It was only one time.

Well, he only spilled his seed inside of her one time. The other four times he gave in he made sure to pull out. He was half wolf that night, nipping at her neck as she clawed his back. He found he liked her best on all fours, but he'd had her in nearly every way he could think of. In the morning he hardly had that excuse. It wasn't the full moon that did it. They slept in and he was well rested, he was just weak. Her naked body looked so very pretty soaked in sunlight.

He should have told Sam to brew her some moontea, but he didn't exactly feel comfortable with the conversation. It would have been prudent, it would have stopped any seed from taking root. But there were side effects of that too, according to Sam, it wasn't a perfect solution. He would not poison his wife with tansy. He didn't want Sansa to drink anything that may endanger future pregnancies. And it had only been the one time.

Time marched on and his wife (for she truly was now, in all ways) accepted that it was a one — well, five — time only thing.

"Perhaps it would be best if you slept in your own bed for the next while," Jon said on a day she was looking particularly comely, every bit a Northern maid in a grey dress with a braid over her shoulder.

"Alright," Sansa sniffed.

It only lasted a few hours before he made his way to her chambers, not giving a damn what the castle thought of him knocking on his young bride's door past midnight. Surely they had seen the marks on her neck by now, for her furs and hair did not always manage to cover them up and everyone's eyes were always on Sansa.

"Can I help you, my lord?" she asked with a curtsy, the picture of courtesy. As though she didn't now that she's won this game and all the rest. The more he tried to stop the harder it became to keep himself from touching her.

He kissed her like he'd wanted to at dinner, like he'd been imagining as he took himself in hand and tried to go to sleep. It wasn't the same... and she was just down the hall. She softened in his arms and moved aside to let him in.

She wasn't good at this game either. Not really. She was just better at it than him.

They pay no attention to the late hour, nor do they concern themselves with how tired they will be at breakfast. They kissed and kissed and Jon told himself that's all they'll do, but then she took his hand in hers and brought it to her between her legs. He didn't give her what she really wanted, he managed to hold himself back from that, but did give her release.

It's was only a matter of time before he gave in again.

But before he had the chance to, Sam called him in to the library where Sansa was waiting. She looked down at her lap at her folded hands with a small smile on her face. It was the same face she made when Rickon did something especially adorable. He wondered what was going on until he sat down in his chair and looked over at Sam's somber face.

It had only been one time.

"I'm with child," Sansa said, a smug smile on her face.

Jon said nothing.

"I'd say two months along," Sam said. "She seems to be in good health."

Sansa put her hand on her belly and sighed happily. As if this was a good thing. As if it was worth the risk of her dying to bring this new life into the world. Childbirth was a dangerous business and he could not protect her from the birthing bed with a sword. She would be a mother only a few months after her sixteenth name day.

"We shall send for a midwife," Jon said finally. "And perhaps a more experienced maester to assist you." His wife and unborn child deserved the very best. People who had delivered dozens if not hundreds of babies. To give them the best shot.

Sam nodded. "I'll do that straight away. And she'll have Gilly to help her."

"She already has been. She's the one who told me what it was, when I was so sick in the mornings," said Sansa.

Gilly had two children, both delivered in much worse conditions than his own wife would ever have to. And Gilly was perfectly happy, and she was as young and healthy that first time as Sansa was now. Perhaps things would be like that for them too. He hoped he could be so lucky.

He already was pretty damn lucky. How many people in his position could say they'd married for love? A child was a blessing, one he never thought he'd have, but he knew the value of what he already had.

"Jon, you do know how chance works, don't you?"

Jon sighed. "Of course I do." Jon was better at sums than both Sansa and Sam.

"So you know that if the odds are one in ten that a woman would die in childbirth, the odds are in her favour she'll live?"

"Aye," Jon said gruffly, rolling his eyes.

There was no need to patronize him. Not for showing concern for his wife. Was that not his duty as her husband? Even if he had not married her, she was under his protection. He owed it to their father, to their house, and to their unborn child as well. For if Sansa were to die like so many other woman before her had, their heir would grow up without a mother's love just as he once had.

"And you know that the odds are much better for Sansa than they would seem. She's not going to give birth in a manger, is she? She'll have people who know what to do." Sam's voice was annoyingly patient, like it was Jon who was being irrational. Didn't Sam realize that the odds would be much better if Jon had held himself back that night? That he was only mad at himself?

Jon grumbled his agreements anyway, for Sam was factually right and he was being paranoid. More than that, it would not do to stress out his wife in her precarious position.

They broke the news to Rickon at bedtime, which had ended up being a colossal mistake. He had just calmed down for the night and then he was jumping on the bed and asking about names. Sansa made no efforts to get him to settle down. She did nothing but indulge him, the pair of them had giggled like co-conspirators.

In their bed afterwards, Sansa was still smiling. She must have gotten used to having such a brooding husband and his badly disguised worry no longer phased her, or perhaps she was just that pleased with the news. She was acting as though this was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her.

She took his hand in hers. He was about to tell her to stop — that it was more dangerous than ever now that she's carrying his child, that he doesn't want to disturb the baby — but she brought his hand to her stomach instead.

There was no possible way he could feel the baby kick, but something stirred in him anyway. He smiled genuinely for the first time all day, and Sansa's face lit up. His wife really did put up with a lot. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

He really was going to get everything he wanted, wasn't he? He supposed he'd just have to get used to it.