Commerce had returned to the streets of Winterfell. Winter was upon them, but the northerners knew how to cope. Sansa Stark, with Jon beside her saw the market square flooded with people, buying the last harvests. Once muddy streets had turned snowy white. A few villagers looked keenly at their rulers, but the sight of the direwolf prevented them from going further. Elsewhere, a few boys took turns at hitting a wooden sword at a hanging scarecrow, playing war.
Then one saw Jon and told the others. “The Bastard, the Bastard!” they yelled, but the shouts were endearing. Like little kids they flocked around the horses, unafraid of Ghost, trying to shake the hand of the King in the North before they were shooed away. Jon let them through, overwhelmed. Some noticed ‘Lady Sansa’ too, but most only had eyes for Jon. “I’m a bastard meself, m’lord,” said a boy eagerly, who could not have been older than Rickon, donning fur twice his size. As Jon ruffled the snow off his hair, another asked, “Your Grace, is it true you came back to life?”
The attention seemed to be making his brother uneasy, so Sansa eventually saw the children away. Soon enough, it was only them and Ghost. They kept trotting the streets, but Jon seemed in another world, smiling to himself. “They are good people,” he finally said, voice full of heart and hope. It broke Sansa to break it.
“Jon, there’s a reason I asked you to ride with me outside castle walls. There are things you should know about Petyr Baelish.”
Jon listened with intent as Sansa spoke about Littlefinger’s increasing influence among the northern lords. In fact, she spoke about everything… Joffrey, Lysa Arryn, all of it. She prayed that if not Lady Brienne, Jon would see what she meant. Jon is king. He needs all the counsel he can get.
Sansa’s monologue was met with a long pause. Finally, Jon asked, “How long have you known this man, Baelish?”
“King’s Landing. He’s been close to me ever since.” And he may love me. For some reason, Sansa left that part out.
But oddly, Jon appeared to guess. “I don’t know who Lord Baelish is and I cannot guess. He seems to be a clever politician and a very wealthy man. Such men can be our greatest enemies, but they can also be useful allies. He had a chance to thwart us and he did not. The reason, Sansa, could be you.”
“Me?” she asked, surprised.
“Love can change a man,” he said simply, yet unable to suppress a grin.
He’s a fighter, a killer, a king, but in his heart he is still a boy. “Jon, I know you keep your faith in people-”
“Maybe you should.”
Sansa let out an angry chuckle. “The things I have seen make that impossible.”
*
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