When he finds her, she's standing in the crypts before the destoyed statue of Ned Stark.
For a moment, he thinks on his choice to interrupt her, but as if she's attuned to his very presence, she turns and sees him a moment later. Her face softens with a smile, though it's a sad one, and Jon's heart aches. He approaches her and for a moment, neither of them speak; her sapphire eyes are red rimmed and swollen, telltale signs of the tears she'd been shedding before his arrival. "Sansa... I..." He begins but finds now that he's there in front of her, he's lost the words he wanted to say.
"I'll rebuild them, of course," she says, shaking him free from his thoughts. She's turned back to face the crumbled remains of her father's statue, tears shining in her eyes. It's been hours and she still can't believe it's all over. That the battle had been won... And that Jon had come back to her alive. Her time below in these very crypts, though frightening, had been long forgotten when she had seen the injuries and casualties of the battle. She sucks in a breath, closing her eyes against the pain. A tear slips free and traces the curve of her cheek, disappearing when it drips down onto the front of her dark dress. "Theon will have one as well," she opens her eyes, doing her best to force away the sorrow in her heart and voice. She's not doing so well.
"He deserves it," Jon says softly, turning slightly as she looks to him. She's crumpling then and Jon catches her as she begins to cry, gut wrenching sobs that steal the very breath from her lungs. He holds her as long as she needs, softly murmuring into her ear, one hand pressed firmly into the small of her back, the other stroking her long red hair. It could have been seconds or even months, he lost track of the time as they stood there clinging to one another. All he knew was even the Gods themselves could not pull her from him.
It's not until she begins to pull back that Jon loosens his hold on her, the hand that once stroked her hair now brushes away the last of her tears. "I'm sorry," she breathes with a shake of her head, as if she's embarassed by her emotional outburst. "There's so much else to worry about, it's not me you should be-"
He kisses her- he can't stop himself.
She stiffens in his arms for a split second- caught off guard by his actions, certainly- but then she's kissing him back. Jon hopes this kiss says everything he hadn't been able to say to her yet. A moment later, he pulls back, trailing the tips of his fingers across her jawline, down to trace the outline of her rosy lips, still yet tingling from his kiss. "Jon..." His name is a whisper on those same lips and it's all he can do not to kiss her again.
"Tyrion told me you were beyond brave down here," Jon says as he leans his forehead against hers, breathing her in as she sinks into him. She remembers the kiss to her hand, the way Tyrion's eyes had looked at her behind this very statue, where they had decided to fight rather than to die. He feels the familiar pang of jealousy thinking of another man touching her, being beside her in the moment that very well could have been their last one. But she's clutching to his fur cloak and he's forgetting his jealousy as he leans into her grip. "I'm sorry I put you into danger down here," he whispers against the crown of her hair, her braids slipping free from their pins. "I thought you would be safe here and yet I put you into more danger than-"
She's the one to silence him with a kiss this time, her lips soft and her hands warm as they slide into his wild curls. The kiss is long and passionate, perhaps full of everything they've never said to each other. When she pulls back, her eyes are shining and her cheeks are red, but she smiles as bright as the sun itself. "I love you, you know," he says before he can lose the nerve. "I know it's wrong but Sansa, I love you." This is the girl he once called sister. This is the woman who he went to war for. The woman he loved with his entire being. And was it so wrong... Really?
She widens her eyes as he confesses his truth to her and Sansa feels her heart skip a beat. Was this really happening? Was Jon really saying... That he loved her? "And there's something else I need to tell you..." He sucks in a breath, glancing left and right, as if there was someone else to overhear them besides the dead. "My father... Was Rhaegar Targaryen. My mother was Lyanna Stark." His words settle between them and Sansa draws back slightly, her mouth hanging open in her surprise. "I'm not your bastard brother. I'm not your brother at all. I'm... I'm your..."
"Cousin." She finishes for him with a slight shake of her head, as if she cannot believe what she's hearing. But one look at his face and she knows... She understands that its the truth. She can't help but to laugh, again shaking her head. All this time... All the longing between them, the strained, uncertain feelings... None of it mattered because they were not siblings at all, but cousins. She wanted to cry, but this time not from sorrow.
"When this is all over... Sansa, I want to be with you." His mouth is at her ear, his words warm against her skin. "Everything I've done has been for a reason, I swear it to you. Keep your faith in me." His mouth is on her throat then, brushing soft kisses against her exposed skin. When he pulls his mouth up, its to capture hers yet again, his arms coming around her as tightly as he dared. "I will always protect you," his words are the old vow he'd made to her, back when their enemy had been Ramsay Bolton. Though the enemy had changed, the vow had not. She nods and only then do they step apart, though the heat clings to their bodies, the need to touch the other never really leaving.
He leads her down the corridor and up the stairs, back into the main hall of Winterfell. They part ways only at the hall that leads to her own chambers and despite the fact that any single person could have been watching, he presses a kiss to her forehead. Then he watches as she walks down the hall, pausing only a moment to look back at him with a smile before she disappears through her chamber door. Jon takes a deep breath and smiles before he too walks down the halls until he reaches his own rooms, where inside he can finally lay down to sleep knowing he had done the right thing.
And when he sleeps, he dreams of her, the best dream he ever had.