Authors note: This takes off after the show finale of season 6, they are not actual siblings. I am not writing based off the book; I do not write like George R Martin so do not expect it to sound like his writing at all. This is pure made up fiction in my head for fun because I think they have some great chemistry. I haven't written in about four or five years so this will be rushed and sloppy as I try to get to the fun parts without missing the mild build up. There will be eventually some MA material in the second or third chapter. So if your under 18 please do not read. I will proof read and spell check on another comp but I have to post it so I can copy and paste later. So just enjoy the story without getting hung up on the junk lol!

Chapter updates: the more reviews I get the more motivation fuels a quicker turnover time for a chapter. 1-2 days if I'm feeling inspired, which reviews definitely provoke a inspired feeling lol!

Disclaimer: I do not own the material, only the creative journey I am making up with these fun characters. I do not own the image used as its icon either I picked it from the Internet in which I couldn't find a name, so credit to them and their awesome work.

WARNING:

THIS IS NOT BASED OFF THE BOOKS BUT THE SHOW. IN THE SHOW NED HAS RED HAIR AND SO WHEN I SAY JON LOOKS NOTHING LIKE HIM THAT IS WHY. I DID NOT READ THE BOOKS SO I DONT KNOW or care about THOSE DISCRIPTIONS. So do not mention this again please. If it is truly too much for you, or you are knitpicky please kindly move on to another story.

Chapter One: Control

The nights grew longer and colder, as the north began to prepare for the war beyond the wall, leaving an uneasy feeling for the Northerners especially Jon. They were now faced with the reality of more than just one threat. They had the threat of Kings Landing being ruled by Cersei, after the death of the young King Tommen, and then the main threat waiting north of the wall: White Walkers. To be called King of the North was a large burden for Jon Snow, he feared so many things, but knew he had to be strong for Sansa, for his missing siblings, for his people, and for himself.

He watched Sansa; who by day was good at playing the game at hand, but at night he watched her sit quietly for hours by herself. He observed her carefully as she watched her reflection on the frozen pond by the Godswood. It was as if she was trying to find the girl she once was before they broke her. The thought haunted him. She played the part so well in the day that she even had him fooled, but at night he could see how far the scars ran to her core.

His scars ran deep as well; but he felt he couldn't hide them as well day or night as Sansa seemed to. On the other hand Sansa felt it was Jon who hid his scars and demons better then herself. He couldn't help but take joy and fear in how close they had become since they defeated the Bastard Bolton months prior. The news of The King in the North travelled fast to Kings Landing and even to the Dragon queen, who had sent him a letter requesting a peaceful meeting. Having heard Tyrian Lannister was with her as her Hand, Sansa had talked Jon into agreeing, knowing the imp's kindness and rationales would mean the Dragon Queen would be a good ally in the battle of the thrones as well as the battle to come across the walls.

So much had taken over their lives, but in the end, they had each other. Jon couldn't deny that he wouldn't rather have anyone replace her. Sometimes these feelings made him feel guilty, because he never really felt like they were siblings. Jon felt ashamed knowing that it would probably disappoint his father. Jon was distracted again by a soft breeze that tossed her red hair like fire in the sky, the pale moon lit up her pale skin and almost looked as if it were glowing. He tried to shake it off, but then she looked over to him catching his stare. She didn't look away. Why was he mesmerized by the vision before him? Was it out of family love? Or did she remind him of his past love? Or perhaps was it their ever growing connection. He didn't know what, but something about her was consuming him until all he could think about was being near her.

"Jon," Sansa said softly.

"Sansa," he tried to sound unshaken by his devious thoughts. They were wrong. She was his sister, half-sister or not, it was not okay, he wasn't a Lannister.

"Will you come sit, Jon?" Sansa smiled slightly, pain still deep in her blue eyes. Jon walked to her and crouched beside her. He tried to hide his eyes to the snow covered ground but somehow they kept finding their way back to her face. Her perfect gentle face. Her hair blew gently in every direction and he found himself involuntarily brushing some hair from her face, what surprised him was she didn't move but she watched him back. How could something feel so wrong and so right at the same time.

"Are you okay Sansa," his accent, his voice, mesmerized her. Growing up she never saw him as a brother, she saw him as the outsider her mother saw. He was a Stark to her now, but he didn't feel like a brother, more like a childhood friend. She couldn't deny he was handsome, regal even, but he looked nothing like their father. Ned's red hair and broad chin. Jon was more refined with dark and light features… he was the perfect combination of strong and kind. Or perhaps that's just what she made herself believe to lesson the guilt she felt, her mother had always thought Jon looked most like Ned, but Sansa just couldn't or wouldn't see it.

"You're here now Jon, I'm fine," she tried to comfort him, for if he knew her dark thoughts, he'd probably never look at her the same. She couldn't deny her scars ran so deep that she forgot who she was. She was not the same little girl that Winterfell had watch grow up, for the woman she had become was dark with night terrors that lasted night and day. Because of this she had Jon teach her secretly how to defend herself should any man ever again think he could hurt her. She also secretly took archery lessons since Jon refused to let her mess around with a sword, "Jon..."

"Yes, Sansa," he replied softly, she couldn't deny she loved the way he said her name. For a while she had been bitter and cold to him, not because of him, but because she was bitter to the world. But his kindness and never wavering loyalty refueled her Stark fire that had been extinguished by cruel men.

"Never mind," she didn't want to tell him that she loved him, because she herself didn't know what kind of love it was yet. This made her feel ashamed. He was supposed to be her brother, "tomorrows feast... what is it for?"

"We have some important Lord visitors," Jon tried to not sound disappointed, he didn't want to feel disappointed, "you should get some sleep..."

"Will you see me back?" she asked with a weak smile.

"Of Course Sansa, always," he said kissing her forehead trying to not let any strange thoughts fix in his mind. Together arm in arm they found her way to her chambers. He kissed her hand good night and left for his own chambers.

Jon tossed and turned unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. He heard a couple of gentle taps at his door that had him sitting up quickly, he watched for a moment before speaking, "enter..."

"Jon..." Sansa trailed off quietly as she walked in and closed the door behind her. She walked to the edge of his bed baring a sad look, exhaustion and fear laced her blue eyes. She wore a delicate grey silk night gown that clung to her adult curves, he tried ignoring these thoughts. Sansa delicately hugged the post of his bed trying to find the words to say, "I don't want to be alone... I can't stand the terrors that play in my minds eyes."

"Aye, Of course," was all he could manage to get out.

"Are you sure you're okay with this, Jon? For years now I've never had a safe night's sleep... but I feel safe with you," she said still hugging the post, uncertain on if this was appropriate or not. Many siblings share a bed right? It didn't mean anything. It was innocent.

"No one will hurt you, I promise," Jon vowed watching her defeated face. He hated seeing her feel so fragile, when he knew how strong she was. She climbed into his bed beside him trying not to touch him. She could still feel the warmth radiating from his strong body, so close to hers. His skin radiated heat like a wolfs, probably like her fathers… and all of the great Stark Lords.

She had never felt before what was now stirring deep in her stomach, a strange feeling in the pit of her torso… it ached and yearned, what was it? She closed her eyes listening to the sound of his breathing and slipped off into her first peaceful sleep. He couldn't sleep though, not with the dangerously disturbing thoughts running through his mind. It felt like forever that he had watched her sleep. Sansa had rolled onto her side, her arm and hand resting on his bare chest, her leg propped up over his.

Jon tried to push the thoughts out of his mind that were over whelming his senses, his morals, and waking the nerves in his body. He reached over, gently tracing her face with one finger, reaching down her arm to the hand resting on his chest. She moved her leg higher up almost like she was stretching, causing another wave of signals firing through his body triggering his senses. This was a bad idea... this wasn't okay. He kept thinking about how even though she was only his half-sister that this wasn't an okay way to feel, she was beautiful, but that doesn't make it alright. There were plenty of beautiful maidens in Winterfell, in Westeros even.

"Jon..." she said in her sleep, "I lov..."

"What?" he asked, as her words mumbled and trailed off. He realized she was talking in her sleep and found himself taken back by it. 'Why is she saying my name in her sleep? Does she feel what stirs in me also? Have I passed on my disease to her… are now we sick like the Lannister's? Targaryen's married siblings to preserve the purity in their bloodline... but we aren't...' his thoughts trailed off, and he finally found himself falling asleep as well. His dreams he found harder to control, as much as he managed to try over his body.

The sun rose glistening over the beautiful snow covered Winterfell, birds chirped at the windows waking them. Sansa stretched out and opened her eyes to see that she was sprawled out over Jon, he didn't seem to be awake yet so she tried to quietly slip herself off of him. This woke the Wolf King. He looked over at her before she could sneak off.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked her, she smiled and nodded yes.

"I actually feel as if I got sleep, thank you Jon," she said sitting up and smiling at him, "I should go get ready for our celebration tonight."

"It's most likely the final one before we go to war again, we've spent as much time as we can rebuilding," Jon sat up as well to talk to her. He couldn't help but notice that she looked even more tempting with her bed hair, and the sun shining off her dress drawing attention to her breast. Jon tried to glance back up but she noticed. She smiled, but she didn't say anything to avoid embarrassing him, or making things uncomfortable.

"Can you promise me something, Jon," she knew it was a long shot, he just nodded at her trying to keep his eyes on her face, which wasn't any less tempting, "can you stay out of the battle this time? Can you stay in the back..."

"Sansa," he started to shake his head, stopping her before she could finish a request he couldn't honor.

"No, Jon, listen please... you don't know how it felt to watch you during the battle for Winterfell against Ramsay. I thought I lost you for a minute there, it found me by surprise, completely unbearable. This time I don't have any extra backup plan, or any way to do anything. I can't stand the idea of feeling helpless again. You are all I have left in this world," Sansa's words seemed to stab Jon in the heart leaving a dull ache. He never wanted to be king, he never wanted to be in charge, he was good at fighting... the idea of not leading his men tore at him, but so did the idea of hurting his Sansa. His Sansa... what a funny thought. He hadn't realized until that moment, that he saw her as such. He just reached out with his hand to gently stroked her porcelain cheek letting out a huge sigh.

"I don't want to make any promises I cannot keep, but what I can promise is I will always be back for you," he said staring intently in her eyes, " I swore I'd protect you, I meant it."

"How can you promise even that, Jon?" Sansa didn't know what to say, the idea hurt her that he could leave her. Battles are not won over night, and he'd never take her with him and risk her life. He'd never take any of his siblings, he cared too much, that was just Jon. She tried to fake a smile and climbed out of his bed. This small act seemed to put a dull ache inside of him, watching her leave his bed, and it was almost too much too bare... guilt. More guilt. 'Our father would kill me.'

Sansa found herself back in her room, being fitted for a new gown by one of her ladies. If it was to be their last feast and festival, she would have herself looking the part of a wardeness, as she surly would be in charge while Jon was gone. She wondered how awkward things would be with Little Finger arriving for the festivities tonight, he claimed he had a proposition for her brother.

All day Jon wondered the castle trying to prepare for the arrival of the dragon queen, as well as the festivities of the night. He needed to meet with his counsel one last time before his own fitting. He began to wonder about Sansa, and what she would be wearing. He told the seamstress to spare no expense on her gown for the evening, he even had a gift he wanted to give her. When Jon walked into the counsel room he found Lord Baelish already arrived and chatting with the members.

"King of the North," Little Finger addressed with his sly smile.

"My Lord," all the members addressed as he took a seat.

"Your early," Jon said looking wearily at Little finger.

"I just couldn't wait to have you hear my proposal," Lord Baelish smiled wider, "a union, to bring about more troops on your side."

"Union between whom?"

"I'd like to offer up my army, questionably one of the largest in all of Westeros, in exchange for Sansa's hand," his smile did not fade.

"Actually my Lord, we have several suitors coming tonight to try and win the lovely Lady Sansa's hand, we know you would want your sister to choose whom she has married after what she went through. It's not just a union between Lady Sansa, but also yourself my lord..."

"No," Jon didn't want to hear anymore from any of his council men.

"You need to take a wife to produce an heir, if your sister takes a husband there will at least be a second stark capable or ruling should you fall..."

"I will not force my sist... Sansa, to marry, if she chooses of her own free will then I will bless the union, but never will she be used as a feelingless pawn in this game," Jon put his foot down, "I will marry when I see fit, however, we have two threats from each side surrounding us. Producing an heir is the least of my concerns. Bring all the ladies to the festivities you'd like, I doubt I will take a single one," Jon's ears were turning red from the anger fueling inside. He decided he was done with the conversation and left.

When Sansa entered the room the festivities had already picked up and become lively with music and chatter. She scanned the room to see her brother king sitting at the front, and beside him was Lord Baelish. Sansa curtsied and said her hello's as she made her way to her place at the table. There was a surprising number of young men there trying to flatter her.

"Sweet Sansa," Lord Baelish smiled wickedly at her.

"Lord Baelish, what a pleasure, again," she tried to be polite.

"You're as radiant as a queen," he said taking her hand and pressing his lips to it.

"Your too kind," Sansa gently slipped her hand from his grasp and took a seat before looking to Jon who she was surprised to find was looking back at her.

"You look beautiful, Sansa," Jon said ignoring the awkward stare little finger was now giving him.

"Thank you my Lord," she tried to hold back her smile before dropping her gaze to her food. After eating she was asked to dance by several young fellas, until Little Finger cut in to dance with her.

"Fair Sansa," he swooned, "how I've missed you. Have you thought about my offer..."?

"I do not wish to sit the Iron Throne, I am satisfied here," she said softly not returning his gaze.

"Do you not feel the connection we share my little Sansa," he said tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

"I don't know what I feel, I'm confused by the kindness you once shown me, and the torcher you let me endure," she said pulling her face from his fingertips.

"I did not know he would hurt you, I admit I was a fool," he said softly in her ear. What he didn't realize was Jon was watching closely as Little Finger tried to innocently feel her body with his hand as they danced.

"Jon is to marry, he won't be as determined to protect you when he is swooned by his new wife. You will need a man of your own to protect you Sansa, let me be that man, I'd do anything to make you my queen," he purred in her ear. Her face froze... he's marrying? Who!? She let her hand slip from his as she took a step back staring blankly at him before turning to briskly walk off. Jon noticed and stood up to follow her, rushing past Little Finger.

Sansa took off in a run into the snow leaving behind her furs or any kind of cover. She had been wearing a crimson velvet dress that hung low with a low cut, gold band at her waist and her upper arm as the rest of her sleeves flowed like a river behind her and she moved swiftly. She wanted something like what Queen Margery would wear, the thought of the young strong queen saddened Sansa. It all welled up in her chest as she felt sobs forming, she could barely feel the icy sting of the cold air biting at her.

"Sansa!" she heard Jon briskly jogging out in search of her.

"Leave me!" she shouted trying to wipe her tears as she headed out the gate and towards the trees for shelter.

"Sansa, what is wrong?" he asked grabbing her arm to stop her from ignoring him.

"What do you want from me?!" she snapped pulling away from his grasp, but turning to face him.

"What is wrong?" Jon was confused, "what did little finger say to you? You do not have to marry him or anyone if you don't want to, I made that clear to the little prick today..."

"Who are you marrying?" she asked in soft sobs, why was this bothering her so much.

"Married? Me?" he was feeling more lost, "no one is getting married Sansa."

"Don't lie to me..." Sansa said trying to back away, "just don't..."

"Sansa, listen to me, I don't know what you're talking about," he said grabbing both her arms firmly and yet gently, "I have something for you..."

"Jon..." he wouldn't let her finish before releasing one of her arms so he could pull out of his pocket a beautiful necklace with a gold and diamond wolf, as well white gold and diamond wolf dangling side by side. It looked like Jon's Dire wolf ghost and her once dire wolf Lady. She breathlessly placed a slender finger on the wolves, bound together. Her eyes stuck to the beautiful piece of jewelry before her. He stood behind her and placed the necklace around her neck and clasped it together, but he didn't move... his hands fell to her shoulders pulling her closer against him.

She turned around facing him, feeling his warm breath falling on her face as she looked up at him with glossy eyes. She couldn't feel the cold surrounding her because the fire inside of her was burning so strong. He leaned down and surprised her with a kiss, what surprised him in return was when he went to back away she grabbed him, pulling him closer. Her lips back on his, melting into them as if they were one. The warmth of her breath and the taste of her lips was intoxicated as his hands found their way in her hair. Her arms wrapped around his neck…

"Sansa, no," he said breaking away holding her away from him, as he tried to regain his poseur.

"Jon," Sansa couldn't help but whimper.

"I'm so sorry Sansa," he said looking down at the ground.

"I can't control this feeling," she said looking up at him desperate, her hands clasping into the furs of his coat as she tried to bring him back to her. She could sense him forcing a distance between them, " I look at you and I... I get this feeling... please hold on... don't let go."

"I can't Sansa, this is wrong, Father wouldn't want this," he said hating the pain he was causing her.

"Father isn't here, Jon," she said, wondering why she was defending the strange feelings between them. He took his coat off and wrapped it around her, unable to listen anymore in fear he would cave, and then he left her there walking back into the gates of their city. Sansa stood there holding it in before she fell to the floor and cried. What's wrong with me. This is so wrong... but I can't not think of Jon. Is this Love? If it is I don't want it.

As soon as Jon walked back into the mess hall he was stormed by a bunch of people talking so fast he couldn't hear. Once they finally slowed down, he was told Bran had been found near the Godwood, starving and half alive... but alive with a young female. Jon took off to the room they had his little brother resting in. Jon stood there in shock watching his young brother being attended to. Bran opened his eyes and looked over at Jon.

"Jon, is that you..." Bran weakly said trying to sit up, "I have to tell you something important..."

Authors note: I have slightly re-edited to the best of my ability this first chapter now that I have word again lol! Please review and let me know what you think.