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“All right, here’s the agenda for my birthday. You’re required to attend all events,” Arya dictated, slapping papers in front of Robb, Jon, and herself. Sansa thought it was the most organized she’d ever seen Arya. Her eighteenth birthday was still a week away.
“Isn’t your birthday on the twenty-second?” Jon asked, peering at the agenda. Sansa leaned over his shoulder to look closer rather than looking at her own copy that was right in front of her. She kissed his shoulder quickly, just a peck, because she could. And because even after a little over three months of dating, his ears turned pink from the small sign of affection.
“Yup,” Arya confirmed, climbing on the counter to pull a coffee mug down.
“This says we’re going to The Wolf’s Crown on the twenty-first?” Jon clarified.
“Yup. At midnight though, so I’ll technically be eighteen.”
“We’re going to the pub for two hours at midnight? You know closing is at two, right?” Robb pointed out.
“That’s enough time for a few drinks. We’ll go out earlier on my actual birthday.”
“Did Mum and Dad okay this?” Sansa asked, reading the list, which included an appointment at Valyrian Ink, Winterfell’s tattoo parlor.
“I’ll be eighteen. It doesn’t matter what they think.” Sansa turned her head so Arya couldn’t see her raised eyebrows. She wondered what her parents—specifically Catelyn—would say about that.
“Who else is coming to this two-day event?” Robb asked, flipping through the agenda.
“Gendry, of course. Hot Pie and a few others might stop by at the pubs that night, but otherwise it’ll just be the family.” Sansa glanced at Arya just in time to see her eyes flick away from Jon’s bent head. She wondered what he thought of the comment, though she could probably guess, given the fact that the flush had yet to fade from his ears.
Sansa opened her mouth to ask Arya something else about her daylong birthday celebration, but the sound of feet on the stairs stopped her, as Arya was suddenly scrambling to collect all of their agendas.
“We’ll talk about this more later,” she said, stuffing the papers into her book bag that was still in the kitchen, sitting where it landed when she came home for the start of summer break nearly a month ago. She was gone before Catelyn could make another comment about the bag.
“You lot got up late,” Catelyn commented on her way through the kitchen. Sansa knew she’d probably gotten up even before Ned did, no doubt to make him breakfast and pack his lunch.
“It’s summer. We’re supposed to get up late,” Robb retorted good naturedly, beating her to the coffee maker and refilling the travel mug she held. “Plus, Jon and I reached level fifteen last night. And Sansa probably filled half a sketchbook, so it wasn’t like we weren’t being productive.” Catelyn scoffed but smiled anyway.
“Oh, I was going to ask one of you if you could pick up Bran and Rickon from summer school at two. I’ve got a few errands I was hoping to run before next week.” She nodded toward the screen door Arya just disappeared through. “And tell her to vacuum today, yeah? She wanted the dogs so much, she can clean up after them.” Catelyn picked up her mug and keys before heading for the door.
“Jon and I can pick up the boys if you tell Arya she has to vacuum,” Sansa said as soon as her mum left, leaping on the opportunity before Robb could do the same to her. Robb groaned.
“Fine. But I get Jon tomorrow night so we can try to get to twenty.” Sansa wrapped her arms around Jon’s shoulders, jokingly glaring at Robb over the top of Jon’s head.
“I suppose I can give him up for a few hours,” Sansa relented before pressing her lips to the patch of skin behind his ear she’d only recently discovered when he started wearing his hair up more frequently. She could feel his pulse jump beneath his skin.
“Gross. Get a room,” Robb groaned, masking his eyes. Sansa rolled her eyes but couldn’t trap the giggle that rose in her throat.
“I’m going to go shower so we can get the boys in an hour. Make sure to tell Arya to vacuum,” she threw at Robb before leaning around to kiss Jon briefly on the mouth. She heard Robb protesting but she wouldn’t let that stop her from kissing her boyfriend. She did stop herself from deepening the kiss just to gross out Robb. She knew Jon wouldn’t appreciate that.
He wasn’t quite as comfortable with PDA in the Stark cottage as he’d been when they’d still been down at KLU. And Sansa perfectly understanding of that. It just meant she enjoyed their moments of solitude all the more.
Sansa paused at the shower curtain, wishing to hell that she could drag Jon up and into the shower with her, but she knew she would likely be the only one truly enjoying that scenario. Jon would be nervous as hell, Robb would be grossed out, and Arya would be as well. No, them being alone—truly alone—for more than a handful of moments would have to wait until they were back at school.
Sansa had enjoyed spending the summer at her parents’ her first summer home, and she loved being there with Jon, but damn was it a shock after their first few months together. At school, they spent nearly every night together—either at his or her house, but that idea was promptly rejected by both of her parents when they returned for summer. Jon can stay in the guest room, Catelyn had said. Jon better stay in the guest room, Ned had grumbled. Though Jon had supported the idea too: Don’t you think it’d be awkward, sleeping in your room with all your siblings around? Sansa had thought no but she didn’t want to argue with Jon about it, not when it was already a lost cause with her parents.
Sansa thought that might have been connected to why they kept staying up so late, cuddled up on the sofa until they were forced to go to bed.
“Seven hells, you scared me. What, are you hiding from your vacuuming?” Sansa asked, startled, gripping her towel tighter around her chest. Arya was lying across her bed, head hanging off, face flushed red.
“Maybe,” Arya scowled before swinging herself upright. “I wanted to ask you something though.” Sansa turned at that, not quite as hesitant as she once might have been, but those weren’t words she heard often from Arya, the Stark child that typically dove right in, no matter the subject.
“Hmm?” Sansa pulled her robe on over her towel, keeping her back to her sister.
“Would you draw me something?” Sansa turned around then, dropping her towel. Arya hadn’t asked her to draw anything since they were children and she’d doodled that little swirly wolf.
“Sure. For your birthday?”
“Actually, I’ll need it tomorrow. I have a consultation with the tattoo artist for next week.” Sansa raised her eyebrows at the deadline.
“Depends on what it is. That’s a short timeline.”
“Here, something like this, but like, with a twist?” Arya held up her phone, showing a picture of a wolf pack running through a night darkened forest. Sansa studied it quickly, noting how it was mostly in shadow and the overall basic shapes of the image.
“Yeah, I can get you something for tomorrow. Send me the picture, yeah?”
“Yeah, cool. I’ll send it.” Arya hopped off the bed then, heading for the door.
“Oi, don’t forget to vacuum!” Sansa yelled after her.
“Aye, aye,” drifted back from the stairs. Sansa sighed.
“Is that new? It looks different,” Jon asked, looking at the sketchbook she had propped against his dashboard. Sansa almost laughed. It looks different because it’s not you, she thought. She hadn’t drawn anything besides Jon, with the exception of school assignments, for months.
“It’s for Arya—it’s the tattoo she’s getting.” She saw Jon’s nod from the corner of her eye as she added a few branches to a tree.
“Did you go as all out as Arya is for her eighteenth?” Sansa shrugged, looking up.
“I didn’t have an agenda, if that’s what you’re asking. We went to The Wolf’s Crown for drinks. I tallied the shots on my arm with a Sharpie. Normal eighteenth. Why, what’d you do?”
It took Sansa the fifteen seconds of silence to realize two things. One, what she’d asked was stupid. She had a vague idea of what Jon had done for his eighteenth: moved out of the group home, as he’d become a legal adult. Two, they’d been dating for over three months and she didn’t know his birthday.
“Jon, I…” she paused, trailing off. The gentle chuckle slowed her flush that had begun to creep up her neck.
“It’s all right. I know I didn’t have a normal eighteenth. I spent it all looking for jobs and moving into my new apartment,” he answered, voice light. Sansa strained, listening for the hesitancy she was sure was in there somewhere, but she couldn’t hear it.
“I just realized, I don’t know when you’re birthday is.” Sansa leaned back against the headrest, staring at Jon’s profile. His hands were relaxed in his lap, and Sansa saw no tension in his body. His posture made her smile softly.
“I don’t know for sure either. They estimated it being in mid-October, they picked October 15th.”
“October 15th. Got it,” Sansa repeated, closing the picture Arya had sent and plugging Jon’s birthday into her calendar. “If Arya wasn’t sure of her birthday, she would claim the whole damn month,” she joked, trying to shift them back to lighter topics. The boys would be out any minute and having a serious conversation with two young boys in the backseat wasn’t very easy.
Jon snorted, effectively lifting any of the anxiousness she’d been feeling.
Sansa woke up at her normal time the morning before Arya’s birthday. She was naturally an early riser, but once she realized how late she would be out after going to the pubs at midnight, she groaned, flopping back down onto her pillows. She was not going to get up at seven AM if she was going to be out until two. She drew the sheet back over her head and settled in to get a few more hours of sleep.
Sansa woke up again when she heard Arya’s raised voice drifting up from the main floor. She scrambled out of bed, guessing that Catelyn either found Arya’s birthday agenda or finally had it over that book bag in the dining room.
She rushed down stairs, crashing into the body that stood just a few steps from the bottom. She knew without needing to look that it was Jon she’d crashed into. She didn’t bother to detangle herself.
“What’s going on?” Sansa perched her chin on Jon’s shoulder and peered out the window with him.
“Gendry brought over Arya’s birthday present early. She’s really excited.”
“What’d he get her? A horse?” Sansa joked, looking for whatever the present was in the front yard.
“Close. A car.”
“He got her a car?!” Sansa exclaimed, moving past Jon and heading for the door.
“Is now a bad time to tell you that I actually knew about it and helped him on it?” Jon called, following quickly behind her. Sansa spun to face him when she heard that soft hesitancy in his voice.
“Not at all. I’m terrible with secrets. So he built it then?” she asked, moving again towards the driveway.
“Partially. We repaired it. He’s pretty good with cars, Gendry.”
“Huh. I didn’t know that.”
Sansa and Jon joined Ned and Catelyn at the edge of the walkway. Both were looking at the way Arya was bouncing in the driver’s seat of the car with Gendry leaning into her window.
“She looks happy,” Sansa muttered to Jon, grinning. He grinned back at her and rested his hand on her hip, pulling her closer to him. It was one of the first times he initiated contact with her in front of her parents. She had to stop herself from leaning over to kiss him.
“Gendry said you helped him with it?” Ned asked, leaning over Cat. Sansa felt Jon’s movement as he nodded. “You’re good with cars, then?” Sansa turned to look at her dad. She’d seen her dad and Jon bond over their shared love of history with Robb, but they hadn’t really spent any time together without Robb.
“Yeah,” Jon answered.
“Would you mind taking a look at the truck with me sometime this summer? It makes a funny noise if it’s being used for an extended period of time.”
“Yeah, a’course.” Sansa tipped her head to lean against Jon’s in a show of affection she knew he’d be okay with.
Arya was careening towards them then, colliding head on with Jon.
“Gendry said he couldn’t’ve done it without you,” she said to his chest. Sansa felt Jon’s hand leave her waist to wrap around Arya.
“You’ve got something else coming from me tomorrow too.” She grinned up at him before bounding over to their parents.
“Can I go for a drive with Gendry?” Sansa’s eyebrows lifted at the fact she heard a question mark at the end.
“I guess that’s fine. Just be back at a reasonable time,” Ned told her. Arya barely had time to nod before she was racing back down the driveway and in the driver’s seat. Arya waved as she pulled away from the curb and Sansa felt more than heard Catelyn’s sigh beside her. She wasn’t sure if it was a sigh of relief or a sigh of loss at her youngest daughter becoming an adult.
At eleven-thirty, Arya rounded them all up, making sure they were all ready to be at the pub as soon as it was midnight. Sansa met everyone downstairs, still groggy from her nap. She was awake enough to notice the way Arya was shushing everyone and walking on her tiptoes. The fact all the lights downstairs were off as well helped with Sansa being only half awake as well.
“Arya… do Mum and Dad know we’re leaving?” Sansa whispered as Arya shoved her shoes into her bag.
“I left a note,” she shrugged.
“What if they wake up looking for us?”
“They’ll see the note. Trust me, they can’t miss it. Plus, we’ll only be gone for two hours. And in fifteen minutes we’ll all be adults.” Sansa wanted to point out that if that was the case, why didn’t she just tell their parents where they were going, but Arya was walking barefoot out the door so she didn’t say anything.
They piled into Robb’s car, Arya quickly scrambling to get shot gun, claiming it was her right as it was her birthday.
“So I’m not planning on having a lot tonight—I thought maybe a drink or two and a shot. Anyone have suggestions for either?”
“Anything but tequila,” Robb instructed.
“That’s fine. I don’t like tequila anyway.” Robb and Jon both snorted.
“They might have some specials—and I think they have a special birthday shot. I dunno what’s in it though,” Robb suggested.
“I kinda want something flaming…” Arya mused and Sansa opened her mouth but she stopped herself from actually saying what she was thinking. Sansa had made dumb choices on her eighteenth. Arya was allowed to as well—even if Sansa thought Arya’s decisions were far dumber than any of hers were.
When they pulled up in front of the pub, Gendry was waiting for them. Much to Arya’s expressed disappointment, there was no line outside the pub like she was anticipating, which meant that they had to wait in the car for a few minutes until midnight and she could legally enter the pub.
As they walked up to the pub, Arya’s face was covered with wolfish grin, matching the one on her license she had proudly at the ready. The rest of the had their IDs ready as well, anticipating a bouncer, though when they reached the door it was unblocked.
“Must be late enough that they figure everyone coming in is legal,” Robb shrugged, holding the door open for everyone to shuffle through. Sansa caught Arya’s scowl but she quietly reminded her sister that they’d be going out earlier tomorrow and she’d definitely get carded then.
The Wolf’s Crown tended to be more clubby than pubby, but given that it was midnight on a Wednesday, it wasn’t actually all that crowded. There were pockets of other young adults but on the whole it was fairly quiet—nothing like it had been when Sansa came with Margaery and Jeyne Pool over winter break.
At the bar, Arya eagerly snatched up the drink menu, eyes moving rapidly. Sansa saw Robb lean over their younger sister’s shoulder, giving her his opinions on certain drinks. Jon sat beside her, skimming the list of tap beers.
“Do you remember when we came here over winter break?” she asked, nudging him. He turned toward her, eyes and smile soft.
“And we played cards after? Yeah, yeah I remember.”
“Gods, Margaery embarrassed me so much that night. I was asking for ideas for your Christmas gift and she said…Hell, how’d she put it? Wrap yourself down and stick yourself under his covers instead of under the tree.” Sansa flushed again repeating the words, just as she had the night Margaery had said them, even though they had in fact slept together. Jon’s neck and face flared pink as well. “She’d seen the drawing I’d done of you—the one I ended up giving you.” Jon’s face stayed tinged pink even after they ordered their drinks—he, Robb, and Gendry all got beers, Sansa ordered a hard cider, while Arya ordered them a round of shots and a Long Island Iced Tea because why not?
“What kind of shots did you order?” Jon asked, leaning around, his arm draped across the back of Sansa’s chair.
“Flaming B-52s.” Sansa heard Jon choke on his beer next to her.
“Oh, this’ll be a fun night,” Robb muttered.
Just as Arya planned, they only stayed for two drinks and the one round of shots. Gendry helped support her out to Robb’s car as she kept up a steady stream of protests. She’d had two Long Islands, plus the shot.
Sansa let Gendry and Robb handle her while she took the opportunity to wrap her arms tightly around Jon as they walked out. With the couple of beers between them, and her parents nowhere in sight, the PDA didn’t put Jon off. Instead he wrapped his arm around her as well, pressing a kiss to her temple as they walked.
“What would you say about sneaking in somewhere tonight?” Sansa whispered when they hung back, waiting with Gendry and Arya as Robb pulled the car up for them.
“Where?” There was confusion in his voice and not a touch of the anticipation that Sansa felt humming through her body.
“My room.” The arm around her loosened but didn’t drop.
“Sansa…” he groaned, dropping his forehead onto her shoulder. “I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t want to… It’s just that… that I’m… I’m just not comfortable breaking your parents trust like that…in their house.”
Sansa swallowed her sigh. She knew that. She knew he didn’t like the idea of sneaking around in her parents’ house, but the alcohol had made her bolder. And it wasn’t necessarily sex she was asking for. It was more about being physically close to Jon in a way they hadn’t been since they left KLU.
“I know, I know. It’s all right. Maybe… Maybe I can convince my parents to give us a room when we go to White Harbor next month,” Sansa suggested, her brain trying to find a solution they’d both be happy with. “Would that be okay?” Jon’s arms tightened around her again, just as Robb’s car pulled up.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I could do that.”
“Change in plans,” Arya announced, causing Sansa to turn. She’d just come up after lunch to pick out an outfit for the second night of Arya’s birthday celebration and had failed to hear Arya follow her up. “My tattoo appointment is probably going to take longer than expected so I’m not forcing everyone to come with, but would you come? Since it’s your design. You could get one yourself.”
Sansa snorted but agreed anyway.
“Appointment’s in half an hour so we should leave soon as you’re ready.”
“Hey, Arya, did you tell Jon?” Sansa called before she disappeared.
“Told him he could hang with Robb and play their video game,” Arya shrugged.
“You should ask him if he wants to come.” Sansa saw the light flash in Arya’s eyes before she ran off to ask him.
Twenty minutes later, the three of them were in the waiting room of the tattoo parlor. Arya had the sketch of the running wolf pack Sansa had done for her last week ready for the artist. Sansa kept wanting to tweak it every time she saw it in her sister’s lap, but Arya told her the artist had already had seen it and they couldn’t change it now.
Arya got called back and she hauled Sansa and Jon back with her. She told Sansa she just wanted her to stay until the artist got the outline done, then they could wait in the waiting room until she was done.
When they were back in the waiting room, once Sansa had okayed the outline done by the tattoo artist, Sansa walked around, admiring the art on the walls. Then she stopped in front of one of the smaller, simpler ones. Jon had been wandering too, but came over when she stopped, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.
“It looks like the lighthouse we visit in White Harbor,” Sansa commented. Jon’s arms around her tightened.
“Do you know the legend of that lighthouse?” There was a weight in his voice that Sansa was surprised to hear. She’d never heard that the lighthouse of White Harbor was of any significance, but then again until she met Jon, she never paid attention to any history lessons.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Do you remember the War of the Five Kings? The book you gave me was about it.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“So, according to legend that war was followed by another. There’s no proof aside from songs and tales that this war even happened. Most historians don’t believe it did at all—they think someone made it up to justify the destruction of the throne. Anyway, this war was said to be fought against the dead—”
“The dead? As in zombies?” Jon chuckled.
“I told you, most historians believe it didn’t happen. According to legend, a King in the North led the battle against the dead. He left his wife at home, in change of battling the harsh winter while he battled the dead. When the war was won he sailed home as the way over land was considered treacherous with all the snow. Except after they left port in Eastwatch, the queen received a raven from White Harbor. There was a snowstorm, a squall, and everyone thought that the ship the king was on would never make it to the harbor in it.
“The queen knew there was nothing she could do, but she and her Queensguard rode for White Harbor anyway, enduring the outskirts of the storm. This king and queen were said to be soul mates—they had this connection, according to the legend. She said she knew he wasn’t dead. So she demanded that she be taken to the lighthouse, knowing she could get him home. For seven days, she stayed in the lighthouse, feeding the fire, keeping it alight. Her Queensguard tried to get her to come down, stay in an inn or the lord’s keep.
“On the seventh day they told her to come down. The storm was nearly over and there were no sightings of ships, wrecked or otherwise. She refused, saying she could feel him out there still. That night she slept still in the lighthouse, so she was there when she heard the harbormaster sound the horn when there were sails on the horizon.”
“It was him? The king?” Sansa felt Jon’s nod.
“It was. The captain of the ship said without the beacon of the lighthouse they never would’ve found White Harbor. They would’ve been lost at sea. She saved them. The lighthouse saved them.”
“So what happened after that?” Sansa asked eagerly, wishing she had paid attention in history classes. Jon shrugged.
“They returned to their keep and lived happily ever after, I guess.”
“It’s so romantic,” Sansa told the sketch of the lighthouse. She stared at it for another few seconds before turning to kiss Jon. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you too,” he murmured, pulling her into a chair where they sat cuddled together until Arya came out from her appointment.
Arya’s official birthday dinner was surprisingly uneventful. They went out to a nice restaurant where Arya ordered a glass of wine and got carded.
“Here’s to your first drink,” Ned toasted, raising his glass. Everyone raised their glasses too.
“First legal drink,” Robb amended so only Sansa and Arya could hear him. Both Stark daughters had to stifle their giggle.
They did gifts after they ate. Their parents got Arya practical gifts as they usually did. Sansa got her a print by some street artist she knew Arya liked. The younger boys got her gift cards for the movies and to buy music. Jon got her seat covers for her new car that had the different phases of the moon on them. Robb got her a bottle of whiskey and a flask.
“Robb!” Catelyn scolded.
“What? She’s eighteen. I got Sansa a bottle of vodka and a flask for her eighteenth too.” Catelyn’s exasperated look suggested that this was different and he knew it but everyone else was smirking.
“I’d better not see that flask at any family events.” Arya agreed but Sansa had heard the loophole in what Catelyn had said that she knew Arya heard too.
“So have you got plans to go out with your friends tonight?” Ned asked.
“Yeah, we’re going to the Wolf’s Crown with Hot Pie and the rest of ‘em. Maybe I’ll actually get carded this time.”
“This time? What’d you mean, this time?” Catelyn repeated. Sansa focused her eyes on her plate and let Arya deal with that one. She was eighteen after all.
“Nothing. Just that I almost didn’t get carded today,” Arya shrugged, completely nonchalant.
“Mhmm,” Catelyn hummed, looking like she wanted to continue but Ned asked another question and the subject was dropped.
After dinner Arya drove to Gendry’s to pick up him, Hot Pie, and the rest before they all met up at The Wolf’s Crown. Robb said he wanted to run a few errands first, whatever that meant, so Sansa and Jon went back with to the Stark cottage with everyone else to hang out until Robb was ready to leave.
Sansa curled next to Jon on the sofa. He was reading one of her dad’s history books. She glanced over to see if it was from the period after the War of the Five Kings, but it looked like it was about the turn of the century and the modernization period.
Sansa hadn’t stopped thinking about the lighthouse story all day. She wanted to learn more about it, about the king and queen that loved each other so much that they could tell the other was alive. She had thought to search through her dad’s books, but Jon had said most historians believed the war was nothing but myth and legend, which meant the history books probably wouldn’t have anything. The Internet might though, she thought.
Sansa had sat down with a book in her lap but instead she opened a web page on her phone, searching for the lighthouse story.
Nowhere could she find the names of the king and queen, but she found a few versions of the lighthouse story. There were slight variations, but in every single one, the queen lighting the beacon in White Harbor was what brought the king home to her.
As she read the different versions, she couldn’t help but look at Jon, wondering they would be able to be that for each other: be the light that calls the other home safe.
She loved the idea more than any of the romance clichés she’d read and enjoyed.
She reached up to touch the snowflake pendent she always wore. She remembered what he said soon after he gave it to her, after she’d told Catelyn about them. You are my world. She’d told him you’re mine too, but she wanted to be more than that. She wanted to be his home, his lighthouse, his safe harbor in the storm.
She thought maybe—maybe—she might be or at least something close, but part of her doubted that. Not because she didn’t think Jon loved her but because of what happened with him and Ygritte. He thought that she was going to be his home but she hadn’t been ready for that. But Sansa wasn’t Ygritte. Permanence, homes, roots—those weren’t things that sent Sansa running. Those were the things she wanted to give Jon with all of her heart. She didn’t know how to tell him that though. She didn’t know how to tell him that she wanted to be his home, not when she knew he was probably wary of putting too much pressure on her after everything that happened with Ygritte.
Sansa realized she was staring at him when her phone buzzed. Her hand fell from the necklace to answer it.
“Robb’s back and Arya’s heading over to the pub,” she relayed, typing back to Robb that they’d be out in a minute.
“Mm’kay. I’m ready,” Jon said, putting his bookmark in. He turned toward her and she surprised him with a kiss. When she pulled back, he smiled at her, eyes slightly dazed.
“C’mon.” He took her hand, pulling her up, and leading her out to Robb’s car.
The errands Robb had to run ended up being getting birthday stuff for Arya: a tiara, a sash, beads, and noisemakers, just as he had for her eighteenth.
“We’re not getting kicked out of the pub, are we?” Jon asked.
“I didn’t for mine, but we were in KLU and they’re more used to that kind of thing,” she answered.
“I did, but I think that had more to do with Theon than the tiara and noisemakers.” Sansa saw Jon’s eyebrows lift but he didn’t comment. “I mean, Arya can get loud but Gendry can usually get her back to an appropriate level. I think we’ll be fine.”
Robb led them into the pub and quickly found Arya with her boys in one of the large corner booths.
“Happy eighteenth, baby sister!” Robb cried, draping the sash over her before balancing the tiara on her head. Arya scowled up at the sparkly plastic but made no move to remove it.
“Thanks,” she deadpanned, adjusting the sash. “’Cept I’m officially eighteen. Can’t be your baby sister anymore.”
“Aw, you’ll always be our baby sister,” Robb cooed, pulling her into his side briefly before she wiggled free.
They settled in and Gendry and Robb left to get everyone drinks. Once Arya’s was placed in front of her she uncapped a marker with her teeth and drew a tally mark on her arm.
“Um,” Sansa started.
“To keep track of my drinks. This arm is drinks, this arm is shots.” She raised her left arm, which already had two tallies.
“You’re not going to remember that in another shot,” Robb told her but Arya shrugged.
“Gendry’ll take care of me,” she said. Sansa thought she heard something else in the simple statement but she ignored it.
A round of shots later, everyone was out of the dance floor aside from Robb, who was keeping the booth for them. Hot Pie and the other boys found some people to dance with while Arya and Gendry danced together.
“Are they dating?” Jon asked, leaning close to shout in her ear so that she could hear.
“I’m not sure. They’ve been best friends since he moved up here but he’s the same age as me. I think she’s been in love with him for ages but neither of them acted on it, especially once he turned eighteen.”
“What about now, that she’s eighteen?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it. I’m pretty sure she’s the only family he has,” Sansa said as soft as she could with still being heard. “Wait, you don’t know any of this? What did you and Gendry talk about when you were working on the car?” Jon shrugged.
“The car, mostly. Little bit about being a foundling,” he admitted. Sansa kept her oh silent. She forgot that her and Arya weren’t the only thing that he and Gendry had in common.
“Ready for another round of drinks?” Arya asked, bounding up to them, clutching Gendry’s hand, though she looked completely steady on her feet.
“What number are you on?”
“Three for shots, two for drinks. Not counting the wine from dinner.”
“Yeah, all right,” Sansa agreed, towing Jon behind her as Arya towed Gendry.
It was a little after one when they all stumbled out. Arya’s tally marks only lasted so long until they became more squiggles, then she forgot to mark them at all. Sansa was happily tipsy, and she strongly suspected Jon was as well. They had succeeded in not being kicked out, though they had also saved the noisemakers until it was noisy enough that they wouldn’t really be considered a disruption.
“Are you good to drive her car?” Robb asked Gendry. Both of them had only had a handful of beers all night.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m going to drop them off too.” He motioned lamely to Hot Pie and the other guys who were laughing hysterically over something none of the rest of them caught.
“Nuh huh, you’re not dropping me off,” Arya proclaimed.
“Well you’re certainly not driving, unless you want Robb to drive you home,” Gendry told her.
“I’m staying at yours so you don’t need to drop me off.” Sansa saw Gendry’s eyes to helplessly to Robb’s.
“She’s eighteen. She can stay over if she wants,” Robb shrugged.
“I’ll take care of her,” Gendry said solemnly. Robb chuckled.
“We know you will. See you tomorrow. Make sure to drink lots of water,” he said to Arya, who responded with a sloppy salute.
“Best eighteenth ever!” Arya whooped before getting in the car.
“It’s going to be your only eighteenth,” Gendry muttered, helping her in.
“Shut up, you know what I meant.”
Sansa laughed as she climbed into the backseat, surprised when Jon crawled in beside her.
“Ew, no making out in my back seat,” Robb called back.
“We’re not. We’re cuddling,” Sansa informed him, lightly kicking his seat. His eyes found hers in the rearview mirror and Sansa rolled her eyes at him.
At the cottage, Robb said goodnight and quickly retreated to his room. Sansa stopped Jon from going up the stairs though.
“Wanna play cards for a little bit?” she asked, steering him back to the living room. She could hear the smile in his voice when he said sure.