Jon isn't good at this part. He'd never thought himself to be in a position to marry a fine lady, much less a princess, and now he's a king looking to do that very thing. He remembers playing with Robb in the yard using practice swords and pretending that he was Aemon the Dragonknight.
"You can't be Aemon," Robb had shouted. "You're a bastard, Jon. Aemon was a prince." Robb had been his best friend and these jabs were few and far between unlike those from Sansa and her lady mother but perhaps that's why they hurt even more. He looks at his future wife and tries not to shy away from her. They ought to at least like one another before marrying.
"Let's go inside. It's too cold to be out here in the bailey, even if I was born here in the North." Sansa cuts him a glance and Jon offers his arm to Guinevere to escort her inside Winterfell proper.
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Date: 2019-09-03 02:25 am (UTC)"You can't be Aemon," Robb had shouted. "You're a bastard, Jon. Aemon was a prince." Robb had been his best friend and these jabs were few and far between unlike those from Sansa and her lady mother but perhaps that's why they hurt even more. He looks at his future wife and tries not to shy away from her. They ought to at least like one another before marrying.
"Let's go inside. It's too cold to be out here in the bailey, even if I was born here in the North." Sansa cuts him a glance and Jon offers his arm to Guinevere to escort her inside Winterfell proper.