The Rightful Heir

Chapter 1

Castle Black

Sansa and Jon sat in the warmth of the softly glowing fireplace in Castle Black. She held a bowl of hearty soup in her hands. Jon recognized shades of sorrow and relief on her pale face. He stared at her; his face grim but shining with love. Sansa and Jon had separated on the fateful day Ned Stark and his daughters rode to the South. Now, after years of separation, they are back together only to realize that things have changed forever.

As Sansa drank her soup, relishing the warmth, Jon turned his eyes to the softly burning wood. He thought of old times just as he used to do on the cold and dreadful days when he felt lonely guarding the Wall. The images of Winterfell, of his father and brothers brought grief to his mind and he turned his attention on Sansa again. It felt really good to see her. Sansa of all people!

His memories of Sansa from Winterfell were always blurred: Sansa, sitting in the dining hall far away from him, Sansa learning to saw and knit. He remembered the efforts she would take in order to become a perfect lady, to be precise, a queen. He saw two people who went in two directions but came back together, broken, lost but still alive. Jon was dead once, but he is alive now. And now he is confused than he ever was.

Sansa finished her soup and looked at Jon. She asked a moment later.

"Jon, why are you staring at me like that?"

She was right. Jon kept staring at Sansa. There was something different about her, but he couldn't pinpoint what. So he mumbled, sounding embarrassed.

"There's something different about you. Obviously, I haven't met you in a long while. But there's something that's changed."

"It must be my hair." Sansa couldn't hold back a light laugh. "It's dyed black."

Jon nodded. He now vividly remembered the bright red hair of Sansa flowing in the wind as she rode away with father. Sansa didn't want to remember the circumstances that led her to hide her true hair in the black dye, for it also brought back memories that she yearned to forget.

For the first time, after the many years of confinement and torture that she had undergone, Sansa began to feel a sense of freedom combined with safety. It is as though father was alive. Jon resembled father so much not only in his looks but in his mannerisms too. She felt home, though she was far away from home. And yet right at that moment, she also felt striking revelation that her war, now their war, is far from over. They can't stay here for ever, neither can they go back home.

"Now what?" Sansa asked Jon in all seriousness. Suddenly she was afraid. "Where would I go?"

"Where would we go?" Jon corrected her. He couldn't send her away. Jon is not Peter Baelish.

Sansa was unaware of Jon's future plans. He did tell her about what happened at the Wall and beyond though not in as many words. But he did not utter a word about what he intended to do next.

"I am not Lord Commander anymore. On top of that I have broken the vows of the Night's Watch. I can't stay here now. I am planning to go away.. to the South.. to some distant island... I don't know." Jon fumbled with his answer. He really didn't know. His inability in providing a definite answer embarrassed him.

"To the South?" Sansa stared at Jon in horror. She couldn't believe it. "Jon, you do know what happens to Stark men who rode down South. It is like a curse."

"I am not a Stark. I've never been" Jon's raised voice and angry face did not deter Sansa from protesting. But before she could make her point across, Jon stood up to leave.

"It is very late, you should get some sleep."

Sansa stood up as well. She couldn't bear to think of going to the South again. Suddenly she started shouting.