Chapter Text
'My name is Snow'
'Bastard'
'Guilty. Of that at least'
- A conversation between Jon Snow and Cregan Karstark
-x-
The next day she could feel eyes on her.
She suddenly had two of her Fathers guards watching her, not shadowing her but keeping an eye from a distance. As she woke, broke her fast, went to lessons, she could see them a foot or two back, just watching.
She felt moderately offended that Jon (the glance she'd caught of him when she'd gone to her lessons and he his) didn't seem to have acquired any shadows. Either her Father trusted her less or worried about her more, or a combination.
Either way, it made the day difficult.
It made her uneasy, the guards, it reminded her of Kings Landing, of always being dogged by Cersei and Joffreys creatures, but she showed no unease, schooling her face, going to lessons, answering questions, and helping Arya with her penmanship. She didn't complain or whine, just acted as though she wasn't being watched.
Her and Jon had to act as siblings of course, they'd been foolish to think it would be easy to be indifferent to one another, but now this was forcing them to. Their Father knew the truth now, or a version of it at least, and hadn't said a word since dismissing them, though he'd clearly taken action.
She knew he'd accepted their story, so worried about their relationship he hadn't questioned them, or looked at some of the glaring holes their story held, just terrified at the idea of a Stark and Targaryen union once again.
What had her Father said?
'You don't' understand the danger a union between a Targaryen and Stark could bring'
Sansa did understand, she knew of Rhaegar and Lyanna, she knew it had plunged the country into war, but it had been more than that, there had been her Uncles murdered by the Mad King, it had been the brewing tension of a failing Targaryen monarchy, it had been more complex.
But she knew, Jon being outed as Targaryen, to which he'd need to be for them to be together as they should be, was what her Father feared, Jons heritage come to light, for surely that would see him marked for death.
Which meant either handing his nephew over to be killed (and she knew her Father would die first), or war.
Only one felt inevitable, and that scared her, and she knew that was what scared her Father too.
And so, she remained away from Jon for the day, they sat separately at luncheon, their lessons were split anyway, but she knew she needed to see him before days end, figure out how they went forward, figure out what to do next.
Really for all their planning, things had gone off the road rather quickly.
She knew it was because no matter any amount of planning in the world they'd never truly believed, or truly dared to hope they could travel through time to return to their family and fix all mistakes; they hadn't wanted the crushing pain of it not happening, which had felt the most likely scenario.
And so, yes, they'd prepared, they'd studied, they'd talked, but they hadn't confronted what it would really be like, how difficult, how strange.
So, here they were now, the day drawing to a close, Sansa feeling a little panicked to be without Jon … who would soothe her through her nightmares?
Maybe she'd have to soothe herself again, like she had in Kings Landing and then the Vale; the blanket stuffed in her mouth to muffle her screams, tears staining the linens, exhausted even after a full night's sleep.
It seemed she'd have no choice, as she headed to her rooms for the night, her two new guards standing outside, she nodded at them as she stepped inside and shut the door, and head them stand to guard.
Yes, there would be no leaving tonight.
She felt panic claw up her throat, trapped, trapped, trapped; like a pretty bird in a gilded cage all over again, she had to take several deep breaths, fling open her window, and take gulps of cold air outside, that comforted her; the cold, the North was only this cold, the stifling heat of the South couldn't reach her here.
Lady was some comfort, as she hopped onto the bed Sansa ran shaking hands through her fur, calming herself to be near her direwolf. She'd shadowed her today too, though twice she'd ran off and Sansa had seen her with Ghost, an odd jealousy forming that she couldn't be with Jon, as her direwolf was with his.
As Lady settled down, she busied herself, washing, preparing herself for bed. She'd have to catch Jon tomorrow. As she pulled on a long nightgown her hands shook, but she didn't feel close to collapse, instead she was just trembling, and not from the cold, as she approached her bed, reaching for Lady once again.
Just as she went to lay down, hands shaking, even in her child bedroom she felt trapped, like a prisoner once again.
She remembered Winterfell from her old life, how she'd spent so much time outside, trudging through the snow, breathing in the freezing air. She'd spend at least a few hours a day on the Castle Walls, just looking out to the North, taking in the vastness, the lack of walls.
Sometimes, Jon would take her outside of the castle, not even for a ride, just a long walk around the walls, just to be free of any restraints. She'd shivered but had always wanted to stay out longer, breathing in the North, breathing in freedom.
Here, she was trapped.
Until…
"Sansa!" She jumped as she heard her voice hissed from outside. She only managed to keep quiet by clapping a hand over her mouth to stop any shriek of surprise, though it was a close-run thing.
A quick glance at the door, and thankfully it remained closed, now she was thankful for the barrier. A quick 'shh' motion to Lady who wouldn't dream of yelping, regardless of the situation, a kiss to her forehead and she ran to her window.
Instantly her face split into a smile, hands steadying, as she found Jon, standing at the foot of her window, two levels down, smiling at her, dressed warm, holding out his arms, "Join me for a walk?" He whispered, and she had to stifle a giggle.
"I can't get down from here!" She whispered back, leaning out, but Jon shook his head.
"I'll catch you" There was no doubt in his voice, Sansa hesitated for only a second before she nodded. She quickly whirled away to secure a cloak over her nightgown, pull on her boots. She went to the window before turning back, quickly stuffing some pillows under her blankets, arranging them in hopes if anyone checked on her they'd be fooled.
And then she went to the window, to Jon, her Jon.
"You really will catch me?" She asked, she knew he would, but the drop looked intimidating.
She remembered once jumping into a snowdrift as a child, a dare from Arya that for once she'd agreed to, she'd broken an arm, and spent the next months terrified to go near any height.
Now, she revelled in being high up, perhaps she was like a bird.
Though she didn't like the idea of plummeting down.
"Of course" Jon insisted, looking mock offended she'd doubt him to which she giggled, but nodded.
How else would they see each other?
A deep breath, and she swung her legs over the frame, dangled them down, and then with a nod dropped down.
And of course, Jon caught her in his strong grip, his arms cradling her, as could almost have been predicted as a certainty.
"I missed you" Was all she could say as her face was level with his, for she had, so much so it had almost been an ache.
"I missed you too" She could see that ache in him too.
And then they kissed, and all was right, for now.
The Godswood was their refuge, tucked under the Heart Tree.
If anyone came looking at first glance they were hidden, it wouldn't hold up to further scrutiny, but Sansa hoped it wouldn't come to that.
They sat, tucked into one another, the ground cold but snow free, Jon had tucked her into his cloak, her head on his chest, knees to hers. They'd sat like this once or twice in the same spot in the future, though it had been much colder then.
Winter has come…
A white raven carrying a scroll had said that, but they'd already known.
"How was your day?" She asked in a whisper, it was cold out, her breath curdled, but she knew Jon wasn't bothered by the cold, and so cuddled her close, and she with his cloak was warm enough, and it was worth it either way.
It was quiet too, a hush over the sacred place, hence her whisper.
"Fine" Jon whispered back, "Lessons, stuff I already know, training where I have to play down my skill" He said it without arrogance, one of the many things Sansa loved about him, "You?"
"The same on the lessons" She said, tucking her head into Jon's chest, seeking that comfort, "It feels strange, being treated as a child again"
"I know" He agreed, "I saw you had some bodyguards"
"Mmm" She said with a nod, "Fathers keeping a watch on me"
"But not all the time" He said cheekily, and she rolled her eyes as he laughed, clearly pleased with himself for sneaking her away, "I guess we'll have to keep our meetings to this from now on"
"Its probably better" She said, and Jon nodded, "That way Father will be able to ignore what we told him"
"You think he will?" Jon asked, brow furrowed; worried, she knew, so was she.
"No" She said, because in every spare moment of the day she'd been thinking about her Father, of what he'd make of what they'd told him, of what he'd do, "He'll probably try and get me a match sooner"
"And if he does?" Jon asked, but he didn't sound angry, for she knew he'd simply never let that happen, she smiled, Jon without question could be relied on.
"I'll refuse of course" She said, "Father isn't the kind to force a daughter down the aisle"
"I know" Jon said with a nod, "But it might get difficult"
"I know" Sansa responded in kind, she knew her Father would be worried, worried about her attachment to Jon, she was just thankful he likely wouldn't tell her Mother, knowing what her fury would be, "I guess it will all come to a head eventually"
"Mmm" Jon replied this time, "When it does come to a head … you know I'd rather we keep my parentage secret"
She near rolled her eyes again, this had been a point of contention for months on what would happen if they returned, "And you know I think it will have to come out to stop the Lannister's taking power again and ruining Westeros"
"I know" He sounded mournful, Sansa knew he had no wish to be King of the Seven Kingdoms, but she also knew he'd liked being King in the North, would like to be it again, and felt awfully guilty for such thoughts.
There was a clear path they could both see, for Jon would never steal Robb of his birth right, but it frustrated Sansa endlessly that Jon would refuse his own.
What other path was there? They both knew the answer to that.
"You remember we talked about different paths?" She asked tentatively, because of course he knew, they'd debated this over and over, there had never been a winner, but she also knew Jon found what would be inevitable, hard to swallow.
"If the North goes independent…" He began, but Sansa cut him off, they'd been down this path before.
"Then Robb would be King after Father, which is fine, but the South would never allow it" Sansa continued, "So we need to overthrow them and put someone on the Throne"
"Stannis…" Jon began, and Sansa loved him for his honour, but it could be a nightmare sometimes, the Stark honour had its uses for their reputation, and she stood by it, as a Stark herself, but it shouldn't be what ended them.
Not again.
She wouldn't let it be what ended them.
Not again.
"Would not let us secede" She followed up, some annoyance in her voice, they'd been over this, but she'd known they'd have to again, Jon was stubborn, and had no desire to be a Southern King. "Nor would Renly, who'd be a dreadful King regardless"
"I know" Jon said with a sigh and a shake of his head, "But I don't want to go South, its not fair on you" That wasn't the only reason.
"I know" She replied, that warmed her, that it was a given that she'd be his Queen, when the truth came out and all was explained. She wouldn't be the best political alliance for him, he'd be better marrying Ariana Martell of Dorne or perhaps Margaery Tyrell, but she'd hardly be suggesting that.
They were married now after all.
He was her King, in more ways than one, she wasn't letting him go.
"What matters is saving Westeros and our family" She repeated, and Jon nodded. He was brooding she could see, but she had to drive this point home, the point he so hated, "And we can only do that with you as King"
"And you as Queen" He said, but it wasn't accusatory, but just for him to hammer home that she'd be by his side for all of it, if he had to be a Southern King, he'd need her as his Queen.
'When I'm Queen I will make them love me'
Hadn't she said that as a child? A foolish child, but that belief she remained steadfast by. Fear could achieve much, but love so much more.
"Exactly" She said, and looked up at Jon then, a sad smile on her features, "I know you don't want to"
"I don't want to rule in the South" There, the acknowledgment he'd been happy as King in the North, would be again, but it wouldn't; couldn't, work that way this time.
"It's your birth right "Sansa whispered, "Yours, above anyone else"
He nodded. He didn't mention his own personal happiness, Jon would sacrifice to save others without question, but he worried about her, hated the idea of ruling over Southern courts, worried about what would happen after.
"She'll still come" Jon said, there it was, "She'll want her Iron Throne"
"Yes" Sansa said with a nod, the Dragon Queen, who'd sent them demands to bend the knee as she'd crossed the narrow sea, all which they'd refused. Daenerys Targaryen, Jons only living relative, bar Maester Aemon now. "But we'll need her dragons, and as a Targaryen…"
"That's just a theory" Jon said, but that was a topic for another day, as he tipped his head back, "How can I rule the South well when I despise it for how they abandoned us? What they did to you?"
"You will" Sansa said, and the confidence in her voice was so full Jon managed a strained smile, "You were an amazing King in the North, you'll do just as well as King of Westeros"
There was nothing to be said after that, as Jon tipped his head back and pulled Sansa close, and they cuddled together, in the cold, but revelling in being with each other.
And planning for the future, this had always been the path Sansa knew they would need to go down. The Lannister's would have to be removed, and the North would not secede without consequence, too much consequence.
Jon, she knew could unite the people, he had the right family, the right name, a Stark Queen, he'd have the armies, in the North, the Riverlands, the Vale, the right reason, the right temperament, and he'd be good at it, with that she had no doubt.
He would be King; she'd make sure of it.
Though, there was much to do first. Starting with letting Jon Arryn die.