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Tales of the Stranger

Summary:

Ever since Lady's death, Sansa has felt like she's been cut off from the Old Gods. And she no longer believes in the Faith of the Seven. Except maybe one. So she prays to the Stranger after her family’s death. She prays for everything and they all get answered. Joffrey's death, escaping King's Landing, her family's return, finding Jon, resurrecting Jon. Unfortunately, the Stranger doesn't give gifts freely. They all have consequences.

Notes:

tried a new writing style, kinda dig it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

written for the Jonsa Halloween event on tumblr!
Day 3: Tales/The Stranger

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“I don't pray anymore.” She had told Tyrion. But it was a lie. Oh, Sansa prayed alright. But not to the Old Gods who had cut her off, just as her Father cut off Lady’s head. They showed her no kindness. And not to the usual Seven either. Father, Warrior, Smith, Mother, Maiden, Crone? Useless. There was no mercy and justice for she has been forsaken. So she turned to the last face. The one whom she feared most as a little girl. The Stranger.

Perhaps her neglect of him is the cause of the tragedy that befell her family. People said that praying to the Stranger could be dangerous though. That it was taboo and that he took more than he gave. But she didn’t care if those stories were true or not. If they were, Sansa would gladly go into his welcoming arms if it meant her torment in King’s Landing was over. So she prayed. She prayed that he would take care of the family that she had lost. And she prayed that he would leave Arya alone. She prayed he’d leave Jon alone.

--

Jon never gave much thought to the Gods. Sure he’d send a prayer here and there, but if the Old Gods deemed it right to take his Father and brother, even Lady Catelyn, did he really want to send prayers to them? So he took a page out of Sansa’s book: he turned to the Seven. Specifically the Stranger. If the Old Gods could no longer keep his family safe in this world, perhaps the Stranger could keep them safe in the next. Thinking of Sansa made his heart ache. Ache for the family he lost. For the family he never knew. Family. His mother. Did she pray to the Seven as well?

--

When Joffrey died, she didn’t have time to light a candle in thanks for her prayers. But once she settled in the Vale, she made sure to offer a prayer each night to the one face of the deity who heard and answered her pleas. 

But nothing good can last, for she had forgotten the songs and tales about the Stranger. He takes just as much as he gives. So while he took Sansa away from King’s Landing, he gave Arya back to Winterfell, right into the arms of the Bolton’s. When she heard the news, she knew her time as Alayne Stone was over. She gathered the Lords Declarant and revealed herself: Sansa Stark, trueborn daughter to Ned and Catelyn Stark, an heir to Winterfell. With their support, and more from the Northern Houses she gathered along the way, Sansa took back Winterfell in the name of Stark. 

The Stranger proved once again to have answered her prayers. Arya was not harmed by the hands of the Bolton’s. And the Stranger proved once again that the tales of his give and take were true. Arya was not harmed because she was not there, her truest and oldest friend was: Jeyne Poole. With Jeyne healed and by her side, she learnt a great deal. Theon had not murdered her brothers. More prayers of thanks were sent to the Stranger. But, as usual, the Stranger’s gifts always come in two. With news of her surviving brothers came news of her losing a brother. House Reed came and declared their fealty, along with a declaration of a long kept secret: Jon Snow was not her brother. He was her cousin. A forgotten Targaryen. And Targaryens had this unfortunate ability to die before their time. 

--

Before Hardhome, Jon hadn't thought to bother with prayers. After Hardhome, he prayed to any deity that would listen. Don’t let this be how we all end. If anything, he needed to fight for the family that was left. For Arya. For Sansa. He thought his prayers were answered. Uncle Benjen was back! But the gods do love their cruel jokes. He felt like every prayer he sent out was returned with a stab through his body. 

As he slowly slipped away, he saw flashes of everything he loved. Arya with her needle. Sansa brushing Lady’s fur. Lady. Ghost. “Ghost,” he whispered. He saw the Stranger then. No, don't take me, he thought. His life wasn’t finished yet. He doesn’t even know who his mother is. His mother.

It was like he was looking through someone else’s eyes. It was Ghost. It wasn’t Ghost. He saw his father, Ned Stark. But not your father, a sinister voice whispered. Suddenly, there were wolves. Then dragons. Wolves again. The Wolves will come again. Who is Jojen Reed? He saw green flames licking at castles. Then nothing. Green flames turn to red. Then he saw hair. Such vibrant, fire-kissed hair. Then more nothing. A dragon hiding in wolfskin the sinister voice returned. Jon was a dragon? But his father was a wolf. Not his father. Then he saw Arya. But not Arya. A woman who looked just like him, standing next to a man who looked nothing like him. Forbidden. The tragedy that followed that union was too much. Too much too much too much. Jon Snow saw nothing.

Then he opened his eyes. So pretty. Sansa?

--

With Winterfell back under Stark rule, the Houses gathered there. It was time to make their stand. The North Remembers. They’ll be an independent kingdom once more. It was through Lord Manderley that she learned of Rickon’s fate. Her brother was alive. When her sister heard she took back Winterfell, she came home. The Stranger truly answered Sansa’s prayers. Her family was slowly growing back. With as much laughter as there were tears, the sisters reconciled. But the scales must be balanced. When Rickon was brought back to them, word of Jon’s death was brought as well. Trusting Lord Royce and Lady Mormont with the protection of her brother, Sansa and Arya departed to Wall, set on bringing Jon Snow’s body home, because brother or cousin, he was still family. 

They reached Castle Black and it was in a disarray. But with two Stark daughters and a retinue of loyal Northerners, the Watch was quickly set straight again, with the mutineers put in the cells. The Lady Melisandre said she could bring him back, and Sansa, tempted with the idea of her family whole once more, insisted she do so. During the ritual, she sent a silent prayer to the Stranger, begging for forgiveness as she took something he already claimed as his.

She smiled at him when he woke. Her heart fluttered when he uttered her name. And then dread filled her. The Stranger gave back Jon, but at what price?

--

Wrong wrong wrong. He knew it but he couldn’t stop it. He woke and hugged his sisters. Not his sisters. One embrace filled him with memories of a past he longed for. The other filled him with a promise for a future he didn’t dare dream for. Wrong. Jon Snow had prayed and prayed for a family. For a name. For a love. For a purpose. Jon Snow should be careful what he prays for. 

At every corner of Winterfell, he saw her. Her and her pretty fire-kissed hair. And when he saw her, he couldn’t stop staring. Her kindness in the weeks he took recovering back inside the walls of Winterfell are forever ingrained in his soul. The way she looked at him. The way she smiled at him. The way she touched him. Forbidden.

 He growled at every man who questioned her leadership. Threatened any and all who looked at her wrong. Wrong. She was his, but not his. Some noticed. Some didn’t. Arya did. 

“You love her?” It wasn’t a question of if he did or didn’t. It was a question of how. He mistook the look of concern in her eyes for distrust and that made him wish the Stranger hadn’t heard his prayers and took him instead. Before she could say anything, the horn of the front gates sounded off. A traveler. 

--

Bran was back. That night, Sansa lit as many candles and gave as many offerings as she could. It was like the Stranger was slowly restoring House Stark. She had her family back. Her Rickon back. Her Bran. Her Arya. Her Jon. No. Not her Jon. She supposes she can’t begrudge the Stranger’s idea of a joke. He gave her Jon, but gave Jon her heart. No matter, what’s done is done. Let her love go unrequited if it meant Jon was alive and well. 

But again. The Stranger and his jokes. She had her home and her family. But did she get them back only for them to be taken away again? A Night’s King. Ice-covered undead. A Targaryen Queen. Fire-breathing dragons. The world’s cruelties seemed to never end. 

As the Lady of Winterfell and Queen Regent of the North, for Bran abdicated and Rickon was too young, she was looked at for taking lead in the planning for the many future battles. Of course, she had Arya and Jon in charge of the actual battle plans. She was no expert and they were. Food and people, clothing and numbers. That's where her expertise was. They couldn’t spare riders, for every man counted. So Bran was assigned to warg into nearby animals to keep watch on both fronts. Enemies to the North and enemies to the South. Despite consequences, Sansa prayed.

--

He fought and he fought and he wouldn’t stop. Not if stopping meant the death and destruction of his people. His family. His Sansa. Not his Sansa. Not yet. With the knowledge of Rickon ruling one day, they threw caution to the wind. Shared ale during dinner, long nights by the fire, stolen kisses under the bannisters. They thought they were stealthy. Arya was stealthier. Bran even more so. It didn’t matter to his siblings -cousins- really, one should find happiness where they could. And so with a promise waiting for him at the end of the wars, he fought.

The Stranger took many that year. Fallen soldiers, innocent children, tyrannical queens. But he left the Starks. He left Jon. And with the war over, Jon didn’t want to wait any longer. He didn’t completely trust the Stranger to not strike again. He married her under the Heart Tree in Winterfell as soon as he could. Being with Sansa was all he wanted and he didn’t know how long he would have with her.

--

After the war came their marriage. After their marriage came Spring. And with spring came children. There was peace and prosperity and Sansa prayed it would stay. She sent word out as well. Secret singers and musicians, all playing a new song of the Stranger. For the once neglected face of the Seven, he was no longer the outcast. At least above the Neck, where Sansa ensured religious freedom. Those who believed in the Old Gods and New coexisted in harmony. The Stranger suddenly had more prayers sent his way. More lit candles. More offerings. 

And so the years went on. Rickon grew into his role and eventually took over as King in the North. Sansa, glad to be done with ruling, left with Jon and settled their family in a nearby keep. Arya and Bran travelled to the Lands of Always Winter. She eventually left him there to live and thrive amongst the Children of the Forest and continued on her journeys. Oh she sends letters home, even visits often. But she doesn’t like staying still for too long. 

It wasn’t until they were old and grey did the Stranger make his final appearance. Just like the tales say, the Stranger never gives anything freely. It was time to collect. Hand in hand and surrounded by grandchildren, Jon and Sansa closed their eyes and greeted their old friend one more time. 

Notes:

question for the masses: should i have tagged this as major character death? lmao was debating, but it's not like they died in a sad way?🤔🤔

also. i got inspired by that edit of old greying jonsa by amymel on tumblr😍 tbh i love a good jonsa growing old together fic it's what they deserve

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