A/N: So this one is a short 'aftermath' fluff piece, taking place after the finale.

Okay... Tbh, I was silently shipping this pair, waiting for co-shippers to emerge among my friends. Just when I thought I was alone in shipping them, voila! My friend Jill did not disappoint! Lol. Basically, it was her who reeled me in to write this drabble for the ship.

Beta'd by Jill (dlittleone on Tumblr; go check her out!)
Enjoy!

After the great and lesser houses of the North have convened, declared him King and departed the meeting, Jon Snow was left alone in the Great Hall of Winterfell with his thoughts.

He sat at the head of the table, looking at the empty hall in front of him. So many different memories, both pleasant and unpleasant have transpired in this very room throughout the years. Most of which with him, spending the time seated at a table in the far end of the hall, not in the head table where he currently sat. And now, just now, another big affair has occurred.

He was named King in the North. The White Wolf.

Even though it occurred through the interference of a little girl, the initial hostility the northern Houses has assumed for him was gone in an instant after the words of little Lyanna sunk in. The men then pulled their swords from their sheath and swore to fight for and with him in his wars.

Granted, he was touched and deeply moved by Lady Mormont's loyalty and belief in him. He's not cut out for this. He's a Snow, a bastard who didn't deserve this.

He is not a Stark.

"I know what you're thinking." said a voice, cutting through the mess in his mind. He looked up to see Sansa enter the room.

He let out a sigh and said, "Considering we've just started talking properly again, of course you would."

After he had said those words he saw hurt grace Sansa's features.

Dammit."I didn't it mean it like that Sansa. I was just – I was just joking." He finished lamely.

Sansa strode up to him and sat on the seat next to him.

"Well, when you say it with such seriousness, I wouldn't know how to take it." She said with an understanding smile.

He smiled back at her "I'll keep that in mind."

"So, you're not reverting back to brooding and being pouty now are you?" Sansa said gamely.

"Of course not." Jon said with a small laugh.

Sansa smiled. This whole thing is new to the both of them. "I have seen the last of the Houses off. Lady Mormont said she will be visiting us again soon," she paused, giving Jon a knowing look.

"She and Ser Davos have formed quite the camaraderie." Sansa added wistfully.

Jon nodded with a smile. "Aye. Ser Davos is quite fond of children. And the Lady Mormont is always more than welcome here in Winterfell."

"Yes. But Littlefinger is staying for a while longer." Sansa said, her voice tense. "I can't very well tell him off. Not after his help."

"But what of the Knights of the Vale?" Jon questioned. He was wary of the man who sold his sister to the Boltons and as much as possible, wanted him out of their home.

"They march for the Eyrie tomorrow and Littlefinger will follow after a few days." Sansa answered, her voice still clipped.

Jon reached for her hand and held it. "If you want him gone I can talk to him." Sansa clasped his hands and squeezed it.

"It's okay Jon. He'll be gone soon. I can… I can deal with him for a while." Sansa said assuring him with a grateful smile. Amidst the smile that adorned her beautiful face, Jon noticed the small uncertainty behind it and his heart clenched a bit.

"Alright. Just remember that you can tell me anything, Sansa." Sansa nodded and withdrew her hand from his to face him properly.

"And you know you can tell me anything that's troubling you as well." Sansa said with a knowing look. "You're having doubts with this."

No sense not telling Sansa. She already knew. He released a deep breath. "Aye. I do."

Sansa frowned. "But you are their King now. They swore fealty to you and have offered their support."

"You know how easily their loyalty could be swayed and their minds changed." Jon said. "And what of my lineage? I'm a bastard. I am a Snow and not a Stark."

It was Sansa's turn to reach for his hand. "As I've said, you are a Stark to me." She said with determination. "Lady Mormont and the other Houses acknowledges that Ned Stark's blood flows through your veins. You are every bit of a Stark as I am. Please don't think otherwise."

"And what of this upcoming war? Am I fit to lead the North against this huge army? I don't think –" but Jon was cut off with whatever he needed to say when Sansa held out one hand to stop him.

"You will lead them, Jon. You will lead usinto whatever war winter has brought." Sansa said with resolve and conviction in her eyes, her hands returning to hold his for assurance and comfort.

Sansa urged him to look at her in the eye, and he did. "We had problems before but we fixed it. I know we'll get there."

She took a deep breath and asked him, "But I ask you this, Jon. Do you trust me?"

"Of course. With all my heart." Jon said.

"Then please believe me when I say that you deserve to be King of the North and that you are fitting to lead. Whatever happens, I'll be by your side." Sansa said, giving him one of her beautiful, sincere and uplifting smiles.

Jon looked uncertain for a moment but smiled at her. "Thank you."

"You can do this. I believe in you." And before Jon could say anything else, Sansa leaned in and gave him a tender kiss on his cheek.

She pulled back and Jon saw her face redden a bit.

"Now," she cleared her throat. "I'll be off. And for god's sake, stop brooding about!" with that, Sansa left the hall.

Handling all of these would still be trying, Jon thought. But after this talk with Sansa, he realised that he has far more support than he first thought he had, he knew he was going to be alright.

He brought a hand to his cheek, still feeling the tingling of her lips against his cheek and smiled.

Yes. Everything will be just alright.