Summary: AU how much different things could have been, had Ned shared with his wife and family of Jon's true parentage. Jon is raised as Ned's son to all but to Catelyn and their children. When old enough to understand the importance of keeping Jon's heritage a secret, Ned and Catelyn would explain it to them. They would never reveal who the parents were, only that Jon was an adopted relative from a far off family. So what happens when a young Sansa falls for a handsome broody Jon Snow, their love to be tested by King Joffrey's desire for the young maiden… Jon is sent to the wall by the king only to take arms with Robb in the war to come, to save his country and get back his love. This takes place a couple years later then when the series' first starts out, so all the characters are a little older. This is obviously an AU reality…

Fire and Ice: a different world

Chapter One: Something new… something blue

Jon felt a searing pain in his shoulder, the dull wooden blade had hit his shoulder with great force. He tried to not take offense to Robb's laughs, as well as the others watching in the training yard. Jon looked up to see her face on the balcony of her room, her red hair flowing in the wind. For a moment he did not see his cousin, but a vision of beauty… an angel. Another sharp pain in his back, his distraction had cost him another blow from Robb's fake sword.

Sansa had smiled down at him before turning to walk away back into her room, where she was to be working on her broideries. She smiled as she heard Robb question Jon's distractions lately. She could not deny she found Jon incredibly handsome. Especially the way he would stop and stare at her blankly, as if in a daze, whenever she would walk out to watch him. She too had been criticized from old nan about being distracted. If I can't make a proper lady of you, how will you ever find a suitor for your hand? Old nan would always nag at her.

Sansa smiled before laying down her broidery, she wanted to tease her brothers if she could. It wasn't only her brothers that she aimed to tease. Old nan tried to call for her, but ever since she had turned 17 years of age she had become unrulier. She had spent so much time trying to be proper and a lady, that she finally wanted to be mischievous. Or perhaps Arya was starting to rub off on her. Sansa walked out to the court yard her blue dress flying behind her as she hid at the nearest post and picked up a handful of pebbles. With great force she chucked several of them at the boys in the training yard.

"Fuck!" Robb yelled first a hand flying to his head.

"Arya?" Jon asked out grabbing his shoulder where one pegged him.

"Damn it! Stop already!" Theon hollered groping the back of his head.

"It's not me!" Arya yelled snickering off where she had been practicing with her bow and arrow. She too began to laugh as she saw Sansa hiding throwing the little clumps of dirt and rock. When the boys spotted Sansa they dropped their swords to chase her, "Run!"

Sansa tried to hold back laughter as she lifted her skirt to run, she was taller now, nearly as tall as the boys and she had a great distance lead. She ran as fast as her long legs would carry her. The boys split up to find her. She hid as quietly in the stables as she could when she heard Jon walk in, he looked around for Robb or Theon but couldn't find them. She tried to hold back a small laugh covering her mouth, but he had heard it.

"Gotcha!" he said poking his head into the stall she had been hiding. She tried to run past her but his hand caught her arm, the other tickling her side. This caused her to fall knocking him over. Together both Jon and Sansa fell laughing into the hay on the ground. She stopped laughing and smiling as she looked up at him, his hand on her waist. His smile faded to a look she hadn't seen… they watched each other for a moment, something happening they couldn't quite explain.

"Jon?" Sansa?" Robb asked jogging into the stable. Sansa quickly pushed Jon off, he jumped up, helping her up as well, "there you guys are!"

"You guys found me, good job," Sansa smiled at her brother and Jon. She patted the hay off her dress as she began to leave but then Robb started throwing handfuls of hay at her. She squeaked before picking up hay herself and throwing it at them.

Sansa brushed her hair delicately, careful to not snag or damage her long red hair. She was startled by the presence behind her, after jumping she smiled through the mirror at her mother. Catelyn took pride in Sansa the most, for she reminded her of herself when she was young. Catelyn took the brush from Sansa's hand and sat behind her, gently stroking the brush through her groomed hair.

"You are so lovely Sansa," her mother swooned at her first born daughter, "Robb had stolen my heart the moment he was born, handsome little potato, Ned thought I'd stopped loving him in favor of Robb, but it was you who came out perfect in every way. I love all your siblings of course, but you my dear, you have such potential."

"Mother," Sansa stroked a lock of her hair, watching her pale fingers slide down her hair, for a moment she saw Jon's face smiling at her through the hay floating between them, "what of Jon?"

"What do you mean?" Catelyn was slightly stunned by this question.

"Do you love him?" Sansa did not look up. The room was dim as the sun was nearly set, and dinner would soon be served.

"In my own way I try," she spoke softly, "for a while I was convinced your father had taken bed of another woman. I wondered if he made it all up so that he could hide his sins, but the older Jon got the more I could see Lyanna in him. The dark hair and dark eyes. I did not see any Ned in him, nor much Stark for that matter. But it has been hard to pretend to loathe the bastard of Ned Stark, and secretly care for my nephew through blood. Sometimes I forget it's not his fault we are burdened with such a lie. I often wonder who the father is, as Ned will not speak of it. I sometimes wonder if perhaps he is Robert's son, and Lyanna simply didn't want him raised by that brute."

"So you don't love him?" Sansa stopped stroking her hair and looked up into the mirror in front of her, watching as her mother pinned her hair up beautifully in a northern style.

"Not in the way I love my children," Catelyn said softly, "if I were to love this boy, people would suspect that he wasn't Ned's Bastard. It's a part we must all play Sansa, I do not wish harm on him… I just simply can't replace his mother."

"I understand," Sansa said watching herself in the mirror for a moment.

"Finish getting dressed, our feast is to begin any moment," Catelyn kissed her daughter's hair and left her room. Sansa waited for a small while wondering what her beauty would cost her, she was old enough to understand she was already pushing her youth, she was long due to be sold to the highest bidder as a bride. She walked to her bed to look at the gowns sprawled out waiting for her when she noticed something at the corner of her eye.

She saw not far down Jon watching her window as he sharpened his sword. He had watched her a lot for the last couple months, and she couldn't deny she watched him for much longer than that. When he realized she was standing there looking down at him, catching him in the act of watching for her. He quickly looked down and turned around to finish his task, hoping that she would not notice him peering at her.

Sansa smiled as she turned to choose a dress, she decided to go with a green dress that had beautiful gold embroidery. A gift from one of the lords in admiration of her beauty. Many gifts had been sent to her in the hopes that she would choose one of the northern Lord's son's to wed. She quickly dressed before heading down to the dining chambers where visiting Lord's would be waiting to feast. When Sansa walked in everyone gasped and were in awe of her, standing up and bowing as she walked by. She tried to fake a smile, but it grew harder knowing they all wanted to make her their prize.

"Jon," Sansa said softly as she passed him, catching him off guard; her eyes lifted from the floor to meet his for a moment. Her ice blue eyes searching his dark warm ice. Her eyes cold as winter's chill beautiful as fresh snow over a frozen lake, his eyes dark and warm like the embers of a fire.

For a moment they collided in a beautiful chaos that neither of them could understand. She could not stop, not if she wanted to keep her thoughts to herself. Sansa took her seat at the head of the table in-between Robb and Bran. They were seated oldest too youngest. Sansa spent the night thanking the men who complimented her and lavished her in gifts. Catelyn looked at Ned, both knowing it would soon be time that Sansa took a husband. They wanted to prolong as much as possible from wedding her too young.

"May I please be excused," Sansa asked Ned who looked over at his eldest daughter. He nodded his reply, allowing her to quickly leave the chamber. She left the dimly let chamber to refresh herself outside in the cold. Winter was nearing every day, but Winterfell still remained beautiful and peaceful.

"You look beautiful, tonight, as I'm sure you know," Jon said softly, he had already been out there for a while. She was surprised as she had not noticed him leave, she then wondered if that was the perk to being someone's bastard… invisibility. She wished to be invisible. Not the pretty eye piece for lords to fight over.

"Jon," Sansa said softly, her hand to her chest, "you startled me…"

"I did not mean for that to happen, my apologies," he said standing up from the large boulder he had been sitting on. He had been watching the stars for a while.

"Thank you," she said watching him carefully.

"For what?" he asked walking closer to her.

"For your compliment," she smiled weakly. For some reason his presence made her feel nervous.

"I was merely stating the truth milady," he said gently his dark curls falling in front of his face as he looked down.

"Would you like to walk with me?" Sansa asked, uncertainty in her voice.

"Aye, that'd be nice," he smiled a half smile before following behind her. They walked for a while in silence out into the gardens of Winterfell, "here…"

"What is it?" Sansa asked, turning around to face Jon. He handed her a blue and white rose. She gently reached out to touch its soft pedals first.

"I know it's nothing, compared to the gifts you receive…"

"No… it's lovely, truly," she smiled a small smile, her eyes peering into his as she reached out to collect it. Before he could warn her she had tried to grasp it, cutting her finger on a thorn.

"Sansa, are you alright?" he said as he watched the flower fall to the floor, red droplets straining the fresh white snow fall beside it. He quickly took her hand in his to observe it.

"It's alright, it's just a cut," she said wincing. She found herself stunned when his lips gently rested on her finger tips.

"Thank you, Jon," she said softly, her eyes never leaving his face.

"Milady," his eyes lifted from her hand to her eyes.

"Jon," Sansa said softly, moving towards him. He bent down picking the rose back up, plucking off the thorns that could cause her delicate skin harm. She took it from his hand silently, as he stood so close before her. Their eyes locked on each other, never wavering, as if they had finally found what had been missing. His hand gently stroked her face, and to his surprise she did not pull away. Her hand gently reached up and met his face in return, small snowflakes landing on them, landing in his dark hair and clinging to her eye lashes.

"Sansa," Jon said before leaning down to leave a kiss upon her lips. When he pulled back he found her eyes searching his once more. Reality finally hit him on what he had done and he backed away from her, "I'm sorry Sansa, I shouldn't have done that. That was inappropriate."

"Jon?" she asked both hurt and confused. But he quickly turned to leave, unable to stay there any longer. Sansa stood there for a while staring at the rose he had given her, confused on what just had happened. More so about the feelings that had been stirring inside her whenever she saw him, and the fire in her stomach she felt when his lips met hers.

Sansa was in her room, looking at the blue and white flower now growing in the small vase she had placed it. She laid in her bed with her furs pulled high as she touched her lips, remembering the soft warmth of Jon's lips on hers. Her pretend bastard brother… he had grown from such a gangly little boy to a regal young man. She was not the first or only girl to notice this, many in Winterfell had fallen smitten with both Robb and Jon.

"Sansa?" the deep voice of her father Lord Eddard Stark broke her attention.

"Father?"

"Aye," he said walking in and sitting beside her bed post, "I wanted to inform you a letter was received tonight. The king and queen will be joining us this time."

"Oh," Sansa said, remembering the tales of Prince Joffrey she had heard of. The last time they came to visit a couple years prior, Ned had Informed Robert he wasn't ready to be the Hand in a letter before they even arrived. A Raven had come to Ned in his dreams to warn him of what treachery would await if he were to accept the King's invitation at that time. So in anger the King never visited, "what does that have to do with me?"

"The King has heard of whispers of the beauty of Winterfell, Joffrey is to take a wife and he thinks that Joffrey may want to choose you," Ned's voice was soft, obviously not wanting to have this conversation, "I've also heard him to be a cruel boy, you must be careful when he is here."

"If I marry him, I become a queen?" Sansa asked, her eyes lowered to the ground. A few years ago when she was more child like this would have seen amazing to her, but now she was a young woman and knew what marriage would entail. She feared her heart belonged to another now… so how could she marry anyone.

"Beautiful rose," Ned said spotting the blue rose by her window.

"It was a gift," she said softly, "from a foolish boy."

"A foolish boy you say? Well a gift like that is sincerer then any gift one could buy," Ned said kissing his daughters red hair, "any boy would be foolish around you."

"I wish it weren't so," she pouted, wishing she could be more boy like and free spirited like Arya who was already as good a swordsman as her brothers.

"Beauty can be both a curse and a blessing. Goodnight my little Sansa," he said delicately, "this week we prepare for the visit of the king."

Authors note:

Let me know what you think so far of this beginning! This was a quick rough draft I wrote last night. I am looking for a beta if anyone would like to proof read! =D