The Mother

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Sansa stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her long white dress almost reached the floor, but didn't cover her bare feet.

It could no longer cover her swollen belly either.

Tenderly her hands caressed the growing bump and a smile spread across her lips while the tiniest of movement tickled her.

Maybe the baby was a little sword fighter to be, already practicing the skills inherited from the father. Or maybe the baby was not too fond of being locked up inside a dark place, like the aunt. Or probably the baby would be like her and simply longed for the mother to read a story or sing a song.

Jon was counting the days until the baby would be born. He was preparing the nursery, most of the times following her exact instructions but sometimes simply ignoring them. And every night he whispered a few names in her ear, although none of his suggestions had actually been great so far.

Sansa was glad that for now the baby was still with her, safe and protected from the outside world and its horrors. And no matter how busy Jon was with being a king and ruling Westeros, Sansa never felt lonely with their child so close to her heart.

"Are you admiring yourself again?" Jon entered their shared bedroom and closed the door behind him. Years had passed ever since he had reluctantly accepted the crown and the iron throne and now he looked like a true king, like the true king he had always been already.

"Not just myself." Sansa protested and turned to face him. "I'm admiring our child too."

Jon grinned. "I'm sure the child will be just as pretty as you are." He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. "I've got one more meeting this afternoon, but tonight we can have dinner together and then I can come with you for your evening walk, if you want me to?"

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Are you now seriously asking me if you can accompany me?" She placed her flat hands on his chest. "As if I don't have enough time for myself already!"

"You never know." Jon shrugged. "You might have gotten used to my absence."

Sansa kept silent for a moment. "I'll never get used to it." She spoke softly and she let her head rest on his shoulder. Even though she was barefoot she was still taller than him, but that didn't matter. In his arms she felt safe and warm and protected. She hoped that was exactly what their child felt right now. "Will you make more time for me when our baby is born?" She closed her eyes and Jon rocked her back and forth in his arms.

"I'll try to." Jon murmured. "But Bran is not that great with people and telling them exactly what we mean. The others don't really wanna listen to Arya. And I don't trust Tyrion and Daenerys completely."

"I know." Sansa let out a deep sigh.

She had known what she had said yes too when Jon had admitted that he was in love with her and that he wanted her to be his queen because he couldn't picture anyone else besides him. She had known that he'd have loads of obligations and that she's stand on the sideline, whispering in his ear when she could and looking pretty when she had to. And she had accepted that role because she knew that Jon would be a great king and because she knew she loved him.

And at least with Jon on the throne things would finally change. For the better.

"It's hard to be everything at once, isn't it?" She stepped back and his glance met his. "King, father, husband, friend."

"I wouldn't be able to do any of it without you." Jon tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and then he placed his hands in her sides. "And I promise that being a father will be the most important thing to me. More important than being a king."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Jon." Sansa grabbed his hands and placed them on her belly. "We both know that you're not selfish enough to do so. You will always think of the greater good of the country before you'll think of us."

Jon shook his head firmly and without even the slightest bit of doubt. "I can do that with me. And I guess I do it with you too often too, but not with our child." Jon kneeled down in front of her and he kissed her belly over and over again. "Our child will always be the most important thing in the universe and when I have to choose between something that's good for Westeros and something that's good for my child, I'll always pick our child."

Sansa hands went through his hair and the smile on her face brightened. "You're a wonderful king, Jon Snow." She knelt down in front of him and pressed the palms of her hands to his stubbled cheeks. "But you're gonna be an even better father."

Jon smiled back at her and his forehead touched hers while he reached for her hands. "I hope you don't regret making me your husband either?"

Sansa giggled, but then she shook her head firmly. "Of course not. How could I ever regret that? I've always dreamed about marrying an amazing king. I just never knew it would be you."

"Dreams do come true, just not always in the exact way you've wanted them to."

"This is better than anything I've ever imagined." Sansa closed her eyes and then her lips kissed his. "Much, much better."

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