Authors note: Thank you to those who've read, special thanks to the awesome person who reviewed. It makes me feel like it's worth further exploration.

Chapter 2: Uncontrollable

Sansa was sitting on a bench in the garden reading a book. She felt herself completely distracted ever after her and Jon's kiss. It had been nearly a week and he refused to talk to her. Every time they came face to face he ran for his life like she was the plague. She buried her face deeper in the book trying to ignore the thoughts popping into her head. Images danced teasingly through her mind. His lips. His eyes. His warmth. His touch. She shuddered and slammed the book down.

"Careful there, what did that book ever do to ya?" Robb chuckled as he passed his sister, "your too pretty to frown…"

"Leave me alone," Sansa sulked.

"Don't you want to come watch me beat Theon and Jon up?" Robb smiled a handsomely wide grin. He was so friendly, her big brother. She couldn't help but admire his kindness. His kindness was loud, and obvious. Jon's kindness was soft, mellow, and subtle. Like the scent of fresh flowers on the wind.

"I don't know Robb, maybe," Sansa said unsure. He just smiled at her and patted her hair like she was a child, she hated when he did that. Sansa watched Robb take off in a sprint to the training yard. Sansa sighed, looking up to spot Jon at the entrance. He had been watching her, and she hadn't realized. Before she could get up to talk to him he took off for the training yard. She sighed again sinking into her seat deep in thought. Why was he treating her this way, he had never treated her so indifferent? They were never the closest of the bunch, but they were friends growing up.

Sansa stood up to make her way to the training yard. She hoped seeing Jon take a beating would cheer her mood. This was strange for her, and sudden. She had never felt this way about him before. So why now? Why did he haunt her dreams? Why did she think of him all the time? Why did she long for his embrace and the taste of his lips?

Sansa had walked into the yard distracting Jon once more. He stopped to watch her as she gracefully made her way to the viewing area with her father siblings. The youngest boys loved watching their brothers as they prepared themselves to become swordsmen. She took a seat next to Rickon smiling at him as she kissed his hair, he was the youngest, but he grew like a weed. Bran stood and cheered for Jon as he got the better of Robb, but again he looked up to see her looking off into the distance. He watched her for a moment as she fiddled with her dress.

Why of all the pretty girls in Winterfell, was he the one that plagued his mind? Why was she the one who lingered in his dreams. Her lips. Her eyes. Her fire red hair. Her smell. All of it intoxicating to him. The more of a man he became the more urges he had… and he desired her above all else. He watched as her eyes finally met his. He quickly glanced away to see Theon nearly getting the best of him. Quickly he disarmed Theon and Robb came back out for more. Boys and their swords. Jon looked to see the applause of his cousins, all but Sansa who sat there, looking at him angrily. He turned to look and found the hilt of Robb's pretend sword get him in the shoulder knocking him down.

"Jon!" Sansa gasped loudly, standing to her feet, her hands now gripping the bannister. Everyone looked to her, surprise in her reaction. Jon rubbed his shoulder, still on the ground as he looked up to see her once more. He was surprised to find himself pleased to see her worried about him. He knew he couldn't let Sansa leave thinking him weak, so he put all his effort into disarming Robb. Arya cheered excitedly for her favorite champion.

Sansa had seen enough of the boys playing around and decided she would go and practice a trade of her own. She took joy in archery when no one was around, it wasn't a lady's sport, but it wasn't frowned upon the same way sword play was. Many of the older young ladies would hold "Ladies Archery tournaments" and she was determined this time to win. Sansa finished saddling up her horse, the most beautiful horse in all of Winterfell.

Her father had bought it for her as a gift after her 16th name day celebration. He had searched the finest looking horse to fit Winterfell's most prized jewel. Sansa loved her beautiful mare, she was a beautiful dapple gray tall with a thick neck. The mare's long white mane was thick and long, her tail trailing far behind. The horse was rather large for Sansa's small frame but she did not mind as it made for a steady seat when she would shoot her arrows.

Sansa groomed and brushed her mare, talking to her gently. Sephira was truly a prized horse, and one day she would breed her to the finest stallion. She wasn't sure how she felt about it, but her father said that it would be a wise investment with such a wonderful specimen. Her mare was ruled to be perhaps the most glorious horse in all the seven kingdoms, none had yet surpassed the grace and regal beauty of Sephira. Sansa stroked her mare's neck, understanding the burden of being a fine specimen, one who would be told when and who to breed to.

It wasn't long before Sansa was mounted and on her way to the gates of their castle. She would need to head past the nearby surrounding villages until she reached the woods. She had a special place out there she practiced. Sansa found herself with her bow in her hand shooting at the targets as she rode past them. She had to be beautiful and poised in order to get high marks in the games, she could not think to long nor slouch or look in any way out of formation. For several years she had been practicing this art, when she was younger she didn't care much for it, but as she got older and her friends began to take part in the games… she found a passion she did not expect to find.

"Your good," Sansa jumped, losing her balance and falling from her horse. His laugh made her blood boil as she stood up and dusted off her dress.

"You've spoiled it!" Sansa yelled angrily at Jon who continued to lean against a tree and smile. Her eyes met his, and like a match being stroke a fire lit in her icy blue eyes.

"Your good, truly," Jon said crossing his arms still leaning against a tree.

"What do you want? Jon Snow," Sansa hissed angrily. He ignored her worded jabs at him and walked towards him.

"Your father and mother sent me to fetch you, your due for another fitting. Your to be dressed splendid for the prince's arrival," he mocked.

"You take pleasure in my misfortune do you?" Sansa said angrily.

"Greatly," he joked, but she did not find it funny. She went to walk past him to collect her horse when he grabbed her arm to stop her, "no Sansa, I do not. It's you who takes pleasure in torturing me."

"What?" Sansa asked in confusion as she peered up at him, his hand still wrapped delicately around her arm, "how so?"

"You torture me fiercely… you cause a searing desire within me that I cannot control. To be near you but not to touch you. To know I could never have you," his free hand delicately skimmed her face as he eyed her.

"Jon?" she was full of both confusion and excitement. The way she said his name sent him into a madness as he pushed her up against a tree, his lips forcefully meeting hers. She did not protest or turn away but met each motion of his kisses as fiercely and passionately as him. His hands grasping at her waist and her hair trying to pull her closer as he pushed himself into her. Sansa gasped as his lips moved from her lips down to her chin towards her neck. The warmth of his breath set fire to her skin, sending the chills throughout her making the little hairs on her neck stand on end. As quickly as she fell into the heated of the moment she quickly pushed him off, "No! Enough! You're so confusing Jon Snow! You kiss me in the garden, you watch me in my room, you look at me but say nothing to me for days. I hate you."

"You don't hate me," he whispered softly trying to catch his breath.

"I want to go," Sansa said grabbing her horse and trying to mount. She was shaking so much she could not get up. Jon walked to her.

"Can I get a ride? I walked all the way out here to get you," Jon's eyes had gone dark again, but his cheeks remained as pink and flushed as hers. She turned to look away as she waited for him to help her up and mount behind her. They rode smoothly back towards the gates of the castle when Jon finally spoke up again, "put your arms out and close your eyes…"

"S'cuse me?" Sansa asked hastily. Jon just smiled and whispered into her ear.

"Trust me," he said gently, the warmth of his breath exciting her once more. She did as he said, his grip around her waist tightening so she was firmly balanced against him, "close your eyes and imagine you're flying."

"Jon," Sansa laughed, but she couldn't deny she felt free for a moment as her horse cantered through the snowy fields and past the farmers' houses.

The wind caressed her face as she felt his grip around her waist, it sent a funny sensation into the pit of her stomach. She kept her arms out and her eyes closed as she felt the wind tickle up her arms blowing her hair behind her probably tickling Jon's face. She had never felt more alive. Jon couldn't help but feel himself stir behind her, filled with excitement, the kind he hoped she didn't notice under the layers of her clothing. Sadly, Jon had to slow Sephira to a gentle trot. Jon led the horse to the stable, where he brought her to a full stop and dismounted.

"You can open your eyes now," Jon said after pulling her down to see her eyes were still closed.

"I don't want to, I don't want to come back to reality," Sansa said softly her hands rested on his strong arms as he steadied her.

"Sansa," he said softly before placing his lips on her. It was a gentle, delicate kiss, unlike the passion fueled one they had experienced not that long back. When she opened her eyes he was gone. Her hand lifted to her parted lips as she gently rested her fingers there. He was a mystery to her. She looked around to the snow covered grounds where they had just landed.

"I don't understand him," Sansa whispered to Sephira as she gently pets her horses neck She then proceeded to return the horse to her paddock before returning to the castle of Winterfell.

Sansa finds herself being fitted once more for more gowns she would need to impress the prince and has family. But all she could think about was the dark haired brooding boy who haunted her dreams. Why couldn't she control herself, why couldn't she keep him from her thoughts. The lady who had been fitting her brought her a small gift. She told her it was left in her room for her. Sansa took the small box in her hand and opened it.

There was a small beautiful white gold chain and dangling from it was a white dire wolf made of white gold and diamonds. It was breath taking to Sansa, and she knew from whom it came. She then noticed a small piece of paper inside of the box. All it said was, 'Tonight after the first course, in the Godswood…' Sansa smiled softly as she held the note to her chest which seemed to be racing so quickly she worried it would fly out of her chest.

Sansa quickly dressed in a beautiful brown and gold dress in the typical norther fashion. When finally, it was time for their supper to begin Sansa quickly rushed through her first course as she watched Jon leave unnoticed. Sansa asked to be excused, and her father agreed. Catelyn watched her daughter, she noticed lately that she had been acting different as well as Jon. She heard whispers about them, and it made her uneasy.

Sansa ran to the god's wood to feel someone grasp her pulling her to them. Jon looked down at Sansa who returned his silent gaze. Both of them couldn't fight the feeling that had started stirring. She reached up to touch his face, she couldn't help but wonder how someone so beautiful could always be so dark and broody. He gave a half smile down at her, he didn't know he could feel that happy. Just being next to her made him feel like his world was crumbling around him.

"Thank you," she finally spoke up, still looking at him.

"For what?" he teased. She didn't say a word just placed her hand over the beautiful necklace she wore that glistened under the moonlight.

"It must have cost you a fortune, Jon, where'd you get the money?" she asked quickly.

"Aye, it did, but it was worth it," he said smiling at her.

"Jon," she said softly, "what do you want from me?"

"I… I don't know," Jon answered not sure how to answer it. He didn't know himself what he wanted, "Whatever it is, I can't have it."

"You will never know if you never try, Jon," she grabbed his face with her hand as he started to look away.

"I think about you, all the time," his eyes went cold again, as if he was frustrated with her, "I can't stop it."

"Nor I you, Jon," Sansa said desperately searching his eyes as she felt him slipping away, "Let us just walk, just walk and talk."

"You don't understand, Sansa," he growled pulling from her, "I can't be around you. It hurts. I don't know why or how, but it hurts to be close to you. It hurts worst to be away from you."

"Please, Jon," she begged grabbing his hand, "just be my friend tonight. Just walk with me."

"Aye, I spose," Jon said weakly as she tugged on his hand. Together they walked quietly at first, but before long they began to have a conversation that ranged from Sansa's growing tired of the gals she called friends, to Jon telling her of their Uncle Benjen's offer to go to the wall.

Sansa didn't like hearing that, she couldn't imagine Winterfell without Jon. They sat by the pond in the Godswood watching the star's dance across the water and the moon glisten off of the snow. She had never felt more at peace, and he had never felt more whole. He joked with her about what a brat she was at 13 and 14 years old, and she joked about how brooding he was. It grew late and he could see Sansa was sleepy, so he escorted her back to the castle.

After returning to his chambers he was surprised to find Sansa at his door. He opened it to see her standing in the cold dark hall with just her candle for light. He quickly let her in and noticed she was wearing a silk night dress that showed off more of her womanly body then he had ever seen before. He swallowed hard as he stared at her, feeling himself stir at the sight of her. She looked like a glowing goddess to him.

"You shouldn't be here, Sansa," he tried to say. But she didn't listen, she walked to him and pressed her lips to his. Sansa's arms wrapped around Jon's neck as he pulled her in close. Her hand ran down his smooth bare chest searching him, feeling new things boil inside her she had never felt before. She moaned softly as his lips ran down her neck and his hands grasped in her hair. Jon's hands then hooked around Sansa's thighs lifting her up, until her legs were wrapped around him. She could feel his bulging manhood roused at her pressed against him, and strangely it seemed to excite her more.

"Jon," she moaned softly as he laid her down his body between her legs. It was like a primal beast had taken over and instinct was in control. His hands ran up her body lifting her dress up over her head. She shook with desire as he kissed and licked his way up to her swollen breast licking and gently sucking the little pink buds of her nipples. She moaned and fisted her hands in his dark hair lifting her body up in desire for him. Both jumped when they heard a knock at Jon's door. Sansa quickly jumped up and scurried under his covers to hide as he jumped out of bed to answer the door.

"Jon?" Robb asked in confusion, curious as to why Jon was half naked, sweaty, and breathing heavily, "did I interrupt your… personal time?"

"Shut up," Jon snapped as Robb let out a round of laughter, "shhhh! You'll wake the castle, what do you want?"

"Theon and I are sneaking out to go to one of the late night taverns to flirt with the girls, want to come?" Robb smiled a big toothy grin that made Jon smile back. Jon's hand went to the back of his head where the nape of his neck was as he glanced back briefly. Normally he would go on these wild boy fooleries but tonight he would pass, "I'm pretty wiped out. Next time."

"Your loss," Robb chuckled before heading back down the hall. Jon closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a large exhale. He then looked over to Sansa who was now peeking out from the covers. He placed one hand on his mouth deep in thought. He walked to the bed, picking up Sansa's dress handing it to her, "we can't Sansa. That was too close."

"Too close? You don't want me anymore?" Sansa asked confused, and slightly hurt.

"You don't understand," Jon said sitting on the bed looking away as she put her dress back over her head in frustration.

"Then tell me," Sansa snapped, "I'm growing weary of this back and forth from you."

"It has to stop here, Sansa, you're a Lady, and I'm a Bastard," he said softly.

"You are not! Is this what your worried about?" Sansa asked angrily.

"It's not like your father or definitely not your mother, would ever approve of us marrying," Jon resting his head in his hands, his elbows propped on his knees, "I know what they do to young women who take to bed before marriage. They end up in the whore house or as a bride to low scum. If we did what I wanted to… you'd not be of any value to your family."

"Value? I'm not cattle, Jon Snow!" She threw a pillow hard hitting him, "my virtue is up to me when I want to lose it or keep it."

"You're betrothed to the prince, everyone has been talking about it," Jon said grabbing the pillow she threw at him and resting it in his lap.

"You…. You… ohhh, you Jon Snow, you make me so mad!" Sansa didn't know what to say or how to say it, "if I wish to lose my maidenhood I will, and if it's not you then I will find someone else!"

"Sansa wait," he said grabbing her wrist before she could leave the bed, "I'm sorry."

"Leave me alone, Jon, I can't take any more heartache from you," she whimpered trying to pull her wrist away, but he would not release her.

"I don't know why I can't let you go," Jon said softly, "Why I can't just do the right thing."

"If you don't want me then just be done with it, find another and leave me be," she tried to hold back her tears but now they poured down with anger.

"I'm sorry," he said pulling her to him, burring his face in her stomach, "just stay for tonight…"

"What?" she asked confused.

"Just sleep here tonight, I won't touch you, just don't leave," his voice was soft, almost like a whisper, defeat dripped in every word. She was like a poison slowly devouring and taking over his body and mind. Sansa did not say anything else, she followed his lead and laid down in his bed. His arms wrapped tight around her as he pulled her close, smelling her hair and her heavenly sent. He wanted her badly, but he knew he couldn't have her. But for that night, for that moment, he knew he could pretend. She was his and he was hers.

Preview of Next chapter…

Joffrey watched Sansa, a look on his face that said he was playing with her in his mind. She could see the wickedness on his face, the way he sized her up leaning to one side in his chair with a smug smile… she was his prey. Jon couldn't help but feel his blood boil as he watched the golden haired Prince eye Sansa like a toy.

Sansa tried to ignore the prince's stare, but she could deny that three or four years prior her fourteen year old self would have been instantly in love with the golden haired boy. She would have been blind to his looks and title, but now that she was older she could see him for who he was. Her eyes glanced over to Jon's who stared darkly at Joffrey before getting up to go outside.