The End, Bitter and Sweet

“I, Sansa Stark, as Queen of the North, give myself to you, Prince Jon Targaryen. Will you take me?” A smile, bare and fragile, tugged at her lips as her eyes held his. It was almost a jest, that look, a reminder that the two of them were constantly throwing caution and tradition into the faces of those who opposed them.

Jon felt as though a weight had been lifted by that small, uncertain smile and it was easier than he’d imagined, easier than it should have been, to say, “I take you, Sansa Stark.”
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In which Jon and Sansa rule in the North and it is bitter sweet.