The Lemon Club was established by Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell, daughter of assassinated army general, Lord Eddad Stark and UN attorney general Lady Catelyn Stark, who befell the same fate as her dear husband. Shortly before the war for the dawn, Jon’s aunt Daenerys Targaryen former Queen of the seven kingdoms and political activist, sacrificed her life by stepping in front of a tank that was headed for Winterfell. Commander Nights King was a blood thirsty man who would destroy anything or anyone in his path for the planet’s natural resources even if that meant doing irreparable damage to it.
This caused a global uprising which saw the coming together of able bodied fighters from every corner of Planetos, which lead to the defeat of commander Nights King and his army. This left Jon Targaryen, the only child of Rhaegar and Lyanna Targaryen, who died in a a plane crash when he was an infant as the sole heir to the Iron throne. But Jon being Jon, elected to remain king in the north. Electing a newly legitimized Gendry Baratheon to rule as king in the south, with Arya Stark as his queen. The Lemon Club held meetings once a week, and was designated as “quality time” for those who played an important part in the war to take some time out to catch up and reminisce about the past.
The great hall was dimly lit, icicles dripping on the windowsill, the smell of freshly baked lemon cakes lofting through the air. Ghost whimpered, nuzzling his head into Jon’s leg.
“He must be missing someone your grace.” The little bear said giggling to herself.
Reaching down to stroke Ghost’s back, Jon shot the lady of Bear Island a look of annoyance. Lady Lyanna Mormont had been playing this game for weeks now. Ever since Sansa yelled at the Manderlay banner men to shut up, after Jon’s failed attempt at getting them to listen to his plans for the building of new watchtowers around Winterfell castle.
The little bear just wouldn’t let go of the idea that there was something more going on beneath the surface with these two. Wylla the cook brought out lady Sansa’s favorite, lemon cakes, but she was late for the Lemon Club meeting again. Ever since her sort of uncle, Lord Petyr Baelish announced her engagement to Robin Arryn, she had been distant. Lyanna began to notice King Jon’s already broody moods become progressively worse. He seldom cracked that charming little smirk of his anymore, not even at Lyanna’s jokes. Something was wrong.
Lady Brienne, Tormund, Ser Davis, and Podrick had now joined them at the dinner table. Jon requested that Thormund seat next to him in order to avoid further tension between he and Brienne. He obliged and dug straight into the lemon cakes, scoffing them down one after the other. Brienne shuddered in utter revulsion. In turn he looked at her with blatantly lustful eyes.
It was these non-verbal interactions between them that really turned him on.
All eyes shifted away from the Brienne and Tormund Show, and to the double doors of the great hall that had just been thrust open. It was her, the ever elusive Lady Sansa. Wearing an emerald green off the shoulder top, that showed just enough cleavage for every man in the room to lose their breath, and skinny jeans that caressed every curve of her shapely bottom. Her pale face was streaked with dry tears, and her crystal blue eyes encapsulated in ribbons on red and fatigue. Seven hells! Lyanna thought. You don’t get bags like that from joy and happiness over becoming the new Lady of the Eyrie.
Without hesitation King Jon shot out of his seat and bowed to greet Lady Sansa. “My Lady!” He said, almost shouting in the process. What an odd gesture everyone thought. The King bowing to Lady Sansa? Who in that moment seemed as baffled as everyone else. She awkwardly curtsied and took her seat beside him.
She poked and prodded at her lemon cakes, with no real interest in eating them. To break the tension in the room Ser Davos decided to play master of ceremonies.
“So Tormund tell us about your morning hunt.” Davos said encouragingly, getting to work on his third slice of lemon cake.
“Yeah,I caught eight stags this morning…each one big and rippling, with firm tender flesh..” “After all we only serve the freshest cuisine at the Hardhome bar and grill.” He smirked in Brienne’s direction, and she quickly darted her head to the side. Podrick squirmed in his seat, itching to tell everyone of the new combat moves Lady Brienne had taught him. Brienne was a distinguished and decorated ex-marine, who could put any of her peers of the opposite sex to shame.
“That is quite impressive Ser Tormund?..but today I learned how to disarm the enemy.” Pod’s heart swelled with pride. When all of sudden Tormund reached across the table, put one arm around his neck ,and with his other arm he reached for a knife. Willing the intern to put his lessons to the test.
“Unhand him at once!” Lady Brienne protested.
“Quit it!” Jon concurred. “You two are in the presence of ladies, so calm it down before you end up having a slumber party with ghost tonight.” Tormund let go of Pod, and conversation resumed as normal. Jon noticed that ghost was no longer by his side and scanned the room for the domesticated direwolf. Right then he noticed that ghost had cosied up to Sansa, and he longed to unspool her mind. He could never read her. The dainty girl he once knew who would walk around Winterfell with her head in the clouds, resenting him and what he represented.
Lyanna looked over at Sansa, who was now fiddling with her cellphone and had given up on her lemon cakes eons ago. Unaware that the little bear was watching her, she began to feed her cakes to ghost who happily obliged.
“Lady Sansa, you seem troubled.” Lyanna said. Leaning over just enough so that Sansa could hear her but nobody else could.
Sansa plastered on a smile. “Things with Robin have fallen apart. I caught the bastard texting his ex-girlfriend.” “He’s been carrying on with that Sandsnake whore for months!” She said through gritted teeth, careful not to raise her voice too much.
“What on earth did you just say!?” the little bear growled.
King Jon had to know about this.
After the meeting was adjourned, Lyanna pulled Jon to a side and informed him of the unfortunate news. Unfortunate for Robin that is. Jon was livid, ranting and raving about what Lady Stark deserved.
“That ungrateful fool Robin. Who in their right mind would hurt a beautiful delicate woman such as Sansa Stark. Well…not counting her ex-fiance’s Joffrey, or Ramsay.” He frowned, digging his fists into his desk.
“She deserves to be respected, and loved, and cared for in every way. Nothing less.” Jon proclaimed.
“Look, I know you two haven’t had the best relationship in the past, with her resenting you for surviving that bomb attack that took her dear brother Robb away. But lady Sansa cares about you…more than she realizes. So it’s time for you to do something about your relationship with her” The teenager smirked.
“Jon, find out where you stand with her and you won’t soon regret it, trust me I know. Got to dash, Rickon and I have a hot date tonight.” She winked, giving him a triumphant smile.
Hoping that her words would inspire the king to do something about his feelings, Lyanna left him in his officer to ponder her words.
“I got it! I’ll write her a letter.” Jon was quite pleased with himself for coming up with such an ingenious why of getting his feelings out. What could possibly go wrong he thought.
So he began to write.
You are perfect. The flame haired woman I have admired since she was a girl is without flaw. Your strength, wit, charm, and grace is perfect. No man is worthy of you, not even me. I am eternally humbled by your presence and ability to bring out the best in everyone you encounter. Never allow this cruel world to change you. I would be the happiest man on earth if you were mine, and I will be yours from this day until my last day.
What the hell was I thinking, he scolded himself, pacing up and down his office. He crossed the words out, and crumpled up the pink piece of paper he had written his feelings on, before throwing it in the bin. Jon was so rattled that he completely missed. The paper instead wedged itself between the bin and his desk, and so the scrunched up letter just sat there waiting to be discovered.