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“By the end, it became quite complicated. But at the beginning, things were really simple.” – Paul McCartney
…
“Jon, this is too extravagant,” Lyanna Snow tells her son as she walks around the kitchen – which she thinks might be larger than the entire first floor of her current home.
“Mum, that girl climbed in through your bathroom window because she knew that you’re my mum and that you live there. How am I supposed to be away while I’m worried about you?” Jon says, still with patience despite Lyanna’s countless protests to him buying her this house.
Lyanna sighs but doesn’t comment on that as she walks to the large picture window along the back wall that overlooks the massive property that the massive house is sitting on. Jon pauses before he joins her.
“Plenty of room for you to garden,” Jon points out.
“Jon…” Lyanna begins to say and then sighs, turning towards him. “This is the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen, but… this isn’t Wintertown. This isn’t home.”
“It will be though,” Jon cuts in, still maintaining his patience. He’s been prepared for this and nothing his mum is saying right now is a surprise to him. She’s a Wintertown girl – born and raised – and Jon hadn’t been expecting her to be so eager and willing to move away from all she’s ever known.
She wouldn’t have to move from their home if he hadn’t-
Jon abruptly cuts his own thoughts off before they can continue along that path.
“The Starks’ country home is right down the road and they are spending more of their time there so you already know the neighbors,” Jon says. “And I’ve already picked the perfect spot for my piano so I can stay with you while I’m not out on tour.”
That gets a smile out of Lyanna and she turns away from the window to look at her only child. “You’re going to be staying with your mum in your down time and not at your own place or not with your girlfriend?” She asks him, looking amused at the idea.
Jon shakes his head. “I see Ygritte enough.”
Lyanna keeps smiling and Jon begins to frown, wishing that she would stop. “That’s an interesting outlook on your muse. I see her enough,” Lyanna mimics Jon’s voice. “I wonder if that’ll be the next top ten hit from you.”
“Alright, alright,” Jon rolls his eyes, fighting back a smile, and putting his hands on his mum’s shoulders, he turns her around. “Let me show you your new master bedroom,” he says, gently driving her out of the kitchen and down the hallway.
When they enter the largest bedroom in the house, Lyanna glances at it for just a moment before she turns back to her son. “Things are okay between you and Ygritte, aren’t they?” She asks.
Jon can’t help, but sigh. “Why are you so distracted by Ygritte all of a sudden?”
Lyanna hesitates for just a moment. “I know I shouldn’t, but I read that you were having problems-”
“You’re right. You shouldn’t.” Jon sighs heavily. “Tabloids? Really, mum?”
“Don’t look at me like that, Jon Snow,” Lyanna frowns. “I was at the checkout in the market and your face was right in front of me!”
Jon sighs again. “I think also this week, the rags have the band breaking up for the sixth time and Grenn is coming out of the closet as well.”
“Oh, well that’s just ridiculous. Grenn, gay?” Lyanna waves that away with her hand and Jon cracks a small smile.
His phone dings then, alerting him to a new message, and Jon reaches for it from his back pocket. He smiles a bit wider despite his best efforts; knowing that his mother will probably catch it and question him. Either that or she’ll just assume that it’s Ygritte texting him that is getting him to smile.
What’s the verdict? – Sansa writes to him.
Jon glances towards his mother, who has finally decided to explore the bedroom, going to open the closet. She gasps then, looking at the size of the walk-in closet. Ever since he’s been a young lad, Jon has heard his mum say that one of her biggest wishes in this life is to have her very own walk-in closet.
Being stubborn, but that’s to be expected. – Jon texts back.
The three “…” appear and Jon waits for her response, feeling his heart speed up a bit within his chest. His heart always speeds up when he’s talking to her – whether it’s through texts or calls or actually face-to-face. They all think – even his own mum thinks – that Ygritte is his muse; the girl behind all of the songs he writes, but they don’t know that it’s another redhead that has always had that title.
Sansa doesn’t know it. No one does. None of the other lads – especially not Robb – or Sam or Dickon in the studio. When the journalists ask him about his song-writing process, when he mentions “muse”, all assume he’s talking about Ygritte. After all, they have been dating for nearly two years and their pictures are usually splashing at least one cover of those rags his mum apparently likes to read.
Who else would Jon Snow’s muse be if not Ygritte?
But every song Jon has ever written about involving a girl, Sansa Stark is always the face in his mind he sees when he’s putting the words together. And it would just be better for everyone if no one ever finds that out. Especially Robb. Especially Ygritte. And especially Sansa.
Be sure to show her the walk-in closet! And the patio to the pool! – Sansa’s text dings.
Jon has already decided that he will also not be informing his mum that Sansa had helped him find this house. Because even though he and Sansa have been friends for years now, Jon knows his mum and Lyanna will begin to ask him questions that Jon knows he’s not prepared to answer. Or even worse than that, Lyanna will give him that smile that she sometimes gives him when she hears something and is greatly amused by it; usually at Jon’s expense.
“I have another surprise,” Jon says as he slips his phone back into his back pocket.
Lyanna steps from the walk-in closet and she’s still smiling and it makes Jon smile, too. She seems to finally be warming up to this place. He should have showed her the closet first. This woman had given up so much in her own life and had done everything she could possibly do for him. He knows that no amount of walk-in closets will make up for it all.
She had dipped into some of their savings to buy it for him. One of the cooks at the restaurant where she waitressed was selling it and she knew how much Jon wanted to learn. And when she brought the guitar home and presented it to nine-year-old Jon, his eyes widened and he held it as if it was glass.
She then dipped further into their savings so she could provide him with lessons so he could learn how to play. Two times a week, Jon met with his instructor and then all hours in between when he wasn’t doing schoolwork, Jon was practicing his chords and strumming notes and learning basic songs.
Lyanna sat on the couch and he stood in front of her, playing for her what he learned so far. She saw the tears clinging to his lashes as he kept strumming and would pluck a wrong note no matter how much he tried to correct himself in the first simple song he had been taught.
“It’s alright, Jon,” Lyanna told him, perching herself on the edge of the cushion, leaning towards him. “You’ll get it soon. Just keep going.”
Jon stopped and shook his head. “You don’t know much about guitars, do you, mum?” The boy had asked, lifting his wet eyes to look at her.
And at the sight of his tears, Lyanna felt her eyes prick with her own. “I don’t,” she shook her head. “But I know that, like with anything, you just have to stick with it and keep going.”
Jon sniffled and nodded and Lyanna smiled as he started the song over. He plucked a wrong string, but like his mum had told him, he kept going.
“Another surprise?” Lyanna asks. “Do you mean that you’ve bought me another mansion in the country?”
Jon’s lips twitch. “This is hardly a mansion,” he says. “Come on.”
He takes her hand and pulls her across the bedroom, only letting go so he can open both of the doors that lead outside. He then steps aside so Lyanna can get her first look. And when she does, she gasps as sharply as she did when she saw the walk-in closet.
“Jon,” she whispers.
Right from Lyanna’s bedroom, the doors open onto the back patio and a sparkling blue pool past that. The pool is large and comes complete with statues, a slide, and an attached hot tub. Lyanna stares at it, a hand over her mouth and tears pooling in her eyes.
“This is the real reason why I’m going to be staying here on my off time,” Jon jokes. “And it’s heated, too, so you can swim in the springs and falls, too.”
“Oh, Jon,” Lyanna says. The pool is surrounded with perfectly manicured green lawns and rose bushes as well as a fence encasing the entire large property. Jon feels the fence is the most important feature.
This is the most beautiful home, Jon knows, that his mum has ever seen and it will probably take her some getting used to, having this be all hers. But he has the money to do this for her. More than enough money and Wintertown just isn’t safe anymore. As the band gets even bigger and more famous, more fans are flocking to the small town in hopes of seeing one of the lads or their families or their family’s homes. And their fans have been known to be a bit… enthusiastic, Jon supposes is the nicest way to put it. He loves their fans, of course, but he doesn’t trust them to be able to control themselves and leave his mum and his childhood home alone.
And even if Direwolves fans weren’t rabid, Jon would still buy his mom this house in the country. She bought Jon his first guitar. He buys Lyanna her first mansion. It’s still not enough, in Jon’s opinion, but at least he’s on his way – finally – to being able to thank her.
As Lyanna walks to the pool’s edge, Jon pulls out his phone one more time and sends Sansa another text.
Success – is all he says.
Sansa’s reply comes a minute later and when Jon sees the smiling emoji, it makes him smile as well, so easily able to imagine Sansa’s smiling face.
As he goes to join his mum, Jon can hear a grouping of words beginning to form in his mind. It’s a new song. Just from Sansa’s texts and the vision of her smiling in his mind, he can begin to see the words. He’s going to have to go grab a pencil soon so he can get it down.
If you let me take your heart, I will prove to you…
Jon stands at his mum’s side, humming to himself, figuring out the melody as more words come to him.
We will never be apart, if I’m part of you…
…
Four Years Earlier.
“Robb!” Sansa yells over the guitar playing, pounding on the locked door. “Dad! Robb is hogging the bathroom again and I have to finish getting ready!”
“Robb!” Ned’s answering shout rings out from below. “Get out of the toilet!”
A second later, the door is unlocked and yanked open, Robb sticking his head out. “I’m practicing!” He shouts to the rest of the house. “You know the toilet has the best acoustics!”
“You can keep practicing! Just let me brush my teeth!”
And with that, Sansa pushes past him to do just that.
Robb pauses for a moment and then closes the door behind both of them, returning to his seat on the closed toilet lid. He strums his fingers down the guitar strings, adjusting himself to be more comfortable. He then resumes playing the song he had been practicing at before the interruption. Sansa stands quietly at the sink, brushing her teeth and listening.
“I like that,” she then comments after spitting out the paste and rinsing her mouth out.
“Yeah?” Robb smiles a little. “Jon and I started on it last night. We’ll probably finish it up this morning during second period.”
“What’s it called?” She asks as she brushes out her hair and then begins braiding it.
“Untitled for the moment.” Robb strums one more time and then stands up. “We’re thinking it needs something a bit more. Might get Theon to play his harmonica and we’ll see if that works. So please, love me do…” Robb sings the words one more time and then goes to join his sister at the sink.
He leans in close to the mirror and rubs a hand on his cheek. “I need to shave,” he then notes.
“No time. The bus will be here soon,” Sansa tells him, opening the bathroom door.
“Jeyne wanted me to shave. Yearbook pictures today and we’re getting Best Couple taken at the school fountain,” Robb says, speaking more to himself. “Oh, well,” he then sighs. “She’ll understand.”
“She always does,” Sansa remarks and Robb grins at that.
Sansa doesn’t know why her brother’s girlfriend, Jeyne Westerling, always understands. She and Robb have been together since they were in ninth grade, but that doesn’t stop Robb from being a constant flirt with any girl. He’s faithful to Jeyne and they love one another and everyone knows they’re together, but that doesn’t stop Robb with his smiles and winks. The problem with Robb – and everyone, including Robb, is aware of it – is that he is far too charming.
It’s none of her business, and Sansa loves her brother immensely, but she still wonders why Jeyne puts up with it. Sansa can’t imagine ever being with a boy who always shows such attention to girls who aren’t her.
“Robb! Sansa!” Catelyn yells up to them this time. “Jon’s here and the bus will be here soon!”
As casually as she can without Robb noticing, Sansa gives herself one more look in the mirror, making sure her braid is neat and there’s no remnants of toothpaste on her face. Every school morning, it’s the same. She will be getting ready and one of her parents will call out that Jon Snow has arrived as he does every other morning and Sansa will feel her heart beating just a little bit faster within her chest.
She tells herself, of course, that there’s no reason for such a reaction and she tries to get herself to stop. Jon Snow has been her brother’s best friend for so many years now and with the addition of Theon Greyjoy, they have all been around since she was an infant. Jon has never looked at her as anything more than his best mate’s little sister and Sansa knows that he probably never will. There are plenty of other girls at their school, Winterfell Academy, who take note of Jon Snow. She’s certainly not the only girl to get a quickened heartbeat around him and Sansa knows they all have better chances than she does.
But still, she always finds herself wanting to look her best when around him.
In his school uniform, Jon waits for them in the kitchen as he always does, Catelyn Stark pushing a piece of toast into his hand as she always does. Lyanna Snow works late every evening at the restaurant and is usually still asleep when Jon leaves for school in the mornings. Catelyn is always convinced, despite Jon being nearly eighteen now, that he is incapable of providing himself with a breakfast and takes it upon herself to make sure that he has something in his stomach before they all leave for school.
“Good morning,” Sansa smiles at him as Robb collects a bit of extra pocket money from their father, mentioning that he, Jon and Theon want to go to the music store after school.
“And what happened to your allowance?” Ned asks even as he reaches for his wallet. “I keep trying to tell you that you need to be more responsible with your pocket money, Robb.”
“Perhaps you should just give me a bit more pocket money to begin with, dad. Then I wouldn't always have to ask for more,” Robb gives their father a grin.
Jon smirks a little and then looks to Sansa. “Good morning,” he says with his own little smile that makes her stomach clench and she’s fairly certain that her cheeks are obviously pink.
The three leave the Stark home with good-byes to their parents and begin heading for the corner where they catch the bus for their school. Theon Greyjoy is already there, smoking a cigarette and saying something to two women – who look to be in their young twenties and dressed to get to work, waiting for their own bus. He’s grinning and the two women are smiling; one trying to hide her giggles behind her hand. Theon has a penchant for being nearly as charming as Robb.
Sansa walks at Jon’s side. He’s always been the quiet one of the boys’ trio. Everything with Robb and Theo is right there in the open, on their sleeve, but not Jon. Despite knowing him for her entire life, Sansa still feels like, most times, she doesn’t know him at all.
When girls come up to her at school and ask her questions about Jon Snow – all knowing that he is constantly over at the Stark house with her brother and Theon – Sansa can honestly say “I don’t know”.
“Theon!” Robb calls out as they get closer.
“Hey,” Theon turns and grins at his friends. He pulls out two more cigarettes for Jon and Robb and Sansa stands on the curb, hugging her books to her chest, listening as the boys smoke and talk about their latest song; the one Robb had been practicing in the bathroom that morning.
“What do you think?” Robb asks Jon.
“It could work,” Jon agrees. “Do you have your harmonica?” He then asks Theon.
“Always,” Theon gives a grin.
Sansa watches as he pulls it from his back pocket and with his cigarette carefully tucked between his fingers, he brings the harmonica to his mouth and begins playing a barrage of notes, his eyes gleaming at the two women and both opening giggling now.
“Come over after school,” Robb tells him. “We’ll finish putting the song together then.”
“Are all three of you going to fit in the toilet?” Sansa asks with a smile, only partially teasing.
“Maybe we can practice in your bedroom, Sansa,” Theon gives her a grin and Robb punches him in the arm. Sansa merely rolls her eyes.
The bus comes then, squealing to a stop at the curb, the doors opening. The three boys all take one fast last drag on their cigarettes before dropping them to the sidewalk and they follow Sansa on. She finds an open seat and swings herself in, sitting down beside the window. Robb and Theon head further down the aisle and Jon settles himself down next to Sansa.
She does her best to keep her heart beating at a fairly normal pace. She’s far too young to suffer from heart palpitations even though she feels like the doctor will understand once she explains that Jon Snow was sitting right next to her on the bus, his arm brushing against hers.
Their eyes catch and he gives her a small smile and Sansa commends herself for being able to return it without her face bursting in flames.
The bus pulls away from the curb and continues its journey to their school, kids all around them talking and laughing and shouting back and forth with others. Jon and Sansa sit quietly though, Sansa occupying herself with looking out at the familiar Wintertown homes and shops they pass every day. Despite the noise, from beside her, she realizes can hear Jon humming.
She turns her head away from the window and looks to him. He sometimes wears his hair pulled back into a man-bun, but today, his black curls are down and Sansa clutches her fingers around the books in her lap so she won’t find herself reaching out and tucking one behind his ear.
“I don’t recognize that one,” she speaks, startling Jon at the sound. His humming stops immediately and he looks at her. Sansa gives him a slight smile. “Is that another one you’re working on?”
“Um, yeah,” he answers and his cheeks look a little pink to her now for some reason. She wonders if Jon is actually blushing for some reason or another or if it’s just the bus this morning. The bus does feel a little warm to her as well; that or it’s just from sharing the ride with and sitting this close to Jon. “Just something I’ve been working on by myself. Haven’t shared it with the guys yet.”
“I like it,” she tells him with the same smile. “Does it have a name?”
Jon looks at her and seems to hesitate. He then nods his head and he keeps his eyes trained on hers as he answers. “Yeah…um, I Wanna Hold Your Hand.”
…