Note: Okay first of all I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who commented on the first chapter, it really meant a lot to me that this got the response it did ;3 This next chapter is from Jon's POV. He might be a little ooc but for the sake of this fanfiction this is how I'm writing him. So I hope I did him justice? Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!

Jon didn't go to sleep that night. He was almost scared to, because all he could think of was what he had to go through to get back to WInterfell. The title of king should have gone to Robb, or at the very least, to Sansa. But this world has screwed him and all of his siblings over, and they got nothing they originally wanted. Those thoughts should have gone away with his victory over reclaiming Winterfell, but they didn't. The fighting is never over, and his conversation with Sansa the night before only proves that further.

There was no time to dwell on it though, because there were more important matters. As he walked to the dining hall he wondered what he was going to tell his other advisors; Tormund and Davos about what he wanted to do next. He felt like the first thing he should do is rebuild Winterfell back to its former glory. At the same time though, there was the matter of the White Walkers and any potential threat coming from the south. As far as he knew, there would be some sort of conflict there.

He feels like they should be invincible; like nothing can stop them now. But he knew that was the former Jon Snow who thought such a thing. That man is dead now, and Jon wanted to laugh at the irony of that, but laughing was a hard thing to do nowadays.

Just as he thought that though, he entered the dining hall, and Sansa was there. He stopped for a moment to observe her; she was sitting properly next to the seat that was now meant for him. He assumed the dress she wore was new too; it was a deep violet, and it had their house's sigil on her chest, only a bit bigger perhaps. Her face was empty and tired, which mirrored his.

"Good morning Sansa," he said as he sat down in the lord's chair. "Did you get any sleep?"

Sansa looked up at him, and he saw the emotions and color return to her face. She smiled at him and shook her head. "Not at all, but I'll be alright… Did you sleep?"

"No, there's always too much on my mind. That's not important though, what will you be doing today?" For some reason when he was talking to her that was his only focus. All the background thoughts of his situation just faded away into an abyss. It was a nice feeling for Jon.

"I suppose things a lady should be doing; like making clothing, and gossiping around the court," Sansa said lightly smiling to herself.

Jon smiled back, and he knew that wasn't all she would be doing, but in an ideal life, that would have been the truth. Sansa should have still been at King's Landing. Though he couldn't help but feel selfishly happy that she wasn't. Being here means that Sansa won't have to suffer, even though he can clearly see what it has done to her.

"Maybe one day you will do just such a thing," he said, looking at her.

Looking back at him with her lit up face, Sansa opened her mouth but didn't even get the chance to form her words because someone came in. It was a soldier they were vaguely familiar with, and he went up to Sansa.

"My lady, Brienne of Tarth has arrived with news, she wishes to speak with you," the soldier said diligently. Sansa looked at Jon sternly, though with emotion still on her face., He wasn't sure what to think of that, but it excited him a little.

"I will meet with her shortly, please leave us," Sansa commanded, and the soldier then left. When they were alone again, Sansa turned to Jon, and her face was now full of a serious emotion. He assumed he should probably pay attention to whatever she says now, especially when she pulled that specific face; one of a skilled strategist who knows more about this world he has discovered he's only a rookie in.

"Brienne is trustworthy, and if she ever comes to you with anything, know that it's because of me. May I request to put her on your council?" Jon studied how quickly her face changed from serious, to inquisitive. It seems like he's been noticing her more and more lately. When they were children, they usually paid each other no mind, and now here they are, at home again hoping that they can truly trust one another.

After staring at her thinking for a little too long, Jon realized that she had asked him a question. He quickly straightened out and cleared his throat. "Of course. May I ask though, why would you want Brienne on the council and not yourself?"

"She probably understands more about what you do than me, and while you take care of your war matters, I need to put our home back together, and make it stronger than ever."

Jon smiled at her, because she gave him hope. It was lost when he was revived, but she showed up and didn't let him rest for a second. It must have happened for a reason.

"I will put that task completely in your hands then, you're probably better at it then me."

"Oh don't worry, I'm sure there are plenty of people around you that can help, including me." Sansa stood up and straightened out her dress. "I suppose I shouldn't keep Brienne waiting any longer, goodbye Jon."

"Will you meet me for dinner later?" Jon asked, realizing he was hoping way too much for a yes.

Sansa stopped at the door and finally released a pleasant smile, one that would make anyone's day. "Yes, I'll see you then."

The dining hall was silent once again without her presence, and Jon hurried to finish his breakfast so he could hurry to his council.

On the way, Jon ran into Littlefinger, who was looking over the ledge of the bridge he was crossing. It was always difficult to read his face, and his intentions worry Jon. He wondered if Sansa knew what he was planning already.

Littlefinger didn't say anything to Jon except nod his head as he passed, and then he went right back to staring down at whatever he was staring at. Jon decided to discreetly look over, and he realized that Sansa was down there.

As Jon was walking he looked at Littlefinger again, and was shocked to see his expression had completely changed for a very small second. Jon wasn't sure of how well he could read people anymore, but for some reason, when it came to Sansa he could.

And it was very clear to Jon that Littlefinger looked at Sansa with a strong look of longing. It made him wonder just what happened between them, and if Sansa could truly be trusted.

He shook the thought quickly though, and remembered Sansa's face and how sincere it was whenever she mentioned him. But if Littlefinger had feelings for Sansa, then they could definitely use that to their advantage. He can tell by their interaction just now that the only reason he's here in the first place is because of her. He would have never come otherwise.

There was something else that Jon felt, and he realized it last out of all the thoughts that cycled through his head as he went inside. He was jealous of the weird relationship they already shared, and all he wants to do is protect Sansa.

But the only thing Jon can do now is trust her, because the relationship she had with Littlefinger prior to their reunion is there, and he can't interfere. It has to be her choice completely.

Jon lets his old hope speak then, and believe Sansa is truly on his side.

Note: Thank you for reading this chapter to the end! Next one should be up sooner hopefully. I'm shooting for sometime next week. So look forward to that!