Archive of Our Own

Sansa wandered around her townhouse, avoiding her phone by all means. She’d done her laundry, deep cleaned the kitchen, and gone grocery shopping, only to finally open the sparsely populated chat with Jon Snow and text him, ‘Hi. Could we meet up this week?’

She scrolled through their previous conversations, and the last message they’d exchanged was four months ago, wishing him a happy birthday. She had no time to spiral further since he replied with a simple, ‘Sure. Could it be after work? Lmk where.’

She texted him the address of a restaurant near her house, and they made plans for next Thursday, so she only had to freak out for four days. She was an adult; she could do this.

Thursday came by quickly, and before long, she was waiting for him by the restaurant’s entrance. “Have you been here long?” he asked when he finally arrived. She shook her head no and told him the restaurant was just a couple of blocks away from her house as they walked towards an empty table.

They placed their orders and continued their small talk, comfortable even though she and Jon were not as close as he was to Robb and Arya. It wasn’t that strange; after all, they’d met like this before to make plans for Robb’s daughter’s birthday, their goddaughter, just a few months ago.

“I was gonna mention, my friend Gilly is a huge fan of your books. She keeps asking me if I have any news about the movie casting, but she doesn’t believe that I know anything.”

She chuckled softly and told him, “We haven’t cast anyone yet. It’s much more difficult than I expected, you know? When I wrote the book, I had certain faces in mind, but the casting director tells me that I need to have a clean slate for this.”

The conversation flowed, and they ate comfortably. Sansa waited to ask Jon what she needed until they had eaten most of their dinner, just in case. She didn’t want to ruin the entire evening in case this went south.

She gulped down the rest of her wine and began talking. “So, Jon, there was a reason I asked to meet with you tonight.” He looked at her attentively as he ate the last bits of his meal. 

“I want to start my own family,” she said bluntly. “I decided to embark on this journey myself. I feel sufficiently mature for this. I have financial stability. I feel ready, and I don’t want to go through the process of looking for someone to date, finding out if they want a serious relationship, and deciding if I want to have a child with them. I’m through with it.”

He nodded with some confusion. “That’s great, Sansa. But why are you telling me this?”

She breathed deeply and wished she still had some wine left. 

“I wanted to ask if you’d consider being my donor.” There, she said it. Jon, however, was speechless, and before he got a word out, she continued, “I know this might be an insane request, and trust me that I did not rush to this decision, but you were really the only person I could even consider asking. And I won’t hold a grudge if you say no; please know that I’m not forcing you to this,” she added a little desperately. “I can use an anonymous donor, but I kept wondering what kind of person they might be. The profiles can only say so much, you know?”

“But why me?” he finally asked.

She made sure to keep eye contact. “I’ve known you most of my life, Jon. I know you’re a good man. You’re kind and generous. You’ve always been respectful to everyone. You’re smart. And I swear I’m not trying to butter you up, but you’re a handsome man,” she said teasingly.

“So we would make pretty babies?”

She was not expecting that answer, but decided to maintain the playful mood. “Well, yes! Any child of mine would be beautiful, but a baby with our genes would be particularly cute, don’t you think?”

He chuckled and rubbed his face, but he couldn’t hide the way his ears had turned pink.

“Listen, Jon. I’m obviously not expecting you to give me an answer tonight, or even this week. I know this is a huge thing I’m asking you to do, so I expect you to take your time to make a decision. But we’d keep everything in line, and we’ll draw a legal agreement as well. I won’t be asking you for child support or expect you to take on any responsibilities whatsoever. This child would be mine and mine alone.”

“Have you… have you thought this through, Sansa? I know we’re not the closest, but it’s such an unusual choice for you.”

“I know. But you know what happened with Harry. What if the next man I meet is like that, too? And I’ve done the research. I got the blood work, and the scans, and everything looks good, and the women in Single Mom by Choice have been really encouraging.”

“What?”

“It’s a subreddit, but never mind. The point is, I’ve given this a lot of thought. It’s been months since I first thought of this; it’s not like the idea came to me last week,” she told him with conviction. She wanted him to be clear that this wasn’t a whim of hers and she would follow through with her plan regardless of his answer.

Later that night, he walked her to her house and told her he’d think about it. That was all she needed for now.

Jon went back home in a daze.

Never in a million years would he have guessed that Sansa would ask him that tonight, or ever. It was quite far from the planning for Robb’s birthday, as he had expected.

She hadn’t mentioned anything about not telling anyone, but it didn’t take an expert to guess she wanted discretion about this, which was killing him because he really wanted to talk about it with someone. Would his therapist count? Davos might share some interesting perspectives, and by law, he couldn’t say this to anyone.

He’d blanked out for a moment when she mentioned she wanted him to be his donor, wondering for a shameful minute if she’d meant she wanted to make a baby the traditional way, until he realized what she really meant. Then he’d wanted to call her out for being insensitive about the topic, since growing up without a father had affected him in many ways, but he realized that she might not be aware of the extent of it. They’d never been close, after all. He was Robb’s friend and then Arya’s when she got older, but Sansa had always had her little group of friends, and they rarely overlapped. All she knew was that a single mom raised him, and she and his mom had always liked each other.

He made a mental note to tell her to talk to his mother later.

He’d asked what she would need of him if he said yes. He’d need to go to the clinic to get an assessment to check his sperm quality first and then, if everything looked good, go with her the day of the procedure to produce a fresh sample that would later be placed in her. That was it. She’d need to do a pregnancy test two weeks after that to see if it’d worked.

“You might not even be a viable donor,” she’d told him.

He hadn’t even considered that. He and Ygritte had had a handful of scares, where he hadn’t used a condom, or she’d forgotten to take the pill that day, but she’d been swift to take Plan B. Val had a contraceptive implant inserted before she even met him, precisely not to have to worry about that.

He then wondered what he would feel knowing a child of his existed, but he wouldn’t be in their life. Maybe she was planning on moving somewhere else? She’d spent all those months after her breakup with Harry at her mom’s childhood house in Riverrun, and knew she had two uncles there. But that made no sense; if she were about to be a single mom, it would be easier for her to be close to her immediate family and friends for help.

He was thinking too much about this. At least Sansa had been realistic about him needing time to think about her request.

But one thing was clear to him that night: Sansa would be a wonderful mother, regardless of what he decided.

He didn’t see Sansa for the next three weeks. Jon didn’t want her to think he was ghosting her or anything, so he liked her Instagram stories every other day, since he was in her close friends list. He’d cringed when he looked through their chat history and saw how empty it was, and it would’ve been awkward if he suddenly started texting her every day. Arya had often teased him for being a dry texter, but certainly, he could make more of an effort.

He arrived early at Robb’s birthday party to find Jeyne and Catelyn setting up the patio decorations and Sansa in the kitchen finishing some appetizers. The birthday boy was conspicuously absent.

“Where’s Robb?”

“Upstairs, giving Elric a bath,” Sansa replied as she took out a dip from the food processor. “Rickon is watching over Jocelyn. They’re watching Peppa, I think.”

He greeted Catelyn and Jeyne and went in search of Robb. He found him in Elric’s room, trying to put a plaid shirt on the four-year-old, who was fighting him and trying to put on a dirty SpongeBob shirt he’d just grabbed from the laundry basket.

“Happy birthday, man,” he said to him as he hugged his oldest friend. He decided to give him a hand. “Hey, little dude,” he told Elric. “Are we gonna match?” He pointed to the plaid shirt he was wearing, and the little boy suddenly got excited about wearing his own.

“Thanks for that,” Robb said as he finally finished dressing his son. They both laughed as they watched Elric run towards his mom, pointing at his shirt and then at Jon. “Thirty-five. Can you believe we’re getting old?”

“That’s more of a you problem,” he teased back with a grin.

More guests started arriving, and the party went into full swing shortly after. Some old high school classmates made it to the party, and he spent some time reconnecting with them before going looking for Arya. He spotted Sansa with her sister, carrying Jocelyn in her arms. She was making faces at the almost two-year-old, who giggled before looking at her aunts again and burying her face in her neck, as Arya pretended to bite her chubby foot. 

She looked radiant right at that moment, and he felt his heart clench. He made a decision then and there.

He found her some time later in the kitchen again, and she asked him, “Do you want a strawberry margarita? This is your time to speak up.”

“Sansa, can I have a moment?” he asked before she turned on the blender. She put the lid on the jar and looked at him.

“I’ll do it. I’ll be your donor.” Straight to the point. He was fascinated as he saw her process the news, and her face broke into an ear-to-ear smile.

“You’re sure?” she whispered, and when he nodded, she crossed the space between them and launched herself into her arms. “Thank you, thank you!” she kept saying, muffled by his neck. He hugged her closer when she pressed a kiss to his face, and he replied by kissing her on her forehead when they finally disentangled themselves.

“That baby will be lucky to have you.”

He meant it.

Jon had to wait for a couple of days after Robb’s party to get the best sample for the fertility analysis. Apparently, he had to spend a determined number of hours without ejaculating to help with the volume and concentration. He’d get the results a few days after that.

Once he got the results and they all looked good, it was she who had to wait an extra month before she ovulated again.

She met him at the clinic the day of. They talked little as she filled the intake form and then they were both taken to different rooms. They took her vitals, did a new scan and blood tests, and she tried not to think about what Jon was doing at the moment. When it was time for the procedure, they asked if she wanted Jon in the room with her, but she wasn’t sure he would feel comfortable with that, so she said no.

The process was quick and simple, so she was out of there faster than she expected and was surprised to find him waiting for her outside the room.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” she said, knowing that Jon had taken the morning off work for this.

“It’s fine. I read about the procedure, so I knew it wasn’t too invasive and you should be fine, but you know, just in case.”

She gave his hand an affectionate squeeze as they walked towards the parking lot. “I should be fine. They mentioned I might get cramps after this, but they shouldn’t be worse than my regular ones.” 

He looked mildly concerned, but simply nodded.

“I’ll need to do a pregnancy test in two weeks, so we’ll know by then.

“Just let me know if you need my help with anything,” he said with such seriousness that she couldn’t help but smile fondly at him and confirm his request.

She was grateful that she could keep herself busy for the next two weeks; otherwise, she’d be driving herself crazy with anticipation. She’d been working on a new book draft, but it was still in the early planning stages, and she had to fly to King’s Landing for the chemistry tests of the actors who reached the last round of auditions for the roles of Leo and Selene.

Her debut book, Travelled Roads, about two former lovers who reconnected after tragedy struck them, had become a big success, especially among the fans of the ‘right person, wrong time’ trope. It had been something she’d started towards the end of her relationship with Harry, and finished over the course of two months in Riverrun, with her uncle Brynden being the first person to read the final draft, after he’d spent weeks looking after her.

Since then, she’d published four other books and had found popularity with fans of romance and adult fiction novels. It was a good level of fame; people who read her novels knew who she was, but she could maintain her privacy for the most part.

When the two weeks were up, she bought a home pregnancy test and rushed back to her hotel room. When she saw the one line indicating that she was not pregnant, she was grateful to the doctor who had been blunt and realistic about possibly not getting pregnant at her first try. Sansa had been annoyed, of the mind that she should be positive to attract good manifestation vibes, but at the same time had told herself she needed to temper her expectations.

She ordered herself room service and stayed in bed for the rest of the day.

She’d decided early on to keep this to herself until she could give her family concrete news, and apart from Jon, the only one who had an inkling of what she was doing was Bran, since he’d suggested it. But she didn’t want to burden her baby brother with this, and since Jon was probably expecting news from her, she texted him.

Sansa: [Attached IMG_19.png]

Jon: Shit, I’m sorry, Sansa.

Jon: When will you need me again?

Sansa: I’m in King’s Landing rn. I should be back by next week

Sansa: Two weeks, I think

Jon: I was reading about IUI the other day; it’s not that uncommon that it doesn’t take the first time.

Jon: Don’t beat yourself up over this.

That last text almost made her cry, so she just liked the message, locked her phone screen, and browsed through the TV channels until she settled on a channel airing a Law & Order: SVU marathon and fell asleep shortly after.

She found herself in a familiar situation two weeks later, with Jon next to her as she waited to be called again for the insemination procedure. Jon had arrived earlier than she had, so the doctors could wash the sample, and the wait time wasn’t as long.

When she was called, the nurse asked him if he would like to accompany Sansa, and he nodded instinctively. “If that’s okay with you,” he added.

Sansa gave him a small smile and nodded before changing into a patient gown. 

It was reassuring to have him there; she wouldn’t lie. She knew it had been her choice to do this on her own, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t craving some affection. Jon seemed happy to support her, so she’d take it.

The procedure flew by as it did last time. The only difference had been the warmth of Jon’s hand as he held hers. There had been no pain, but she still felt more nervous than she had before, worried that she might have more trouble than expected conceiving, so Jon’s presence had been exactly what she’d needed.

“Do you want to have children, Jon?” she asked him as they walked towards her car.

“Someday, I think. I’ve never been with a partner serious enough to consider it,” he told her.

Val had been his last girlfriend, and she remembered that she was good with children. She’d been sweet on Elric, and had brought her own nephew to his birthday party, and the boy adored her, so Sansa did her best to hide her confusion. She’d seen less of Ygritte, his other long-term girlfriend. But she didn’t seem to like her, so Sansa did little to befriend her whenever Jon brought her around.

“What about you?” he asked, bringing her out of her reverie. “I mean, I figured— I’m sorry,“ he cut himself off before saying anything else.

Sansa knew exactly what he was going to say.

“Of course, I thought I’d have children with Harry. But then I also thought he’d propose and we’d marry, so here we are.” The air was heavy with awkwardness, but instead of letting the silence linger, her mouth kept running. “I had a miscarriage four years ago. I didn’t even know I was pregnant. I woke up in a pool of blood, and Harry was out of town, so I called my mother in a panic and she rushed me to the hospital. He blamed me. Said I should’ve known.” 

She wasn’t sure why she’d told Jon this, but figured they should become closer after all of this. If inserting his semen inside of her to help her have a baby didn’t make them friends, she didn’t know what else would.

“For fucks sake. Fucking prick,” Jon replied, dismayed.

Only her parents knew about the miscarriage. Jeyne had been close to giving birth, and she didn’t think the added nerves would be good for her. As for the rest of her siblings, she didn’t want them to judge her for staying with Harry after that. Jon, thankfully, seemed more pissed about Harry than even considering asking why she didn’t dump him, so she had her answer there. Jon was safe to confide in.

They finally reached her car, and he surprised her with a warm hug. It felt good to be enveloped in Jon’s arms, and she breathed in the woody scent of his cologne.

“Two weeks?” he asked after they broke apart.

“Yep.”

“Alright, you let me know then. I’ve been eating foods to increase the sperm count, you know?” he mentioned, looking a little embarrassed. “Lots of fish and seafood for the omega-3, and nuts for the zinc and antioxidants.”

She giggled then, and he joined in. “Let’s hope that works, yes?”

She hugged him again and pressed a kiss to his cheek, feeling her belly swoop as she saw Jon’s eyes crinkle when he smiled. She got in her car quickly after that, thinking her ovulation was playing tricks with her, but Jon looked none the wiser, so she felt relieved she didn’t make things awkward again. Still, she could not stop the smile on her face as she drove home.

When the two weeks were up, she did as instructed and took a pregnancy test at home. As soon as she saw the two lines, she put on her clothes and rushed to the clinic to take the indicated blood tests to confirm it. She’d have to wait 24 to 48 hours for the results, so she decided to go to the movie theater and do a double feature to distract herself for a couple of hours.

Sansa opened the email from the clinic the next morning, right as she got the notification. She read the email so many times that the words started to blur.

“Increased levels of hGC confirming pregnancy… watch out for symptoms such as cramping, spotting, nausea, breast tenderness, fatigue… additional monitoring will be required and your OB/GYN will determine further treatments…”

She was pregnant. She was pregnant!

She put her hand on her stomach, and although she knew there was nothing she would feel right now, she hoped that the baby forming in her could feel her love already.

Sansa cursed herself once again for keeping this a secret, but she would wait at least two months before telling her family. She needed to tell Jon as well, but gave herself an extra day, just for herself.

She ended up calling him two days later once she knew he was home. She didn’t think this would be the kind of thing to relay through a text message or in the middle of a workday.

“Sansa? Is everything okay?” he asked her as he answered her call.

“Hi, Jon,” she said, and she was certain she couldn’t hide the smile in her voice. “I’m good, everything’s good. More than good, actually. The tests were positive.”

“It’s confirmed then? You’re pregnant?”

“Yes!”

“I’m so happy for you, Sansa. I truly am,” his voice had softened, and she was sure that if she closed her eyes, she would be able to see him smiling so broadly his eyes would be barely visible.

“I can’t thank you enough, Jon,” she replied, her voice breaking a little. She started to blink away the tears gathering in her eyes, but she was alone, and this was a happy occasion, so she let them fall. She sniffled a little, “I know this was a crazy request, and you just did this for me.”

“I– It was easy to say yes to you.”

She let out a sound between a sob and a laugh, and thanked him once more.

“I only said yes because of you, Sansa. I told you, you’ll be a wonderful mother. That baby is lucky already.”

“And I’m glad they’ll have a part of you as well.”

After Sansa had had her first ultrasound, she decided it was time to tell her family about her pregnancy. Her mother still liked to have family dinners at least once a month, so she had the perfect opportunity to drop the news there, rather than dealing with the family group chat and its dozens of notifications.

She’d arrived at her parents’ house and promptly vomited. She wasn’t sure if it was due to the pregnancy or her nerves. She took her chance once everyone was seated.

“I have some news I’d like to share,” she started. Her father told Rickon to be quiet and motioned for her to continue. “I’m pregnant.”

She took a sip of water as everyone processed the news at different rates. Jeyne was the first one to react. “That’s wonderful, Sansa!” she said with a big smile. “Elric and Jocelyn will be so excited to have a new cousin.”

“How far along are you?” her mother asked.

“Eleven weeks. I have the sonogram in my purse if you want to see.” She didn’t wait for a reply and simply stood up and left for the foyer, where she had left her bag.

She returned and handed the picture to her mom, who stood to hug her while saying, “Oh, sweetheart!”

Her dad looked a little teary-eyed as he looked at the picture. “We didn’t even know you were in a relationship, Sansa.”

“That’s because I’m not. I did intrauterine insemination and used a donor.” This prompted a new round of reactions from her parents and siblings, all talking over each other. She shared a look with Bran, who was giving her a knowing smile.

“And who is this donor? Will they be sharing custody?” Catelyn’s round of questions continued.

“It’s an acquaintance.” That’s what she’d decided she’d say. “And I asked Uncle Edmure if he knew anyone in northern family law who could help in a case like this.”

“Edmure knew?!”

“No, I said it was for a friend.”

“And what’s changed? Why now, Sans?” asked Robb.

“I want my own family, and I don’t want to wait to find someone to date again and see if they want a serious relationship and then decide if I want to have children with them or not. And I don’t want to rush into something with someone just because I want a baby! Harry already wasted so many years of my life. I don’t want to depend on someone like that again.”

Mentions of her ex still made everyone in her family angry. After all, how could they react to someone saying, “I don’t see myself as a monogamous relationship type,” after seven years of dating, and refusing to propose?

“You know what? Good for you, Sans. I mean, you’re the one carrying the baby, and you’re a fucking best-selling writer; you don’t need a man!” Arya said approvingly.

“Can I be the godfather?” Rickon asked.

“No, I was going to ask Bran, since he was the one who gave me the idea,” she replied, looking at her brother.

“Of course, Sansa. I’d be honored,” he replied with a big smile.

“I just wish you’d told us, sweetling,” her mother said, “I would’ve gone with you to your appointments.”

“I’d love for you to come with me to my next ultrasound, Mom,” she replied, feeling her eyes start to wet.

“Do you have a due date, Sansy?” asked Jeyne.

“Early November.”

Her father walked up to her and hugged her tightly, followed by her mother, who was openly crying now. Rickon yelled, “Group hug!” and she found herself in the middle of a Stark pile, between laughs and more kisses.

The next time Jon saw Sansa in person was during Rickon’s graduation party. She still wasn’t showing, and if he didn’t know about her being pregnant, he would’ve probably thought she was just bloated. 

She was walking around with a big bowl of ice cream and smiled when she saw him.

“Hi, Jon!” She set aside the bowl and hugged him. He felt the slight curve of her stomach, and she smiled conspiratorially at him. 

“How are you? How have you been feeling?”

“Do you remember all those times I made fun of you and Robb because you always got sick when you drank and I didn’t? This is my karma.” Jon laughed loudly; he was not expecting that comment. “But I’ve read that the morning sickness should start to pass soon. Although it hasn’t been just a morning thing for me these past weeks, it’s awful.”

“Sounds like it. I’m sorry,” he told her, and laughed again when she rolled her eyes at him.

“Other than that, it hasn’t been too bad. I just have heartburn, and I’m tired all the time.”

“What about cravings?”

“Mainly ice cream for now. And I ate almost an entire jar of pickles the other day.”

“I can help if you need.” He wasn’t sure why these words were coming out, but he realized that he did want to be there for Sansa and support her, even though they had a legal agreement explicitly saying that he was exempt from any responsibilities. “I–”

He was cut off by the graduate boy, who jumped at him. “Jon!”

“Hey Rick, congrats,” he said as he patted him on his back. “You have to be an adult now.”

Rickon made a disgusted face. “You come here, on my graduation day, and tell me I have to find a job,” he replied, imitating Vito Corleone, making both Jon and Sansa cackle.

“Sansa has a bun in the oven; did she tell you?”

“Yes, she mentioned it,” he said, looking at Sansa and noticing the amusement in her eyes.

“Can you believe she’s not letting me be the godfather?” the youngest Stark said with indignation. “Bran won’t be as fun!”

“I can’t help you there, Rick. She’s the boss.”

“I’ve been betrayed on all sides…” he muttered dramatically as some of his friends called him over.

Sansa didn’t linger and retreated to the kitchen, so he went looking for Robb or Arya. After some time doing more talking than he’s used to, he escaped to the bathroom, but once he was on his way back, he noticed something– more like someone and realized Sansa had dozed off on an armchair. 

She’d covered herself with the cardigan she’d been wearing– spring in the North tended to retain some of the winter chill– but it had slipped off, and she shook a little in her sleep. Without thinking, he walked towards the armchair and readjusted the sweater so it was covering her again. For good measure, he grabbed the throw Catelyn kept on the sofa and placed it over her legs. She was wearing tights under her dress, but still, he wanted to make sure she was warm.

Once he rejoined the party on the patio, he told Robb that Sansa was napping in the living room, and Robb made sure that no one bothered her. She emerged some half-hour later, still looking a bit dazed but in good spirits. Jon saw her make her way over to Robb and Jeyne, when Robb suddenly shook his head and pointed towards Jon, who looked away just in time, pretending he didn’t see any of that.

Sansa caught his eye a little after that and simply smiled at him.

He’d never paid much attention to how cute baby clothes were before this entire ordeal with Sansa, but now he couldn’t stop himself from buying anything he found cute. He had a small pile of clothes to give to Sansa (and her baby) now.

He didn’t see much of Sansa after Rickon’s party, at least not in person. She was flying in and out of King’s Landing now that production was starting on the Travelled Roads adaptation, and also Maidenpool, since they were shooting on location. She’d worked on the script with another writer and was also getting a producer’s credit on the film. He asked her about filming the movie and what it was like, and she recounted things so perfectly that it was like being with her on set. 

Things settled back to normal after some weeks, which meant each of them living their lives separately as they’d always done, but they were both making an effort to stay in touch. She was an easy person to talk to and he realized how eager he was to hear her random updates. He’d even stopped being such a dry texter for her.

He was supervising the construction of a residential complex in Queenscrown, so he’d been out of the city constantly, but he knew that Sansa had returned to Winterfell. He devoured any additional morsel of information Arya or Robb slipped his way whenever he met them.

She was barely posting on her social media accounts, but Arya solved that question when she confirmed that she was locked in, writing a new book. He typed and deleted a dozen messages asking her about it before turning off his phone and going to bed.

He received an invitation to Sansa’s baby shower a couple of weeks later. He snapped a screenshot of it and forwarded it to her.

Sansa: Oh, good, you got it!

Jon: Why didn’t you bring this up earlier?

Sansa: I asked Jeyne to include you in the guest list

Sansa: Unless you don’t want to come 

Sansa: If so, there’s no problem

Jon: No, I do want to attend

Jon: Just wanted to confirm you’d be comfortable with it

Sansa: Of course I am, otherwise I wouldn’t have invited you

The day arrived three weeks later. He’d gotten her the expensive bassinet with a special swaddle that was supposed to rock the baby when they cried and keep them from turning onto their stomach. They’d deliver it to Sansa’s place in a couple of days.

They were celebrating the shower at the Starks' place, since their house was much bigger, so he made his way to the familiar house. He laughed when Arya opened the door and looked at him like he was handing her a lifeline.

“That bad, is it?” he asked her.

“Not the shower per se, but too many people are asking me now when it's gonna be my turn, and when am I getting married since Sansa is skipping the decent order of things. But it’s not as bad as Jeyne’s baby shower.” She added that last part in a hushed tone.

Sansa had asked Jeyne, that was Poole, her Jeyne, not to include the cliché activities that people usually did at baby showers. Eleyna, Robb’s Jeyne’s sister, had been eager to include all the stereotypical baby shower games, making the guests cringe through the "dirty diaper” game and trying out baby food.

“Hey, Jon!” Jeyne Poole said as he walked into the kitchen. “You can put those diapers in Ned’s office. We’ll be doing the raffle later. Would you like a mocktail?” He nodded and let her serve him the fruity drink. He looked around, and the Starks’ house was decorated like a high-end picnic, with butter yellow and periwinkle details. Jeyne had translated Sansa’s love for lemons into motifs for the baby shower, with lemon-shaped cookies, a tower of pastel colored macaroons, and cupcakes with yellow buttercream and little blueberries on top. Lemon-patterned linens and floral arrangements with white roses, eucalyptus, and baby’s breath decorated the individual tables, and there was a large table with all the food arrangements.

“Alright, let me explain our setup here. Over there on the patio, we have the block station, where you can decorate your own wood block with paint. We have the baby book, basically: take a Polaroid picture and introduce yourself to them. There are about a hundred little ducks around, so whoever collects the most wins. We’ll be playing baby Jeopardy later, and here,” she said as she handed him a pin. “Pin this to your clothes. You can’t say ‘baby’. If someone hears you, they can take yours.” He gave her a look and she laughed, understanding him immediately. “I’m not participating in the game.”

He hadn’t interacted much with her over the years, but knew that Sansa had chosen her as the baby’s godmother. If this were an indication of how dedicated she’d be to the baby, he’d say that Sansa had chosen well.

“Gods, this baby is tap dancing on my bladder today,” he heard Sansa mutter behind him. He turned around and she smiled when she saw him. “Jon! You made it!” She wore a pretty mid-length white dress with a blue chinoiserie pattern, with soft, sheer sleeves, white sandals, and her hair in a half-up, half-down style.

“I got you the saddle bassinet. They’ll mail it to your house; I thought it’d be easier to do that rather than haul it from here and back.”

“Oh, Jon! I didn’t think anyone would actually buy that. I only added it to the gift list because Margaery insisted.”

It hadn’t been a cheap gift, but he didn’t regret it at all.

“Sansy!” He tried not to groan when he heard Theon show up. “You know, there’s still time.”

“Time for what?”

“To announce you’re naming the baby Theon!” he replied with his typical grin.

Sansa burst out laughing. “And when did I decide that?”

“I think… you’ve always known,” he replied in a more serious tone, but was clearly holding in a laugh. “And besides, Theon Stark has so much aura! You know I’m right.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically, but was clearly amused. “You’re gonna keep going?” Theon nodded, and she sighed. “I’ll add it to the To Be Considered list.”

He fist-pumped and kissed her cheek. “Best mom ever already!”

He waited a few minutes until the coast was clear and said in a low voice, “I know I don’t have any say in this, but you’re not seriously considering naming the baby Theon?”

She giggled as she put her face in her hands. “Theon has been making a variation of that joke ever since I announced the pregnancy. Relax.”

He frowned in distaste, which only seemed to amuse her more. She grabbed a macaroon from a plate and forced him to eat it. “Stop being grumpy!”

Sansa scurried away after that, with everyone wanting to talk to the mom-to-be, from her old workplace friends, family acquaintances, and some people he recognized from high school.

He was chatting with two of Sansa’s college friends some time later. A vet technician named Mya, to whom he’d lost his pin after a couple of minutes chatting with her, and a woman named Myranda, who was an accountant.

“Who’s that woman Sansa is talking to?” he asked them when he spotted her talking to a blonde, older woman he didn’t recognize.

“That’s Anya; she’s Harry’s aunt. His parents died when he was young, and she practically raised him. She was pretty pissed about how things went down between them. She adored Sansa.”

“Oh. Well, that’s too bad, I guess.”

“Harry’s an idiot,” said Mya with disdain. It seemed like Sansa had won their friends over after the breakup.

“Anyway, let’s talk about something more interesting than Harry Hardyng,” Myranda interrupted. “Do you think it’ll be a girl or a boy? My bet is a girl. Sansa looks amazing.”

“Aren’t all pregnant women beautiful?” he asked with caution.

“Not really. Women carrying girls are usually the ones who get that pregnancy glow. Boys suck the life out of you.”

“Randa, you can’t just say that!” Mya interjected.

“Sorry, I’ve seen enough pregnant women to back this theory up. What do you think, Jon?”

Jon looked like a deer caught in the headlights and settled for just saying, “I think Sansa looks great, regardless of what she’s carrying.”

“Ha! Good answer, boy.”

The afternoon went on, and he found Sansa sitting at one of the tables that Catelyn had rented for the occasion. He went back to refill her mocktail and sat next to her in comfortable silence.

“Have you enjoyed your baby shower?”

She smiled and nodded, but he could tell she was getting tired. “Despite all the peeing, the baby has been good today.”

“At least the morning sickness has already passed, right?” he asked in a lighthearted tone.

“Yes, but I was not expecting to feel this horny. It’s driving me insane.”

“I can help you with that,” he blurted.

The two of them looked at each other, not hiding their mutual surprise. He wasn’t intending to say that, but the look on her face told her that hers had been an unexpected outburst too.

He was about to apologize when Jeyne walked over to where they were sitting and grabbed Sansa’s hand. 

“Come on, it’s time for the reveal now!”

Sansa had asked her friend not to do a big, tacky gender reveal, and Jeyne had kept her word, limiting it to a simple cake that Sansa would cut into, and the buttercream inside was to be pink or blue.

The guests gathered around the central table, and Catelyn handed Sansa a knife. She carefully cut a slice of cake and lifted it with the server to reveal the pink buttercream inside the layers. She squealed and dropped the cake on a plate to cry into her mother’s arms. The rest of the Starks didn’t waste time and surrounded her, as both Jeynes dutifully cut and distributed the rest of the cake.

“Great news!” Theon bellowed, “You can name the baby Thea!”

“I told you it would be a girl, didn’t I?” muttered Myranda to his side with a shit-eating grin, and all he could do was chuckle.

They opened the presents a little after that, and Jon couldn’t hide his embarrassment as everyone gawked at him when he revealed he’d bought Sansa the bassinet she’d asked for. Sansa’s friend Margaery seemed pleased as punch about this development.

Sansa approached him after the guests started to scatter. She was pretty tired herself and wanted to head back home, as she had announced some minutes ago.

“Jon. Let’s not make this a bigger deal than it should, but did you mean what you said earlier?”

He couldn’t feign ignorance since the moment had been replaying in his head for the past hour, and looked at her when he replied, “Yes. I’m willing to help any way I can.”

She bit her lip and looked away, but couldn’t hide the blush in her cheeks. “Could you… tonight…?”

“Yes,” he replied, without hesitation.

She looked up from under her eyelashes, still biting her lip, but he could see a smirk forming. He suddenly wished he were the one biting her lip. 

She walked away abruptly, and he started saying goodbye to people as well, not wanting to delay this any further. Her dad would bring the gifts over later in the week. They left at the same time, and he followed her in his car to her little townhouse. He took those minutes to calm himself down, since his mind was running a hundred miles per hour. Just what would this all mean? 

He parked a block away from Sansa’s place and found her waiting for him at her door. She seemed calmer than he felt right now.

He walked into the foyer and took off his coat and sneakers. He looked around and was pleasantly surprised at how warm it felt. This was a home.

He heard a soft meow between his legs and saw a pretty ragdoll cat walking between them.

“That’s Dutchess. She’s very friendly,” she told him before he kneeled to scratch her face.

The Starks were all dog people. He remembered they’d all adopted a whole litter of malamute puppies back when they were younger, but Sansa’s had been killed in a hit-and-run some years later. Robb had mentioned at some point that she suspected her ex-boyfriend had been behind it, since she’d seen one of his lackeys driving what she thought was the same car that had hit Lady.

With Dutchess, the cat had shown up in her backyard not long after she’d moved in. She’d fed her some tuna a couple of times, and she kept coming back, and in the end, Sansa took her in after checking if she was chipped or not. She says the cat knew she needed a companion now that Harry wasn’t there; he remembered Arya telling him at some point, and he smiled at the fluffy cat.

Eventually he stood up and followed her inside. “You haven’t been here since I remodeled, right?”

“No. The only time I came here, everything was still white and gray, and you were terribly annoyed by it,” he said as he looked at the mid-century inspired decor in the house. She had really good taste.

“I’ll give you a tour, then. So we’re in the living room, as you can see.” She opened one of the doors, and inside there was a neatly organized office with a huge library that covered an entire wall. “My office,” she said and kept walking, “and the kitchen is my favorite. I mean, look at these hand-painted tiles from Pentos!” They were really nice tiles and looked very pretty with the blue cabinets and marble surfaces of the space.

“It’s lovely.”

“I know,” she said with a smirk. She asked for a moment to refill Dutchess’ food and water bowls as he petted the cat some more. “Would you like to see the nursery?” she asked in a softer tone after she was done.

He nodded and followed her upstairs. The room was right in front of the master bedroom, and he couldn’t help but gasp when she turned on the lights. It was painted a light sage green, and there was a big wooden crib with a lace canopy and a mobile with little birds hanging from it. On the other wall, there was a cream-colored armchair and a mural with vines and flowers in the background.

“Rickon painted that. Isn’t it beautiful? I cried when I saw it.” He sat in the armchair for a moment and was pleased to find it as comfortable as it looked. Sansa giggled, but kept talking. “The crib was a gift from my uncle Brynden; he carved it himself. And you wanna know a funny story? I actually bought these years ago,” she said as she pointed at the prints hung on one of the walls. They were vintage prints of forest animals, and they completed the decoration perfectly. “I saw them at this flea market in Riverrun, and immediately thought I’d like them for my baby’s room.”

“This is incredible, Sansa,” he said sincerely. “It looks straight out of a fairytale.” Seemingly, that was the right thing to say because she beamed at him and he couldn’t help but smile back.

The air was charged after they left the nursery and crossed the space to her room. Sansa knew that she could back out and Jon wouldn’t hold it against her, but she really needed this.

“Would you mind giving me a couple of minutes to get ready?” she asked shyly. “You can make yourself comfortable.”

“Of course.”

She quickly locked herself inside her bathroom to calm her nerves. She hadn’t been with anyone after her breakup with Harry; all her dates in the years after had been that lackluster. She wasn’t one to shy away from sex, but she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious, with her belly that was making her feel like an RV more and more and the plain nude cotton panties that she was wearing. At least her bra had some cute lace trimmings.

She was relieved that she’d been so thorough that morning while getting ready for the baby shower, and had removed her leg and armpit hair and painstakingly scrubbed and oiled her skin during her shower. She wasn’t about to shower again, but she did grab her handheld bidet to wash herself down there and clean up the sweat and any remaining discharge from the day. At least that would be one thing she wouldn’t overthink about.

She took off her dress, removed her hair clip, and wrapped herself in the sleeping robe she’d left hanging there that morning and walked out again.

Jon was sitting in her bed, and apparently, what he understood for making himself comfortable was just removing his socks. His eyes widened as soon as she stepped out and took her in.

“So, it’s been some time for me,” she muttered, a little embarrassed. 

Suddenly, he was standing in front of her, giving her one of those small smiles that had no reason to disarm her the way they did. She could almost feel the blood pounding in her ears from how fast her heart was beating as Jon leaned down and whispered against her lips, “I’ll make it good for you.”

The kiss started softly, almost as if Jon was asking her for permission. She pressed her lips more firmly against his, and he quickly got the hint, deepening the kiss without hesitation and pulling her closer. Or at least as much as her bump allowed.

She threw her arms around his neck and lost herself in the sensation. It had been a while since she’d been properly kissed, and Jon Snow was a hell of a kisser. It must’ve been those plush lips of his.

He traced her jaw with his lips and kissed down her neck, eliciting new, pleased sounds from her, as he slowly moved them closer to her bed. She felt his hand slide under her robe and carefully grab one of her breasts, and in a moment of bravery, she undid the tie of the robe and let it pool on the floor.

She saw him take her in, but didn’t give him a chance to say anything and went back to kissing him. He was teasing both of her breasts now, and she moaned into his mouth. His hands moved to her back to unclasp her bra, but she stopped him. “Perhaps not tonight.” She still felt a bit insecure about how her breasts had changed.

They finally made it to the bed and she lay down on it, wishing once more that her lingerie was more of the usual style she liked. Ugh, she had such cute sets that she wished Jon had seen her in before, and this wasn’t his first impression.

“May I?” he asked, as he grabbed the edge of her panties to pull them down.

“I feel like Bridget Jones,” she said, but Jon didn’t seem to understand her joke, so she dismissed it. “Never mind. Take them off.”

She looked up at the ceiling once she was bare to him, thankful that at least he couldn’t see how flushed her face was.

She felt him kissing his way up her legs; first her ankles, then her calves, and then her thighs. Once she felt the anticipation was about to make her burst, he gave one confident lick to her pussy. She gasped, but didn’t get a chance to breathe, as Jon kept feasting on her, lapping at her and teasing her entrance with his tongue. He paid special attention to her clit, flicking it with his tongue and driving her crazy.

She couldn’t say if it was the pent-up hormones, the heightened senses, or if Jon was just so good at eating pussy, but once he sucked at her clit, she came harder than she ever had. Her entire body was shuddering, but Jon kept licking at her as her body came down from her high, until she whispered it was too much.

He looked up at her, with a pleased smirk on his face and his lips shiny from her juices. She couldn’t be bothered to roll her eyes at him, and just let her head fall back, and tried to catch her breath.

“Did you like that?” he asked as he crawled up and lay on his side to watch her, his eyes darkening when he fully took in how affected she was.

“Oh, shut up. You know I did.” He chuckled and leaned down to kiss her.

“Do you want to do anything more?” he asked, reverting to his polite self. “It’s fine for me.”

This had definitely scratched an itch, and in another moment, it would’ve kept her satisfied. But right now, she needed to be pounded by Jon Snow. She wouldn’t risk either of them chickening out after this night.

Her reply was to kiss him again, as she started undoing the buttons of his shirt. He got the hint and swiftly finished unbuttoning his shirt and taking off his pants. She smirked when she saw the big tent in his boxers and bit her lip once those joined the rest of his clothes and she saw his hardened cock.

“Oh, fuck. I don’t have any condoms with me,” he said. “I wasn’t exactly expecting this, you know? But I’m clean.”

She nodded in reply. “Me too.” She didn’t have any condoms at hand, but she was clean too, and it’s not like she was risking getting pregnant, anyway.

Without further ado, she turned around and put herself on her hands and knees. Jon’s mind caught up with him a second later, but she didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath as he saw her present herself.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful…” he whispered against her skin, as he softly pressed kisses down her spine. She wished she’d taken off her bra after all.

She was still wet from her previous orgasm, so the first finger slid in easily, then a second one. He was pumping them inside of her with precision, and she felt a new peak building up. He took his fingers away and started entering slowly, and she moaned at the sensation of being filled.

His pace picked up fast, since the two of them were already riled up. She didn’t mind much; she wasn’t exactly in the condition for a sex marathon, and just wanted to cum again.

His deep groans were turning her on even more. She loved how he kept muttering how good she felt and prompting her to be vocal about her pleasure, since he loved hearing her moan. His hips sped up, and he held onto her flesh hard enough that she was certain he’d leave an imprint, but she didn’t care. 

A particularly hard thrust finally undid her and she pulsed around his cock as she came with his name on her lips. He pulled out a moment after that, and she heard him moaning as he finished on his hand.

She turned around to catch her breath for the second time that night and finally felt herself relax after weeks.

Jon returned with a wet towel a few minutes later, and he helped clean her up. But she was too tired to do anything more.

“Ugh, I don’t wanna get up,” she whined.

She heard him chuckle, and then he was on her side. “Come on, I’ll give you a hand.” She stretched out both arms, and he pulled her up to a sitting position. He handed Sansa her robe, and she made her way to the bathroom to pee and clean herself up.

She looked in the mirror and laughed to herself. She looked properly fucked.

She combed her hair and braided it like she usually did to sleep, did her skincare routine, and walked out. Jon wasn’t there, but she saw his clothes were still on the floor, so he hadn’t taken off like a thief in the night. She put on her pajamas and decided to check on her phone to distract herself. 

Jon came back a few moments later with a glass of water for her, and she felt the warm feeling in her heart again when he gave her that soft smile she was so fond of. Oh no.

He picked up his clothes, and when she didn’t say anything, he started getting dressed in silence. She had no idea what to say to him. Was this a one-night stand? Were they fuckbuddies now? Could she even casually hook up with the sperm donor of her baby?

Her head was starting to spin, but she thought that at least she’d kept her composure since Jon didn’t mention anything odd about her mood. 

“Right. So I guess I’ll just head out?” he asked, looking awkward.

“I’ll walk you out.”

She followed him to the entrance, where he put his shoes and coat back on. 

“Jon, I–” “Sansa–”

“You go first,” he said.

She took a steadying breath and said, “I know we’ve been doing things all out of order, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to do anything after tonight, okay?”

She almost missed it, but she noticed the brief look of confusion on his face. He smiled at her now, though. “Same here. I was doing a friend a favor. So you know, if you need my help again, you can send me a word.”

Sansa nodded, unsure how to reply, and not trusting her words at the moment. But she smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek, and let herself be engulfed in a hug.

“Text me when you get home,” she told him as she saw him walk down her block to where he had parked her car. He turned around briefly and nodded at her.

Now that she was alone, she could start freaking out. She imagined her post if she went onto Reddit to ask for advice: I (32/F) hooked up with my baby’s sperm donor (35/M). We’ve had no previous relations before this, and legally, he is under no obligation to care for this baby. What are we?

Just what the fuck had she done?

Jon felt numb while driving home.

No, not numb. It was more like he was waking from a deep slumber. The thought that he could’ve been this foolish…

He’d have to move. Ask if he could be relocated to another branch or look for another job. But knowing that Sansa carried his child and he’d have to pretend they weren’t anything to him might actually kill him. 

Maybe he should’ve denied Sansa’s request and had her use one of the available anonymous donors. He knew that she wouldn’t have resented him for it. Then he wouldn’t have gotten to see the real her; he’d overlooked all those years. He’d learned of her brilliance that she’d often dimmed for the undeserving men who had done their best to try to break her. He’d learned of her kindness and loving heart, even extended to people who didn’t deserve it. He’d learned her body now, and couldn’t help but imagine how it would have been to conceive this baby traditionally.

He wouldn’t call it love. He was not a green boy who believed in love at first sight and knew that some of Sansa’s edges had been hardened by life to believe in that anymore. But he knew he was standing at the edge of a precipice and wouldn’t need much of a push to jump willingly.

His grand plans of stepping away from Sansa’s orbit were quickly dismantled by a delivery mistake. The company had sent the bassinet to his place. Despite his protests, the delivery guy simply said that his instructions were to get the package from the store to the address in the order, so what happened after wasn’t his responsibility.

He texted Sansa, and once he confirmed she was home, he called his boss, requested some of his PTO and pulled up at Sansa’s with the big box.

It took some maneuvering with one of her neighbors, but they got the bassinet upstairs to the nursery. After the man left, he and Sansa stood up awkwardly, both remembering what had transpired between them 48 hours ago, but he tucked his feelings away and started unpacking the contents of the box.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m assembling the bassinet. That way it’ll be ready by the time you have the baby.”

She looked disoriented for a moment, but just nodded briefly and left the room. He’d brought his own set of tools and welcomed the distraction. He’d set this up, clean up, and leave. Simple enough. Dutchess walked in at some point, but after seeing that Jon wasn’t going to pay her attention, she plopped on one of the carpets and fell asleep.

Sansa returned some 15 minutes later with a glass of water and a muffin. He knew enough of Sansa to know that she baked when she had too much on her mind, and wondered briefly if she’d been plagued with thoughts of messy, unrequited feelings as he did.

“Thank you,” was all he said. However, his respite was brief, as she sat in the armchair to observe him rather than leave again, so he ate a chunk of the muffin and continued working in silence.

He picked up his things after the bassinet was assembled and excused himself to wash his hands. He’d hoped that Sansa would have gone downstairs, but instead was waiting for him right outside, looking more chipper than she had an hour ago.

“The bassinet is lovely, and you didn’t have to do all this. I would’ve sent one of the boys to pick it up. So, thank you, Jon.”

It was easy to return her warm smile. “I don’t trust them with any tools. At least I can feel assured it’s properly set up.”

“I agree.”

He should’ve taken this out and left. Instead, he asked, “So, how have you been feeling?”

She was quick to understand what he meant. “It was good for one night, but my body feels more restless now.” She looked up and kept eye contact. “Almost like it’s asking for more.”

He closed the distance between them and leaned down to kiss her, which she eagerly reciprocated. They stumbled into her bedroom, but he placed her carefully on her bed, where she didn’t waste any time removing the lounge set she was wearing, and he followed her lead.

He was surprised when he finished taking off his pants to see that Sansa was fully naked this time. He gaped openly at her, and before she could express any regret, he captured her lips again and proceeded to kiss every inch of her body. 

He didn’t mind at all paying extra attention to her full breasts, kissing and licking and teasing her nipples, until he heard her peaking just from that.

Sansa took control after that, making him lie against her headboard and sink on his hardened cock. She rode him with confidence; he was happy to steady her hips and lavish her tits with his mouth and hands. She started rocking faster, and his hand slid between their bodies to rub on her swollen clit.

It didn’t take much longer for her to cum, and he memorized the image of Sansa lost in her pleasure, as her body arched and she screamed his name. However, the position didn’t give him much chance to pull out, and he lost control as Sansa pulsed around his cock and she moaned, “Yes, Jon… fill me… fill me with your cum…”

“Fuck!”

Sansa stayed on his lap for some minutes as they both caught their breath. Her head was nestled in the crook of his neck, and he felt her press light kisses on his neck and shoulders. She finally stood up, and he tried but failed not to stare at the sight of his seed spilling out of her.

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” she said, covering herself with the sheets.

“Right. I only took the morning off, so I should be heading out,” he replied.

He thought he saw a flicker of disappointment in her face, but she returned to a neutral mask right away. “Of course. If you want to use the bathroom before you leave…?”

“I’ll use the one in the hallway.” Not wanting to leave so abruptly, he stepped closer and pressed a kiss on her forehead. He lingered for a couple of seconds before breaking away. “Yeah, ok,” and stepped out of the room.

He spent the rest of his day going over the morning’s events. He wouldn’t say anyone was at fault, but she had definitely been the one to initiate things, right?

Jon didn’t have any hormones to blame, but the situation was doing a number on his head, so he figured that the best course of action was to get some space between him and Sansa. He spent the next two weeks in Queenscrown as they wrapped up the first phase of the residential complex they were building, and resisted sending her an update about this. 

He and the guys at work had planned on celebrating when he returned; however, he wasn’t counting on his abysmal mood thanks to Robb, who thought he’d be interested in learning that Catelyn was already making a mental list of ‘prospects’ who ‘wouldn’t be put off by Sansa’s status.’

He was barely in the mood to go out that Friday night, but pushed through because the guys were actually excited about it, despite their plans simply being to go to the pub, and Arya had invited herself because she hadn’t seen him in almost three weeks.

Arya had easy banter with Edd, Grenn and Pyp, so he was happy to let her take the burden of socializing as he swapped his usual beer pints for straight liquor and brooded on one end of their booth.

“Whoa, you might want to slow down on that, Snow,” Edd told him. His reply was to down the rest of his glass.

He just couldn’t stop thinking about how fucked everything was. Sansa was having a daughter, his daughter in a matter of weeks, and he’d have to sit back and watch her build a life apart from him. He might throw up the day he saw their daughter call another man ‘dad.’

“Dude, are you sure you’re okay?” he heard Arya ask, and he cackled hysterically.

“Fuck!” he said in between laughs, “I’m having a baby, can you believe this?” Everyone looked at him with varying degrees of confusion or worry. 

But of course, they had no fucking clue! He and Sansa had fooled the world!

He snorted. “Well, it’s not really my baby, so no need to look so fucking pissy for not telling you.”

“What?” one of the guys asked, but he paid them no mind.

Next to him, Arya looked like she was solving a riddle, muttering under her breath what he just said. He didn’t know what he had said that was so confusing. Suddenly, she gasped dramatically, almost jumping out of her seat and turned her entire body to face him.

“Are you Sansa’s donor?!” she basically yelled, attracting a lot of looks from people around them.

“That would be me!” he slurred, and took another sip of his whiskey.

“Mother, Maiden, Crone… holy fuck! Shit, what were you and Sansa thinking?”

“That we would make cute babies.”

“Um, what’s happening? Who’s Sansa?” asked Pyp.

“My sister–” “The woman I love–” he and Arya replied at the same time. When he saw Arya’s look of horror, he tacked on a “Maybe!”

He laughed some more, looking at her, but turned to Pyp and said, “She’s so fucking pretty, Pyp. I hope our baby looks like her.”

Edd stood up and took Jon’s glass away from him. “Alright, I think it’s time to call it a night, and the babydaddy should sleep this one off,” he said as he pulled some cash out of his wallet and put it on the table. “Little wolf, you might want to keep him away from your sister and his cellphone, in case he wants to make any sudden declarations.”

Grenn asked quietly, “Should we send your sister a gift for the baby?” but was met with Arya’s glare and held his hands in the air. “I was just curious.”

They got Jon inside an Uber between the four of them, and the driver muttered angrily that Jon better not throw up in his car. Arya’s place was nearby, and Gendry was waiting for them downstairs by the time they arrived.

He carried Jon with ease to his apartment, and at least Jon had the decency to run to the bathroom to throw up as soon as they were inside. He threw up a second time, and then she heard the sink running. Jon walked out a few minutes later, his face still sort of wet and only in his undershirt. He looked like shit.

He stumbled to their sofa, where he struggled to take his shoes off, but succeeded and plopped down coincidentally in one of the cushions Sansa had bought for them. She didn’t think that fun fact would be appreciated right now.

“You gotta take this, man,” she said as she handed him a glass of water. He drank most of it, at least.

Her head was spinning at the night’s revelations, and she was still aghast at the fact that Jon and Sansa had thought this wouldn’t result in a huge mess. Because looking at Jon, Arya was almost certain that Sansa wasn’t faring better; she was just better at self-denial.

Fuck, I should’ve stayed home, she thought. This isn’t my circus, but unfortunately, I know these monkeys.

“Rough night?” asked Gendry.

“You have no idea.”

Margaery was visiting again, and Sansa had made plans with her after her doctor’s appointment. Truthfully, she was in no mood and just wanted to head home and lie down, but her friend wouldn’t be visiting again for the next couple of months, and Sansa knew she would feel guilty if she blew Marg off, even if it would be perfectly understandable in her condition.

She was already waiting for Sansa by the time she arrived, but did not comment. 

Sansa was thankful that Margaery was happy to talk about anything other than the baby and her pregnancy. She desperately needed the distraction, even if she really disliked some of the work she did as a top PR agent for certain industry moguls and politicians.

Her friendship with Margaery was a bit more complicated than most of her other friendships. They’d met at KLU, when Sansa found out that she was dating her ex-boyfriend, Joffrey. He was a terrible guy, and she’d failed the classes they shared because she was so afraid of running into him. She wished someone had warned her about Joffrey, so when she found out who Margaery was, she went up to her and told her as much as she could, even if she probably looked hysterical to anyone looking. 

Margaery found her some months later, after she’d broken things with Joffrey and thanked her, even if things never got as bad with her as they did with Sansa. Margaery’s family made sure that their report on Joffrey to the dean wasn’t ignored like Sansa’s was.

They kept in contact after Sansa’s transfer to Valetown, but Sansa had never been able to lower all her defenses toward Margaery, despite all the years.

“Oh, I almost forgot I meant to ask you about the guy who bought you the bassinet,” Margaery said with interest. That was new.

“Jon?”

“Yes! So, what’s his status?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is he married, single, divorced…?” she replied, as if it were obvious.

There was a pit of dread settling on Sansa’s stomach, and she was sure it wasn’t reflux.

“He’s single. Why?”

Margaery gave her a look she could only describe as condescending.

“I’m interested,” she simply announced, as if it were a done deal already.

“Why?”

“He’s handsome. You told me he has a good job and seems like a serious man–”

“He’s not the kind of guy who does meaningless hookups, Margie,” she blurted. “He’s someone who cares about serious relationships.” 

She realized that she was being a huge hypocrite, given that she had hooked up with Jon twice now, and she’d run away from any kind of meaningful conversation with him. She didn’t even want to consider that this might not have meant anything to him.

“I could care with the right man. Maybe I finally want to settle down!”

“I’m serious, Jon is off-limits. You know I didn’t care when you and Robb were hooking up, because neither of you was looking for anything serious, but Jon isn’t like that.”

Margaery seemed unfazed by Sansa’s rebuttal and instead focused on the new information before her. “Alright, Sans. I won’t capture Jon in my claws, you have my word.” 

Sansa held herself for the rest of whatever Margaery was about to say, and she had a feeling she wouldn’t like it.

“I do recommend you sort this out before the baby arrives. Things could get messy.”

Sansa was in a rotten mood as she drove back home, and it wasn’t just from the conversation she’d had with Margaery. The baby kept kicking her ribs; she’d had a headache for basically weeks from lack of sleep, her back hurt, and on top of all that, she had to pee again.

Of course, Margaery had sussed out that she had feelings for Jon within an hour of conversation. She could only thank the Crone that they’d managed to keep their hookups a secret so far; she didn’t need to feel more foolish than she already did.

She was surprised when she parked and made her way back home to find Arya sitting on her stoop despite the weather.

“Did we make plans?” she asked her sister as she went up the stairs. She was getting some pregnancy brain, but she was sure she’d remember something like this.

When Arya didn’t reply, she just told her to hold on and headed to the bathroom to relieve herself. She found her sister waiting for her outside the door, looking upset.

“Is anything the matter? Just so you know, I had a shitty lunch with Margaery, so I’m not in the mood,” Sansa told Arya as she went to the kitchen to fill her water bottle. She groaned as she felt a wave of Braxton-Hicks contractions hit her. 

Arya was right at her side, rubbing her hand up and down her spine. She’d had these for the past couple of months, but her sister still looked mildly concerned. “I just wanted to check on you. You had a doctor’s appointment today, right?” 

“Yeah,” she started saying as she waddled to the living room. “She told me the baby dropped, which means I’m going to be peeing even more, if you can believe it.” She sat on her couch and propped her legs up on one of the armrests to help reduce the swelling in her ankles.

“What does that mean?”

“The baby is no longer under my ribs and has moved down to my pelvis to start getting into position for delivery. So, I can breathe easier, but she’s pressing my bladder more.”

“But you’re still not having the baby, right?”

“Six more weeks,” she whined. 

Arya had intended to confront Sansa about Jon, but she looked so miserable that she backed away from her plans. 

Jon had been horrified the morning after their outing once he woke up and remembered what he had said. He’d begged her not to say anything, since he and Sansa had agreed on discretion. He insisted that it had been his choice, and Sansa didn’t force him to do anything. She reluctantly agreed, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t bothered by this entire ordeal.

Sansa could be selfish. She could be cruel sometimes. Both inadvertently and on purpose, but Arya had never imagined she could ever think of doing something like this.

So, direct confrontation was discarded, but she’d just gotten an idea…

“I met with Jon last week,” she started.

“Oh? He’s back from Queenscrown?” Sansa replied while looking at her phone and trying to sound indifferent. Hook.

“Yep. He might get that promotion he’s been talking about for some time.” 

“Good for him! It’s been a few years, right?” Line.

“His old boss, Thorne, really had it for him, but he’s out, and the director might want him in a permanent position there. Or was it the Eastwatch office?”

“Jon is moving?!” Sansa asked, suddenly fully interested in what Arya was saying and losing her cool façade. And sinker.

“It’s not certain yet, but he sounded really excited. He even mentioned that he’s thinking of reconnecting with Val since he’ll be far north again.”

She didn’t think Sansa was even aware of how her face looked like she’d swallowed a raw lemon. She stayed silent for some minutes, and there was a moisture in her eyes that wasn’t there before.

“He’s certainly worked hard for this,” she said eventually. “Does someone else know?”

“He and Robb have been texting about it, and I think Rickon was there when Robb found out. And Jon’s friend Sam, of course, and the other guys at work.”

“So everyone knew but me. Nice.” She stood up and started walking to the kitchen, barely paying attention to Arya following her. But she knew she was because she kept talking, “Of course, why would he tell me anything? I mean, we’re barely even friends. If you hadn’t told me, I might not have even noticed until he was already there!” she finished saying, more affected than Arya expected.

Sansa opened her cooler, took out a pint of vanilla ice cream, and served herself a bowl. She then added a handful of olive oil and a pinch of salt and sat on one of the counter stools and started eating without saying another word to Arya.

She hadn’t thought she’d upset Sansa like that, but she got the answers she was looking for.

Sansa looked up and saw her staring at her, and asked, exasperated, “What?”

“Nothing.” And now we wait.

Sansa tried her damnest not to think about Jon for the following days. She focused on the pregnancy-related things instead since she only had a month to go. She got her Group B strep test, which thankfully was negative, but her baby was breech, so her doctor had to do a small procedure to help the baby turn to a head-down position.

She had her hospital bag ready, had her mom check for anything missing, and then had Jeyne inspect it again to be certain.

She was grateful that Bran was staying with her during those last weeks, to make sure she had help when she went into labor, since she hadn’t wanted to stay back at her parents’ place again. It had been an easy concession; she didn’t want to be alone.

However, now that she was in the last stretch of her pregnancy and was spending a lot of time lying down with her own thoughts for company, it wasn’t her body just making her miserable.

She hadn’t spoken to Jon in almost eight weeks, and for what? They’d slept together twice, he semi-ghosted her, and she’d had to find out he was moving as far away from their city as possible. Was there any other way she could interpret things?

At least any time she felt like shit, she could blame it on the pregnancy and no one would question her.

“I want to stop being pregnant now,” she cried to her mother one afternoon while she was visiting. “Does that make me awful?”

“Oh, sweetling. Every new mother has had that thought at some point. Trust me, no one would judge you.”

“I can’t believe there are still three weeks left. I feel like I’ve been pregnant forever!”

“You’ll look back on these days once you have a newborn to take care of.”

Sansa threw her head back and groaned. Logic was not her friend at the moment.

Sansa had agreed to attend the little get-together Jeyne had decided to organize some days ago, since Elric and Jocelyn were spending the weekend at their grandmother’s place and she wanted to spend a full evening with adults for a change. Her sister-in-law had managed to convince her, given that she wouldn’t be able to leave her house soon and would only be dealing with a baby. 

For some reason, it escaped her mind that Jon would be there.

He looked as shocked as she felt when he opened the door, but she hoped it didn’t show on her face and kept her glare in place.

“Sansa! I–”

She cut him off. “Can I come in?” she replied, since he was still blocking the door. He stepped away, and she walked inside without giving him a second look.

She felt relieved that the group was somewhat large, and she spent a large portion of the evening catching up with some of Jeyne’s friends she hadn’t seen in some time and felt excited to talk to other moms who were eager to give her new advice and did their best to reassure her.

She’d stepped into the kitchen after another bathroom run when she saw Jon’s reflection on the oven door. She tried to circle the kitchen island without saying anything, but before she could leave, he asked, “Are you avoiding me?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, am I?”

“Listen, I know I didn’t handle things well and we should’ve talked before–”

“Before what, Jon?” She’d been holding it in, but she was fully irritated now. “Before my crazy pregnancy hormones made me get clingy? Is that what was worrying you?” 

It had taken her some days after Arya’s reveal to reach a conclusion, and she hadn’t liked it. She and Jon had slept together, and arguably, both times had been her fault. The first time, she could blame her lack of filter thanks to her pregnancy. But the second time, she was fully aiming to get Jon back into her bed, only to realize once the horny fog had lifted that Jon had probably run away from her as far as he could to make it clear he wanted nothing to do with her or the baby he’d never intended to have.

Honestly, she couldn’t even fault him for leaving anymore. That didn’t mean she wasn’t emotional over it.

His eyes got big before he frowned again. “What? No!”

“I know when I’m not wanted, Jon!” she whispered with fury, not wishing to attract curious ears. “We signed an agreement for a reason; trust me, you don’t have to worry about it.”

He flinched, but she wouldn’t feel bad about it. She already had enough to deal with.

“Besides, Arya’s told me all about it.”

He paled and seemed to freeze for some moments before reacting again.

“She told you what, Sansa?” Why was he playing dumb?

“Was I supposed never to find out?” she asked tartly. “I understand why you told Arya and Robb, but honestly, I think I deserved at least a courtesy warning.”

He looked confused now, which only made her feel more irritated.

“What does Robb have to do with anything?”

“Didn’t you get that promotion at work? Or was I supposed to find out after you sent a postcard from Eastwatch or Queenscrown or wherever you’re running off to?”

He didn’t look panicked anymore, which only made her madder since she probably looked like a hysterical pregnant woman right now. She needed to leave.

“Sansa, wait, please! I feel like we’re having two different conversations.” She rolled her eyes, but stayed in place. “I did get promoted, but I’ll only have to go to Queenscrown quarterly. I’m not moving there.”

“Why would Arya tell me that then?”

He hesitated for a moment, and if she hadn’t been looking at him so intensely, she would’ve missed it. This only reaffirmed her suspicions that he wasn’t being entirely truthful to her.

“I don’t know. Maybe she misunderstood.”

She wanted to yell at him that Arya would never be so nonchalant about her best friend moving six hours away, but bit her tongue. This was useless.

“Whatever, Jon.” 

She was suddenly rescued by Jeyne walking into the kitchen at that moment, and she took her chance. “Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked her sister-in-law.

“Everything is under control. Seriously, Sansa. You should be resting! Go sit.” 

Jon couldn’t make sense of what had just happened. He’d panicked, thinking that Arya had told Sansa about his drunken confessions, but that wasn’t the case, to his relief. The younger Stark had clearly set them up for something, but he couldn’t understand what exactly she wanted to accomplish. 

Fuck, he couldn’t even corner Arya right now because she’d caught a stomach bug and had skipped Jeyne’s dinner, and he was certain any text messages he sent right now would go unanswered for the next couple of hours.

Sansa, on her part, expertly ignored him for the rest of the evening, with enough smoothness not to make things awkward, and when she left, no one batted an eye at her not saying goodbye to him.

On his way home, he decided not to ask Arya what the hell was going on, since he guessed that’s what she wanted. Instead, he’d go directly to the source and clear the air with Sansa– a wiser choice, considering this mess was between the two of them. Besides, he could probably bet that Sansa wouldn’t be too happy he was discussing their private life with her younger sister, who reveled in learning other people’s secrets and using them to her advantage.

He steeled himself and made his way to Sansa’s house a few days after Jeyne’s dinner party. He rang the doorbell and couldn’t hide his shock when the willowy figure of Bran Stark opened the door. The younger man simply looked amused instead.

“Bran!” he barked before regaining his cool. “Hi. I was wondering if I could talk to Sansa about something. Is she home?”

“Yeah, she’s taking a shower. Come in.”

Okay, Bran didn’t look like he wanted to strangle him, so he felt a bit more confident about this plan. 

“How’s everything going?” he asked as he looked around and noticed the house wasn’t as spotless as Sansa would’ve liked. He noticed that Bran had set up his station in the dining room, not just by the laptop and second monitor plugged in, but the cans of energy drinks and empty snack bags on the table were also a dead giveaway.

“Don’t judge,” Bran said as if reading his thoughts. “I’ll clean it up, I promise.”

He sent Bran a non-impressed look, looked for a trash bag in the kitchen, and picked up the trash that had accumulated over the past few days. He found Sansa’s Roomba vacuum cleaner, set it to clean the downstairs floor, and then started wiping down any surfaces that looked like they needed it.

“You’re making me look bad,” Bran said with no bite, but joined him in tidying up the house.

Jon saw a chance now that they were both distracted by cleaning. “Bran, I wanted to ask— has Sansa said anything about me? She was upset with me when we were at Robb and Jeyne’s, but if she’s mentioned anything…”

“Are you asking me to snitch on my sister?”

“What? No! I just— if I had a clue about what I did—” He heard Bran sniggering next to him and shook his head, laughing too.

“You should’ve seen your face right now. But no, Sansa hasn’t told me why she’s so pissed at you.”

“So she is pissed.”

Bran shrugged. “Is it about the baby?”

“Do you know about that?” he asked worriedly. Bran looked puzzled for a minute, until understanding spread on his face, and he looked at Jon as if seeing him for the first time.

“You’re the donor,” he whispered.

Maybe Jon should consider moving to Eastwatch, seeing that he’s managed to spill Sansa’s big secret to two of her siblings already. She should actually be more pissed at him.

He must’ve made a face, because Bran quickly added, “Don’t worry, I won’t say a thing unless she does.”

They sat in an awkward silence after they finished tidying up until he heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and he bolted to the kitchen under the pretense of getting some water.

He heard the delight in her voice when she asked, “Bran, did you clean?” 

“I can’t take the credit for that,” he replied, signaling with his head to where Jon was standing.

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t look upset, just surprised. “Jon.” She gave him a small smile and went over to an Eames Lounge Chair that definitely wasn’t there the last time he visited. “This is normally in my office. I asked Bran to move it here, since it’s the most comfortable chair in the house,” she answered, noticing his confusion.

He sat on the sofa next to her and they stared at each other in silence for some minutes, until Bran spoke up to say, “I was actually planning on going to the movies today. I’ll leave you guys to it.” He kissed Sansa on the head before grabbing his coat and heading out, leaving him and Sansa with no choice but to talk to each other.

“I’m sorry for acting crazy on you last Friday, Jon. You don’t really owe me any explanations about your private life,” she said calmly.

“Sansa, it’s fine, I get it. I would’ve been hurt too if I thought you were leaving without saying goodbye.”

She sighed and gave him a tight smile. “It’s not just that, Jon.” She suddenly looked so tired that it made his heart ache. “I told you, I’m aware I’m not entitled to know what you do with your life, and yet I was acting as I did. I was being unreasonable, acting like I’d been personally slighted and you were running away from me, when you have every right to do what you please. After all, isn’t that why I asked you to be my donor? You live your life, and I live mine?”

He didn’t think he’d get a better chance to explain himself than this, so he took a fortifying breath and told her, “I don’t think my life will ever not be intertwined with yours anymore, Sansa. You thought I was a pragmatic man, but you were wrong. I did back away from you because I realized I wanted more from you than what we’d agreed on, and I didn’t want to burden you with that.”

“Really, Jon?” She didn’t sound annoyed or outraged, so he looked up and saw her face brightening.

“Yes.” Her reaction made him feel braver. “I think I’ve wanted to do this whole thing with you from the moment I agreed to do it. I’ve never not thought of the baby as my child as well,” he confessed.

“Oh, Jon,” she said as she wiped some errant tears. “Are you sure about this? I can’t ask you to care for a child you didn’t plan on having.”

“You’re not asking. I want to do this. I nearly made myself sick thinking of our baby calling someone else dad.” That made her laugh, and he felt a sudden rush of fondness. She was so lovely. “We don’t need to have all the answers right now. All I know is that I care so much about you, Sansa; I want to spend as much time as I can showing you my love.”

Sansa was fully blushing now, but she had a deeply satisfied grin on her face. The look she gave him nearly made him melt.

“Help me up,” she told him, and as soon as she stood up, she pulled him close to her for a tender kiss. Or at least as close as her bump allowed.

He smiled into the kiss. “We’ve been doing everything backwards, haven’t we?” he teased her.

“Oh, shut up,” she shut him up with another kiss.

They kissed on her sofa for a while, until they moved to her bedroom to spend the rest of the afternoon lazily kissing. It was a peek into a life he hadn’t thought would be within his fingertips just a few hours ago.

She’d gotten up to use the bathroom, and when she returned, she was chuckling.

“You realize that Arya set us up, right?”

His hands went to his face as he groaned. “That might be my fault, actually.” He hoped she wasn’t too mad. “I got drunk a few weeks ago and apparently babbled.”

She looked more amused than anything, so he’d take that as a win. “No wonder she was taunting me so much about you moving and getting back together with Val.”

“You were jealous?” he asked delightedly. She rolled her eyes and tried to stand up again, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the pillows where he was reclining. “That day I got drunk. It was actually because Robb kept rambling about potential men your mother thought you could date.”

She groaned into his chest. “So you’re saying you saved me from a new round of Catelyn Tully’s Matchmaking Services?”

“I wouldn’t call myself a hero but…”

She grabbed one of her tiny cushions and hit him in the face with it. “Gods, shut up. I can’t believe I like you so much.”

His grin nearly split his face, but he couldn’t help it. Things like this rarely happened to him, but here he was, the woman he was certain he was in love with in his arms and a child on the way. He knew Sansa would like a super romantic proposal, but he’d have time to think of an idea. First, he had to take her on a date.

Sansa could’ve cried when the 40th week of pregnancy rolled around, and she still hadn’t gone into labor.

Her doctor had told her that this was usual with first-time moms, but that wasn’t exactly comforting, and she just wanted to stop being pregnant already. She’d even considered asking Jon to have sex with her again, since she’d read that sex sometimes induced labor, but she wasn’t sure that would be pleasurable at all for her this time. But at least she and Jon were finally on the same page, and the next time they were together she wouldn’t be a bundle of nerves, wondering what everything meant.

They’d decided to keep the new developments to themselves, since she had no idea how to break the news to her parents and Robb about not only her being with Jon now, but the fact that he was the father of her child. Bran knew, of course, since he was Sansa’s temporary roommate, but they could count on his very smug discretion. She’d told Jeyne as well; keeping this secret for months had been eating at her, and given that she was to be the baby’s godmother, she thought it reasonable to tell her.

Her friend had nearly combusted once she was done retelling the whole story.

She squealed like a little girl every time she remembered that Jon would be with her now, helping to raise their daughter. Yes, she knew she needed to stay realistic; after all, they had never been in a relationship before, and it might end badly, but what if it didn’t? What if fate had conjured up the most freakishly complicated way to get them together, and she could have her happy ending?

But regardless of what happened, he’d be a wonderful father to their little girl. Oh, she cried when he came up one day with a bag full of baby clothes he’d been buying for months, only because they were cute. And the wonder on his face when he felt the baby kicking for the first time! She wouldn’t be surprised if the rush she felt whenever she thought of Jon would end up sending her into labor.

She went to her weekly checkup with her doctor, who told her that they’d induce the birth at the beginning of next week if it still hadn’t happened naturally. Despite her frustration, having a date set in stone made her feel calmer, so she focused on that.

As fate would have it, she woke up around 5:00 am the next day to use the bathroom when she felt the first wave of pain hit her. She stood up from the toilet carefully, but the pain remained, and she felt it radiate to her lower back and legs.

She moved back to the bed and had her phone ready to time it when she felt the pain again, half an hour later. 45 seconds. This happened three more times over the course of nearly two hours, with the pain increasing each time. Dutchess had jumped on her bed at some point and kept cuddling her, as if she knew Sansa was in pain.

By the time the contractions were coming every 20 minutes, she called her doctor.

“Hi, good morning, Brienne. I think I’m in labor.”

“Good morning, Sansa. Tell me what you’ve been feeling.”

“They started around 5:00 this morning. I got up to poop when I felt the first one. They were coming every 30 minutes, for 45 seconds. Now they’re coming every twenty minutes.”

“You told me you’d already expelled your mucus plug, right?”

“Yes, last week.”

“Has there been any bleeding?”

“Yes, I noticed my discharge was reddish last night.”

“Wonderful. Sansa, everything indicates you’re in early labor. You’ll have to wait until the contractions are closer so the hospital can admit you, but we’ll be on the alert during the day. Does that sound alright to you?”

“Yes.”

“You have someone with you to help you get to the hospital?”

“Yes, my brother is here, but I’ll call my mom too.”

“You do that, Sansa. Do you remember the 5-1-1 rule I told you about?”

“If the contractions come every five minutes and last about one minute for at least one hour, it’s time to go to the hospital.”

“Exactly. Call me if you feel there’s anything wrong, alright, Sansa?”

She hung up and waited in bed until the next contraction came. She pooped again, which should’ve felt like a relief after weeks of constipation, but all she hoped was that her bowels remained empty and she didn’t have any gross accidents while she gave birth.

She took a hot shower and called her mom, who arrived less than twenty minutes later, made Sansa some oatmeal for breakfast, and gave her a massage as the pain of the contractions increased.

She decided to wait downstairs because she was sure the pain would make it too difficult to go down the stairs in a few hours, and she distracted herself with a tennis tournament on TV. Maybe the baby will be a tennis player, she thought with amusement.

Her mother sprang into action around 2:00 pm.

“Bran, we’re leaving. Get the car ready. Sweetheart, where is your hospital bag?”

“In the nursery,” she said in between breaths. Everything hurt.

They waited until the next contraction was over to walk her to the car, and since Bran had memorized the fastest route to the hospital, over various test drives to see how long it took to get there from Sansa’s house, they were there in under fifteen minutes.

“Sansa, do you want an epidural?” her mother asked once they were wheeling her to the maternity ward, to which she nodded, not trusting that a cry wouldn’t be the only thing to come out of her mouth.

Dr. Tarth walked into her room a little after she started feeling the effects of the epidural, so at least she could answer the doctor’s questions. Brienne told her she was 8 cm dilated, so she still had to wait some more to deliver the baby.

Her mother updated her: her father had taken the afternoon off and was on his way; Robb was at court today, so he’d come by later, but Jeyne was coming after the babysitter arrived; Arya was also on her way, and Rickon had literally started an internship two weeks earlier, so he had to stay until the end of the workday.

She snapped a picture of herself, well, more like her bump, and sent it to Jon, who replied much faster than she expected.

Jon: Which hospital are you at?

Sansa: Torrhen General

Sansa: I’ll ask Bran to add you to the visitor list

Jon: I’ll be there as soon as I can.

Rickon and Arya arrived together, since she picked him up from his internship, after using her as an excuse to leave early. Her father arrived about half an hour later with some lemon cakes for her from Nan’s Bakery, and she almost cried from how sweet the gesture was.

Brienne had told her that she was close to 10 cm on her next checkup and she’d probably start the delivery process within the next hour.

When Jon finally arrived, he looked panicked, but visibly exhaled when he saw her on the hospital bed. With two long strides, he closed the gap between the door and her bed, and before she realized what was happening, he was softly holding her face in his hands and kissing her. 

“I thought I’d missed it.”

“Trust me, she’s in no rush,” she replied with a sweet smile as she basked in his loving gaze.

They heard someone clearing their throat, and he realized they had an audience. He’d been so focused on Sansa, he didn’t even take note of the rest of the Starks in the room.

Catelyn was the first to unfreeze. “Since when has this been going on?”

“Some months, if we’re being honest. But it’s all very recent,” she replied.

She exchanged a brief look with Jon, silently asking him if it was okay with him to let her family know the rest of the details, and he gave her a quick nod with a coy smile. Better to get this over with.

“This might be the best time to let you know that Jon was my donor.” Straight to the point.

She heard Arya snort.

“Excuse me?” “Sweetheart, you might have to elaborate on this,” her parents spoke over each other. All Rickon did was grin manically at Jon, and even Bran was holding down a laugh.

“I asked Jon if he would consider being my donor last year. We’ve gotten closer in the months since, as you can see. That’s the abridged version.”

“And do you still plan to raise your daughter as your own, Sansa?” her mother asked, more harshly than she had expected.

Jon was the one to reply. “I intend to be there and provide for my family, Ms. Stark. I meant to respect Sansa’s wishes for as long as she wanted. Our plans have changed, but my purpose is the same: to be what Sansa needs me to be. And I’ll be a good partner and father to them; you can have my word.”

His words were purposeful and conveyed with such sincerity that everyone in the room couldn’t help but be moved by his devotion. 

Catelyn’s gaze softened, but her reply was a firm, “See that you do.”

Ned, on the other hand, couldn’t hide how pleased he was with this turn of events. “You’ll be wonderful parents, the two of you.” He’d always been open about his affection for the young boy who had befriended his eldest son all those years ago, and knew he’d grown to be a good man. If he had any subtlety about such matters, he would’ve probably tried to set him and Sansa up a long time ago.

“Can I be there when you tell Robb?” Rickon asked excitedly.

She was spared any further questions when Dr. Tarth and a nurse returned to check the extent of her dilation. Everyone except her mother left the room, and once they confirmed she had reached 10 cm, they quickly went into action.

“Would you like Jon here, Sansa?” Catelyn asked, but she shook her head no. Truthfully, she didn’t want Jon to see her like that, and her mother would do more to calm her nerves.

Nothing she researched could’ve accurately prepared her for the pain of childbirth, but she pushed through, literally and figuratively, and in the end, it was all worth it when they put her little girl in her arms.

Her small head was full of auburn hair, closer to Catelyn’s color than Sansa’s, and she guessed that it would probably darken with time. She couldn’t stop staring at her cute button nose and her rosebud-shaped mouth, and feeling her soft skin. She was perfect.

She let the nurses take her as she pushed the placenta out, and then let her mother make her look presentable, wiping the sweat from her face with a damp towel, brushing her hair into a braid, and handing Sansa a colored lip balm to disguise how pale she looked.

They let visitors come in a little after that. Jon entered cautiously behind her father, with a look of wonder on his face, and stopped in his tracks when he finally saw her. 

“Come meet your daughter,” she whispered.

A nurse had already prepared him, and he was wearing a hospital robe above his clothes and a scrub cap. He sat on the chair next to her bed, and Catelyn helped move the baby from Sansa’s arms to Jon’s.

He was looking at her like she was the first baby he’d ever seen, making a noise that was half-laugh and half-cry. Honestly, Sansa understood him perfectly.

“Does she have a name yet?”

Sansa had been compiling a list of names for a long time, but hadn’t been able to decide on one so far, with the justification that they were all names she liked. She had also felt a bit guilty about not consulting Jon at all, but kept telling herself that he’d come into the picture far too late to have a say in this, not after all the long months agonizing about choosing a name.

And well, she knew that Jon would be graceful about it.

“She felt like Sybelle to me when I first held her.”

“I love it. Our lovely Sybelle Stark,” he said with amazement.

That made her pause, and she or one of her parents must’ve made a noise, because he looked up and realized what he’d just said.

“I didn’t want to presume…”

She reached out and placed a hand on his cheek. He leaned into the touch like a kitten.

“We’ll figure it out.” Right now, all her focus was on her sweet daughter.

Little by little, the rest of the Starks came in to meet the newest member of the family. Jeyne had brought her camera and took some portraits of Sansa and Sybelle, and then asked Jon to sit next to mother and daughter to get a full family portrait.

It was like that that Robb found them when he walked into the room, and once they explained the situation to him, he asked Jon to talk to him outside for a moment.

“I’ll make sure Robb doesn’t kill Jon,” Rickon muttered as he slipped outside to snoop into the conversation. But Robb could be a hothead sometimes, so maybe it was a good precaution to have someone there to stop him if he tried to do anything stupid.

They came back a few minutes later, both unharmed, but with stern faces. At least that was until Robb held his niece and beamed at her, and Sansa let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. She wanted this to be a happy occasion!

The visitors scampered out some hours later to let the new family rest. Jon watched with fascination as one of the nurses helped Sansa nurse Sybelle. Once the baby latched onto her mother’s nipple and started feeding, they finally had a moment to themselves.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Sore and tired. If I had any reason to be standing, I would’ve fallen all over.”

“I would have caught you.” She rolled her eyes fondly, but didn’t hide the pleased smile that graced her face.

“What did Robb say to you?”

He was a bit surprised by her question, but not uneasy. “He just wanted to make sure that we were both on the same page about this, you know? Confirm that no one was forced into anything, that sort of thing.”

She hummed, relieved that Robb didn’t go overboard with his ‘big brother’ act. 

A milk-drunk Sybelle detached herself from Sansa’s breast after a little while, and Jon moved her to her bassinet to let her sleep. He kept staring at her with amazement.

He chuckled to himself suddenly, and when she looked up at him to see what was so amusing, she found him already looking at her.

“You know, I was right,” he said smugly as he walked up to her bed and put an arm around her as he sat down. “We made a pretty cute baby.”