suddenly embarrassed, “I wanted you to look at me the way looked at him. Like I was your hero too and that I was brave and strong and when you… when you realized I wasn’t like you and Robb and Arya and Bran and Rickon, you suddenly turned cold. I thought if I gave you a gift, you’d love me as much as you loved Robb, too.”

“Jon, I…” Sansa sighed, staring down at her lap. She wanted to tell Jon that she did love her as she loved Robb, but that would be a lie. The way she loved Robb was absolute because Robb was her brother and she had not known a time when she hadn’t loved Robb. Even when they were children. Even after she had found out that Robb had disinherited her in order to protect the North for the clutches of the Lannisters. Robb was her brother who had been devoted to her and doted upon her and all her memories of Robb had connected her to their happy carefree childhood in Winterfell. The moment she had lost Robb, everything around her had turned into hopeless misery, and still, she loved him the same way as she had when she was four and Robb had taken her hand to walk her across the Godswood.

It was completely different with how she felt towards Jon. Her feelings for Jon had been marked by continued and constant change, sometimes, it was even a struggle. Her love for Jon was hard work. There were moments of both darkness and hope, rage and gentleness, arguments and compromise, fights and forgiveness and those long wonderful nights when Jon held her so protectively and so tenderly. Most of all, Jon made her feel that he loved her so because she was Sansa and that was enough for him.

Their love had not been easy, it had not come immediately. It had grown slowly and cautiously but when it had revealed itself, it had the force of a thousand winter storms that had shook her whole world: this was Jon and she loved him and he loved her. Something as simple as that had been so staggering in its significance, probably even more than finding out about Jon’s true parentage. Because there was their truth and their whole world was at war: with wights and dragons, greedy lords and cowardly knights, all ready to snap them up and tear them apart.

Even up until now, Sansa was aware of how short and fleeting everything could be and if it sometimes made her selfish, then she was willing to be selfish. But just with Jon. With everything else, even Winterfell, she would have given it up, forsaken it all just to have Jon by her side. There was nothing as precious as finding love in a world that had been in the brink of fire and destruction and Sansa will hold on to that, to Jon, until her last dying breath.  

Jon let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head, misinterpreting her silence. “I’m saying it all wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

Jon blinked up at her. “I mean, Robb, he knew. He knew even before I did.”

“He knew what?”

“That I…” Jon swallowed hard, stopping as though carefully choosing the words that he will say. “That I felt differently about you. That I love you, aye, but not as I love Arya.”

Sansa’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh!”

“Robb had sensed it, I saw it in the way he looked at me, like he felt sorry for me and I felt ashamed. That was why I just left the flowers on your door.”

“Robb never said anything.”

“Do you think, if had he lived, he would have approved?” And suddenly, Sansa saw the insecure boy that had been starved of love and affection. This was the boy that had sulked in corners, always with his defensive attitude and defiant stance. It made everyone else wary of him. This was the sad little boy that Jon had desperately tried to outgrow, deciding to become part of the Knight’s Watch, reluctantly accepting the position of Lord Commander, easily handling his kingship away to ensure the safety of his people and of his family. Jon who would never assume that he belonged, or that he was loved and wanted, but would rather work hard at being indispensable so that he would not have to be alone anymore.

Blue roses forgotten, Sansa took both of Jon’s hand, forcing him to turn his whole body towards her, so that she can lean into him. She searched his face, cupping his jaws, a familiar position, only usually it was Jon’s hand that held her chin up. “Father promised me someone strong and brave and gentle.”

Jon gave her a small smile, gray eyes darkening with passion. “Yes. You’ve told me about that. I still don’t think I am what father – uncle – meant.”

“Shhh.” Sansa placed her finger against his lips. “You are. I promise you, you are. If you have to question me one more time, I swear to the gods, I will ask Ghost to hide your beloved Longclaw.”

Jon chuckled softly. “Aye. I believe you.”

Sansa leaned forward, pressing her forehead against him. “But I promised Robb something before we left for Winterfell, too.”

Jon’s breath hitched at this revelation. They never talked about the day they left Winterfell. It had always been in passing and always with regret. But Sansa remembered Robb standing by her chamber door. His blue, eyes so much like her own, were sad and worried and she had tried to tease the sadness out of it by insisting that Robb should be happy for her, she would become Queen, his  Queen. And as Queen, she would demand that her brave older brother frequently visit her at Kings Landing. Robb had given her a reluctant smile, stepping forward to gently cup her chin.

“You don't have to demand that of me. You know I can never deny you of anything. You be careful over there. I wish I could come and protect you, but I am needed here in Winterfell.”

Sansa remembered rolling her eyes at how grave Robb had sounded. She had continued to tease him, stepping forward to lean over him, her cheeks pressed against the growing stubble on his bread. She remembered scowling as it scratched her. “Do not be jealous of Joffrey, Robb. You will always be my brave knight. I will always love you best.”

But Robb would not cease being melancholy. He had gripped both her elbow, pushing her a little so he could look into her face, letting her know that he was being serious. “Promise me Sansa, promise me that you will only love a man that will truly love you because you’re Sansa. And you're imperious but kind. Obstinate but loyal. Annoying but brave. You are a Stark. You’re my sister, you deserve only happiness. Remember that.”

Sansa had been too young, too excited to leave Winterfell and be part of the royal court to take appreciate Robb’s counsel and concern. Had she known that it would be the last time she will ever see him, she would not have left at all, she would have held on to him and kept him away from war. Instead, she had given Robb a quick peck on the cheeks, letting him hug her. He held her tightly.

“Gods, I’ll miss you, Sansa.”

“I’ll miss you too, Robb. But you’re squeezing too hard and you’re going to wrinkle my best dress!” She had playfully complained and it took Robb a whole second before he let go. Once again, he reminded her of her promise, asking her to say it back to him, just to be sure that she’d remember: “Yes, alright Robb. I shall only marry a man who will love me because I’m imperious and obstinate and all the rest of my annoying qualities.”  

“I do love all of your annoying qualities.” Jon interrupted her, looking at her with so much love, Sansa felt tears suddenly pricking her eyes.

She nodded her head, smiling happily. “I know.” She moved forward to kiss Jon on the lips and then she told Jon, with the surety of her own love for him: “And Robb knows it too.”

Jon let out a breath of relief. He tightened his hold on her, the bouquet of blue roses crushed between them as he rolled her over to kiss her all over her face. “Thank you, Sansa. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[jonsa-creatives]

Hello! I'd like to submit a prompt where Jon and Sansa have just found out about Jon's parentage, that his mother was Lyanna and that she loved him. Jon is wrecked by this and Sansa goes to comfort him. She apologizes for her mother and for how she herself treated him, that he should've been loved. That she will love him now. She holds him and he lets her and he cries out his grief. Thank you!!

Ahhh Anon, the feels with this one! I have a soft spot for sad Jon as we get a lot of that in the books and it breaks my heart honestly sometimes reading his narrative. But this… sigh, made me tear a bit… argghh Anon what you doing to me?? The feels are strong with this one, be warned I suppose LOL

Hope this is to your liking, Anon. Slight S7 spoiler alert! 

Thank you for the prompt and sorry for the huge delay (and for the lengthy fill)!

Unbeta’d so, pardon any mistakes oops

~ Mod Elle xxx

Mood inspired by : Make You Feel My Love by  Adele

Rating: G. Canon-divergent. TW: abandonment

She Loved You (As I Will)

“Jon?” 

Sansa barred the door firmly behind her and turned to see Jon seated and staring into the crackling fire, pensive and deep in thought. She hadn’t seen him since morning or yesterday evening and the past few days before that. In fact, she hadn’t seen much of him lately ever since his return from King’s Landing.

There was no answer from him except a slight nod in her general direction. There was something markedly different about him lately; something in him had changed and it made him melancholy. Well, more than the usual brooding, I suppose.

Sansa almost tiptoed towards him and the sight of a tray of untouched food and an empty cask of ale caught her eye. Slouching as he sat before her, Jon showed a gaunt figure and it tugged at her heart. Here she was scurrying about storing food reserves by the wagon loads for the North to prepare for the long winter to come and yet the King in the North refused to eat.

“Jon? You missed the meeting with the Northern lords today. I thought I’d come by and talk to you about it.”

Sansa found a chair to sit near him as she waited for a response. Jon sighed as he glanced down and turned his attention briefly to her. It was a first time that Sansa saw his dark grey eyes appear bloodshot, tired and teary. Something was wrong, she knew it. Silence hung in the air between them and Sansa didn’t feel it was proper to prod further.

“What do they want now?” came the gruff reply and suddenly, Sansa wasn’t interested to tell him about the meeting with the lords. Jon had been crying. She knew that look well. It had been the first thing she looked at every morning, in the mirror, whilst sitting in her bed chambers in the Red Keep, ever since the news came of Robb and her mother, Lady Catelyn, butchered at the Red Wedding. 

“Jon, what’s wrong? Tell me, Jon.”

Jon gave a small sad smile, turning away from her again and stared back at the fire. She was accustomed to his brooding demeanour but there was something at the tip of his tongue, Sansa could sense it. 

“Jon, what happened at King’s Landing? Did they hurt you?”

Jon gave a slight chuckle at her question and it unnerved her. Enough of this.

“What did they do to you?” Sansa demanded albeit gently as her hand grabbed his, forcing Jon to look her way. 

“No… Not at all. Nothing I could not take. I’ve had worse. King Tyrion was kind to me.”

“Then what is it? Jon I wish you would tell me what happened. Please, Jon, try for me.”

Jon’s smile died as he recalled how the scroll was handed to him, that night when he was preparing for return to Winterfell. By Sam himself, no less, who had come all the way from the Citadel just to see him. Jon could never forget how happy he was to see good ol’ Sam and Gilly with Little Sam, now grown into a sprightly boy of four.

“I met my friend, Sam. The one I told you about, a brother from the Night’s Watch. He’s becoming a Maester now and he heard about my visit to Tyrion Lannister at King’s Landing.”

“And? What did he do, Jon? What did he say?”

Jon could only smile at Sansa as he recounted the fateful meeting, struggling and fighting from bursting in tears. How he wished such scrolls and records didn’t exist, perhaps getting burnt in a great fire - how blissful it was not knowing what was ahead of him.

“Sansa, all my life I wanted to be a Stark. I loved Father very much, I loved all of you very much and all I wanted was to be a part of it. I even thought of your Mother who had been kind to me.”

“Jon, you are a Stark. You are. To me.”

“No.” Sansa pulled her hands away from him and came to rest on her lap as she glared at Jon. Wasn’t being a Stark what you have always wanted?

“I’m not a Stark.”

Sansa huffed indignantly and bit down her lip. “You are the chosen King by all the North. And they know no king but the King in the North whose name is Stark. Don’t you remember that?”

“Aye, they did but I never wanted it. Winterfell is yours and it had always been yours, Sansa. And now… I cannot be King in the North any longer.”

Sansa’s heart raced wildly as she tried to calm herself down. Don’t leave me again, Jon. Why do they always leave?

“You have a duty to your people! They chose you because they know you care! You can’t leave them now! Not when winter is here. This is your home!” Sansa could not believe she was having this conversation again with Jon. 

“Aye, this is my home. This will always be my home. The North is a part of me, you know that. I will die fighting for it. But the North can’t have a foreign born King,” Jon said quietly.

“Foreign born? You are the blood of Winterfell! You were raised here, like Robb and Rickon and Bran!”

“Sansa…. Winterfell will always be my home. But I am no Stark.”

“By whose authority? Sam the Maester?” Sansa scoffed at the ridiculous turn of their conversation. Jon kept silent and got up from his chair. There was truly no easy way to talk about it. Sansa seized his wrist, pulling him to return to his seat. Jon sighed as his eyes met with hers. It did not escape him, how Sansa had grown into such a fine beauty; with her striking fiery locks and eyes so blue that no seas in Westeros could rival. 

Jon had found a kind and compassionate confidante in her, he admired her wisdom and her gentle lady courtesies with the Lords and Ladies. She would be a better ruler than him, as he discovered that more and more each day. Lady Sansa Stark had become well-loved and respected among her people when they learned, while in his absence, how she loved and cared for every beating heart that beats for the North. 

Jon treasured the moments they shared, feeling proud and a somewhat unsettling fondness had grown in his heart for her. Whatever he felt, did not matter now, however. 

“That scroll that Sam handed to me, decreed that I am no Stark…. Well, at least my mother.. was.”

Sansa frowned as she tried to grasp what Jon was telling her. A Stark lady.. Jon’s mother?

“I don’t quite understand. What are you trying to tell me, Jon?”

Jon blinked at her and paused as he chose his words carefully.

“Sansa, I’m not a Stark because my father is not Ned Stark. I am not his son. I was born in Dorne to Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen.”

Jon waited as he watched Sansa come to terms with the newfound knowledge. He remembered feeling the same way when Sam told him what he knew.

“That makes you the heir to the Throne,” Sam spoke, quiet as a mouse as they both sat in the solar Tyrion had prepared for him at the Keep. “Jon… Do you know what this means?”

He knew very well what it meant. And yet, he did not see any glory in it. Gods be good, why would anyone want to be King?

“I don’t want it. I never wanted any of this, Sam. The Great War is over, my duty here is done. I just want to go back home to Winterfell and wait for the day I die. Peacefully this time, I hope.”

Sam pursed his lips and Jon knew there was more he had to say. “What is it?”

“Well, if you think about it, Winterfell isn’t your home anymore no? I mean, by birthright. Your rightful home would be Dragonstone. You’re a Lord of a castle now.”

“I am no Lord of anything. I am a bastard and mind you, I’ve learnt that perhaps it is better off being one now. Winterfell is my home, not Dragonstone. I can’t stay there. Not after what happened.” 

Sam nodded with a pout.

“I’m sorry she died, Jon She fought bravely with her dragons against the White Walkers. Maybe that’s the way of the gods. That she was not meant for the Throne. You are.”

“Lyanna Stark… Father’s sister… our aunt? She is your mother?”

Jon could only nod. What was there else to say? He was still grappling with this hidden truth kept from him for all his life.

“Aye. I’m not Jon Snow. I am Jaeharys Targaryen. At least that was what it said on the deed. I’m not a Stark.”

“But.. How would you know that? If that were true?”

“I trust Sam more than any other man in this world, Sansa. He would never lie to me.”

“But Aunt Lyanna died! She died far away from the North. She couldn’t be….” Sansa paused as she glanced at Jon. His features were very Stark like, there was close to none of the Targaryen qualities in him. She remembered her father once said how Arya reminded him of  Aunt Lyanna and how Arya and Jon looked so much alike. Her hands flew to her mouth as she made sense of it all.

“She died giving birth to me, Sansa… My mother, Lyanna Stark died, because of me,” Jon’s head dropped low into his hands, his lips quivered as he mentioned his mother’s name.There was no stopping the tears and sobs. He finally knew who he was, who his mother was. She truly was highborn and beautiful, as he had often dreamed she would be. He was part Stark, there was no doubt ever in him that he was one. But being part Targaryen, was something he was not quite prepared for. And there he stood, the last Targaryen. It was a dreadful lonely feeling when the realisation struck him; Maester Aemon was right - it was terrible thing for a Targaryen to be all alone in this wretched world.

“Oh Jon!” Sansa came down from her chair and pulled him into her arms as she knelt before him. There was never a time in his life where his body was wracked with sobs and tears flowed freely; than where he was at that moment, in Sansa’s embrace - it was liberating and cleansing no matter how the tears stung, his throat ached and his heart raced. 

It was as if he had gone back in time, when the memories flooded his mind of him growing up in Winterfell, envying the Stark kids with Father and their mother; how he cried his little heart out during those times he had to be shooed away like a beggar boy; how he was tasked to finish lowly chores in the stables and sleeping on the dirty hay as his little body grew tired, whenever noble guests came to visit. 

He was shame in the flesh, a taint on the Stark name and on Ned Stark’s honour. He was ashamed of his existence and hated himself; there had been many times, he wished he could run away and oh, how he prayed to the gods to grant him a short life. He had never asked to be born, let alone be born a bastard. He was always ready for death to take him, wherever it would take him, Jon was certain, it would be far better than living as a known bastard.

“I didn’t want to live, Sansa. I never asked to be born a bastard… I did not ask to be treated like scum! I was just a boy who didn’t have a mother.. And now I know who she is.. I-”

“Hush now, Jon… I am so sorry for all the times I have been mean to you.. I truly am sorry! Forgive me?”

“We were children. There’s nothing to forgive, Sansa.”

“And my mother… Oh Jon, I know how she was to you! I hope you forgive her for anything she has ever said or done to you.. Oh dear gods, if only she knew who you really were, you’d be loved just as much as any of us. Oh Jon, I am truly sorry!” Sansa felt her own cheeks wet and warm from her own tears, her heart breaking at Jon’s show of grief. There was nothing he could say, Lady Catelyn had every right to despise him for the misery he brought to her perfect family - also his family too, now by blood. 

“Sansa… I harbour no ill feelings towards her nor to anyone. I am done with that. I… I-I only wish I knew more about Lyanna. How I wish she was there to hold my hand or  hold me when I cry… And I cried so many times, wishing she would save me from a bastard’s life. Sansa, I wished I knew her,”

Sansa could only imagine the pain and heartache that overcame Jon. She knew what losing a mother felt like but she also knew a mother’s love. She was luckier than most and she had lived through a happy childhood living in Winterfell, unconditionally loved and fussed over constantly. Sansa wiped away at her tear stained cheeks and released Jon from her arms.

“Jon.” Sansa whispered as her thumb lifted Jon’s chin for his downcast eyes to meet hers. 

“She would love you. She would love you so much that she would fight for you, for you to stay alive and well. Perhaps, that’s what she made Father promise, to look after you and he did. She would love you, Jon. As much as my own mother loved me. I am sure Lyanna would love you like any mother would love a son, had she lived. And she still does. She’s still a part of you,” Sansa spoke softly as her hands cupped his face and wiped the tears that wet his cheeks. 

“But I don’t belong here now. Aye, it’s my home and I have nothing but love for it. It just feels strange coming back as King now now that I know I wasn’t born here, like you were,” Jon squeezed gently, her hands that were cradling his face. He glanced quickly at the pink lips that were just mere inches away from his. They seemed so soft and inviting and Jon sighed at how his heart grew three times its size, delighting in the comfort that was Sansa’s arms and he only wished he could stay in them for as long as she would let him.

“No, Jon. No matter what anyone says, you belong right here.”

[sansa-hand-of-the-king]

Sansa and her “Stark connection”

Since the fandom is always saying how Sansa is not a Real Stark ™    I wanted to  make a post in which I explain why Sansa, born in the Winter (unlike Arya or Bran or Rickon born in the long Summer), in Winterfell (unlike Jon or Robb born in the south) will always be a Stark ( no Lannister or Baelish or whatever...), no matter who she is forced to marry (to survive I might add..). 

 In AGOT Sansa (before her father died, and when she was meant to marry joffrey) is already very proud of her Stark origins. 

Alyn carried the Stark banner. When she saw him rein in beside Lord Beric to exchange words, it made Sansa feel ever so proud.

While prefering The Seven (like her mother) she does admire the poetry of the old gods. 

Besides, even if she could leave the castle, where would she go? It was enough that she could walk in the yard, pick flowers in Myrcella's garden, and visit the sept to pray for her father. Sometimes she prayed in the godswood as well, since the Starks kept the old gods.

By the time she reached the godswood, the noises had faded to a faint rattle of steel and a distant shouting. Sansa pulled her cloak tighter. The air was rich with the smells of earth and leaf. Lady would have liked this place, she thought. There was something wild about a godswood; even here, in the heart of the castle at the heart of the city, you could feel the old gods watching with a thousand unseen eyes.

While she is called little bird, or little dove (when people want to undermine her), she is called wolf  too.

Tyrion found himself thinking of his wife. Not Sansa; his first wife, Tysha. The whore wife, not the wolf wife.

"Your Grace has forgotten the Lady Sansa," said Pycelle.

The queen bristled. "I most certainly have not forgotten that little she-wolf." She refused to say the girl's name.

And Sansa herself when she is in put  a hard position takes courage in her Stark origins. Its something that gives her  strength:

Do as you're told, sweetling, it won't be so bad. Wolves are supposed to be brave, aren't they?

"Brave. Sansa took a deep breath. I am a Stark, yes, I can be brave.

"Winterfell?" Robert was small for eight, a stick of a boy with splotchy skin and eyes that were always runny. Under one arm he clutched the threadbare cloth doll he carried everywhere.

"Winterfell is the seat of House Stark," Sansa told her husband-to-be. "The great castle of the north."

"Do you require guarding?" Marillion said lightly. "I am composing a new song, you should know. A song so sweet and sad it will melt even your frozen heart. 'The Roadside Rose,' I mean to call it. About a baseborn girl so beautiful she bewitched every man who laid eyes upon her.

"I am a Stark of Winterfell, she longed to tell him. Instead she nodded, and let him escort her down the tower steps and along a bridge. 

 Petyr put his arm around her. "What if it is truth he wants, and justice for his murdered lady?" He smiled. "I know Lord Nestor, sweetling. Do you imagine I'd ever let him harm my daughter?

"I am not your daughter, she thought. I am Sansa Stark, Lord Eddard's daughter and Lady Catelyn's, the blood of Winterfell.

"As was bringing me here, when you swore to take me home."She wondered where this courage had come from, to speak to him so frankly. From Winterfell, she thought. I am stronger within the walls of Winterfell.

I will tell my aunt that I don't want to marry Robert. Not even the High Septon himself could declare a woman married if she refused to say the vows. She wasn't a beggar, no matter what her aunt said. She was thirteen, a woman flowered and wed, the heir to Winterfell.

.His seamed and solemn face brought back all of Sansa's memories of his time at Winterfell. She remembered him at table, speaking quietly with her mother. She heard his voice booming off the walls when he rode back from a hunt with a buck behind his saddle. She could see him in the yard, a practice sword in hand, hammering her father to the ground and turning to defeat Ser Rodrik as well. He will know me. How could he not? She considered throwing herself at his feet to beg for his protection. He never fought for Robb, why should he fight for me?

From the high battlements of the gatehouse, the whole world spread out below them. Sansa could see the Great Sept of Baelor on Visenya's hill, where her father had died. At the other end of the Street of the Sisters stood the fire-blackened ruins of the Dragonpit. To the west, the swollen red sun was half-hidden behind the Gate of the Gods. The salt sea was at her back, and to the south was the fish market and the docks and the swirling torrent of the Blackwater Rush. And to the north …She turned that way, and saw only the city, streets and alleys and hills and bottoms and more streets and more alleys and the stone of distant walls. Yet she knew that beyond them was open country, farms and fields and forests, and beyond that, north and north and north again, stood Winterfell.

but personally my favorite line about Sansa being always a Stark and belonging North in Winterfell  (Never a Lannister! , no matter who she marries) is this quote by Ned: 

When it was over, he said, "Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell."

"All that way?" Jory said, astonished.

"All that way," Ned affirmed. "The Lannister woman shall never have this skin." 

Sansa whole story (to me) is about her journey retaking her Stark origins which were stolen from her in the worst of way, just like they killed her wolf Lady. But just like Lady remains, Sansa place is and always will be in the north, as a Stark of Winterfell. 

[jackoshadows]

Why did Jon refuse Stannis’ offer in ADwD?

Much has been made about Jon Snow’s statement that ‘Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa’.  When this is basically Jon using Westeros law to stop Stannis’ constant demand that he take over as Lord of WF - he probably would have stated the name of whomever is legally next in line to shut Stannis up on the topic. He was being diplomatic here by not telling Stannis the real reason. Keep in mind that this conversation between Jon and Stannis takes place in ADwD, after Jon has already made the decision in ASoS to stay at the wall as a NW brother and not take up Stannis’ offer.

For those who are interested in reading about why Jon refused Winterfell from Stannis, there is Jon’s last chapter in A Storm of Swords. It’s a great chapter and embodies GRRM’s - ‘A human heart in conflict with itself’.

Here’s Jon’s thought process from Jon XII, ASoS:

He sat on the bench and buried his head in his hands. Why am I so angry? he asked himself, but it was a stupid question. Lord of Winterfell. I could be the Lord of Winterfell. My father’s heir.

Here he remembers his loving father Ned - he could be Ned’s heir.

But someone he dislikes intensely intrudes on that happy thought!

It was not Lord Eddard’s face he saw floating before him, though; it was Lady Catelyn’s. With her deep blue eyes and hard cold mouth, she looked a bit like Stannis. Iron, he thought, but brittle. She was looking at him the way she used to look at him at Winterfell, whenever he had bested Robb at swords or sums or most anything. Who are you? that look had always seemed to say. This is not your place. Why are you here?

It’s Catelyn making him feel unwelcome and unwanted at Winterfell that makes him hesitate.

While he is soaking in a tub he once again thinks of Winterfell:

The warmth took some of the ache from his muscles and made him think of Winterfell’s muddy pools, steaming and bubbling in the godswood. Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it. Surely his father would have wanted that, and Robb as well. They would never have wanted the castle left in ruins.

Here he thinks that Ned and Robb would have wanted him to restore Winterfell. But...

You can’t be the Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard-born, he heard Robb say again. And the stone kings were growling at him with granite tongues. You do not belong here. This is not your place. When Jon closed his eyes he saw the heart tree, with its pale limbs, red leaves, and solemn face. The weirwood was the heart of Winterfell, Lord Eddard always said . . . but to save the castle Jon would have to tear that heart up by its ancient roots, and feed it to the red woman’s hungry fire god. I have no right, he thought. Winterfell belongs to the old gods.

He is once again reminded of his bastardy. The stone kings of his dreams telling him that he does not belong. And then the Weirwoods…. and here we come to the crux of the problem.  To become Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North under Stannis, Jon would have to tear up and burn the Godswood.

While he is thinking all this, there is an election going to happen soon and Jon hears his brothers talking. Soon it could be that Janos Slynt becomes Lord commander. And Slynt hates Jon. So would it not be better for Jon to take up Stannis’ offer?

Thorne and Marsh will sway him, Yarwyck will support Lord Janos, and Lord Janos will be chosen Lord Commander. And what does that leave me, if not Winterfell?

He entertains the possibility of him actually have a life and a family...

Ygritte wanted me to be a wildling. Stannis wants me to be the Lord of Winterfell. But what do I want? Would I sooner be hanged for a turncloak by Lord Janos, or forswear my vows, marry Val, and become the Lord of Winterfell? It seemed an easy choice when he thought of it in those terms . . . though if Ygritte had still been alive, it might have been even easier. Val was a stranger to him.

And then finally we basically see all of Jon’s wishes and ambitions and what he really wants:

I would need to steal her (Val) if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister’s son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly’s boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We’d find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance’s son and Craster’s would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me.

Note that thus far, the current known living heir to Winterfell has not made a single appearance in Jon’s thoughts, while he is debating the pros and cons of accepting Stannis’ offer and becoming lord of Winterfell. Not one thought spared to Sansa. No - ‘ah well, Sansa is still alive and I could not possibly take her place’. Nothing. Jon does not seem to give her place in all this ANY consideration. Nada. Nil. Zero. His thoughts involve Ned, Robb, Catelyn, Janos, Old Gods, Ygritte, Val and even Sam and Gilly. But no Sansa. 

So Jon finally admits that he wants WF, that he wants to take up Stannis’ offer, and is seriously considering leaving the wall with Stannis’ pardon and become Lord of WF and start a family with Val. What stops him here?

Ghost finally turns up!

“Gods, wolf, where have you been?” Jon said when Ghost stopped worrying at his forearm. “I thought you’d died on me, like Robb and Ygritte and all the rest. I’ve had no sense of you, not since I climbed the Wall, not even in dreams.” The direwolf had no answer, but he licked Jon’s face with a tongue like a wet rasp, and his eyes caught the last light and shone like two great red suns. Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre’s. He had a weirwood’s eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups they’d found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow.

He had his answer then

And there we have it. Jon Snow was going to stay Jon Snow.  Jon’s love for Ghost, his uniqueness,  the weirwood eyes reminding Jon of the Godswood, the heart trees and the Old Gods - that there was no way he was going to burn them down to take up Stannis offer.

He decides to stay at the wall and goes back to the election and luckily for him (And thanks to Sam) he ends up winning the election and not losing his head to Slynt.

So no. He did not refuse Winterfell for Sansa. Sansa played no role in his decision to refuse Winterfell. That’s just legalese Jon’s throwing at Stannis to justify his decision.

But here’s the thing – Robb’s will. And Robb does not demand that Jon has to burn down the Godswood.  A most beloved brother wanting Jon to be KITN? Hell yeah! I think the more wolfish, newly resurrected Jon is going to be all about that KITN promotion – after he goes to WF with the Wildlings and kicks some Bolton ass. We know via GRRM’s season 4 GOT script notes that we are going to be seeing Direwolves (plural) Vs Ramsay’s dogs in this battle. It’s very likely we will be seeing Shaggydog/Rickon making an appearance via Manderly and Nymeria and her wolf pack are possibly making their way there and then there is Ghost. And if Jon does become KITN as the eldest living Stark, I think both Arya and Rickon will be supportive of that decision.

Whether Sansa under LF’s influence will be supportive of Jon as KITN? That remains to be seen. As per the show, it would seem not.  She was a character created for conflict among the Starks. But considering that the last 4 seasons of the show has been D&D fanfiction, I am not entirely sure how her character will react in the books.