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“Is this where you swore your oath?”

“Aye.”

The Haunted Forest was filled with a deep stillness, and Sansa sighed over it. “I could almost think the trees breath out the stories of all they have seen, and it’s the knowledge they fill the air with that makes it so heavy.”

She flushed, realizing she had spoken aloud, and Jon smiled, kissing her hand. The red leaves of the weirwoods stretched out above, many had fallen, covering the ground below, leaving them in a cocoon of red. Sansa clasped Jon’s hand, took his other, and led him into the ring of heart trees.

It wasn’t until she knelt that he realized what she was doing. “Sansa.”

“It could be called poetic to take a wife where you forswore it.”

“Or blasphemous.” All the same, he knelt as well, his blood pulsing as if in preparation for a fight, his heart stammering many things. It quieted when he took a deep breath, and he calmed when Sansa dropped his hands, placing hers on his cheeks, “I take this man.”

While neither thought they believed anymore, while both had declared they were no longer children, they closed their eyes in unison, each silently asking for the blessings of the old gods. And while life had given them no reason to hope, Jon found himself doing so anyway. “I haven’t a cloak to offer you.”

“You cloaked me years ago, at Castle Black, in an old fur that smelled horrible, but felt more luxurious than anything I’d ever worn. It felt like safety, like home. I cloaked you too you know.”

“Were two cloakings enough, do you think? Or do we need a third?”

He teased her, but Sansa pulled him towards her until they could be no closer, “I rather like to think we were bound from that moment, that it was then that we became each other’s, even if we did not yet know it.”

“We were, and it did not take me long to realize,” without hesitation.

“It may have taken me longer, but you were no less dear for it. You felt real to me in a world full of falseness. You were the truest thing I knew since I left home.”

Jon was startled when she wiped tears from his cheeks; he hadn’t been aware of shedding any. Sansa folded herself into his arms, and whispered words that even the trees could not hear, for they were for Jon, and Jon alone, “This is my third wedding, you are my third husband, but this is the only true wedding I’ve had. You are my true husband, you were all along.”