authorsnote: she's back in action! apologies for being awol, but I have a LEGIT excuse this time. My darling macbook broke, and I had to wait to buy a new computer, a PC which I'm still getting used to. add to the fact I'm back studying, still working, and having some kind of social life, it has been a busy few months, but I'm back! I've missed writing and am committed to getting all my stories updated. unfortunately with my laptop breaking I lost all my writing, and had to start from scratch. hair was pulled, screaming was heard, and the dear boyf had to give me a talking to, about how 'no one gets this upset over loosing 200 words' humph. anyways, here's the new chapter! a bit shorter than you're used to but I wanted to get it up - I hope you enjoy!

song recommendations: shallow - a star is born, bradley cooper/lady gaga (highly, highly recommend this movie too btw)

i'm off the deep end,

watch as I dive in,

i'll never meet the ground,

crash through the surface, where they can't hurt us,

we're far from the shallow now

...

Sansa knew they were in trouble, deep trouble.

How were they supposed to explain their actions? How were they supposed to convince Eddard Stark - a man who prided his honour and could cut through their lies like a knife through butter that nothing had changed? Sansa trusted Jon, she trusted him to ensure their safety, to ensure that they weren't confined to a tower each for seeming crazy, or questioned about their sanity. In truth Sansa trusted Jon completely, and yet she wasn't sure how even he - with his intelligence and the fact he understood setting aside one's personal honour to save one's skin was essential - would get them out of this.

After all what could they say? Sansa realised they had not prepared for this, they had assumed they'd be able to fool their family, that they'd be able to hide under the scope of the Stark family view - evidently they had been wrong. They had not prepared for the idea they would get caught; they had been so confident, perhaps too confident? It seemed so as they moved into the Stark patriarch's solar.

Her stomach was churning, and she knew her hands were shaking. It dawned on her she was still wearing Jon's cloak; that didn't make things look any better, and yet she knew it was pointless to remove it as they each took a seat in front of her Father's desk, as he occupied the seat behind the table.

It was strange; seeing this again, being reduced to just viewers of the solar, not allowed to enter unaccompanied, when back in their world this had been Jon's solar (well a version of it), and she had often sat in that chair as well. It was odd, not to be in the position of power in Winterfell now. On her way to the hall she'd walked past one of the servants, and it had been odd to Sansa that they no longer answered to her (though she'd always been kind to the servants of the household). It was a dynamic change, a shift in how they'd live day to day and it was strange

And with those thoughts swirling around her mind Sansa realised; they had not prepared for this well enough, for coming back. Yes they'd thought out the basics, been sure of themselves (too sure) in certain aspects, but they hadn't really thought about how it would feel.

Sansa hadn't considered how it would be to be treated like a child again, to no longer be a voice of power and authority in Winterfell. She hadn't considered how angry she would get at her Mother in her treatment of Jon … hence their current position. Something she forced herself to be dragged back to, to ignore the thoughts running through her head as she looked across at her Father, as he began to speak.

"Sansa, Jon" He spoke, his voice was calm, deep, and it did give Sansa a sense of calmness, and made her feel more at ease; her Father had always had that, and Sansa knew Jon had inherited that Stark trait; the ability to make people feel at ease just by talking to them. There was a firmness there, and yet it was gentle … well usually, she could hear an edge to it now, an edge she knew was there because of the events in the main hall.

"Do you want to tell me what happened in the hall?" Again she heard the same tone to his voice; but it wasn't enough to make Sansa stop worrying; how in the hell were they to get out of this? "I'm pleased you seem to be, being kinder to your brother Sansa, but defying your Mother like that? Speaking like that? And Jon? I've never seen you act so … close with your sister, I'd like you to tell me why these sudden changes have come about, and Sansa why you spoke to your Mother in such a way"

Sansa opened her mouth to speak, and yet before she could utter a word she felt a hand on her knee; obscured from her Father's view, Jon was evidently telling her to keep quiet - something she resented, but she gave the smallest nod in response, he had promised he would handle it after all, and if he felt he had come up with an adequate excuse then she was happy to leave him to take the lead, especially considering nothing had come to mind for her.

His hand on her knee did distract her a little, made her squirm; it was difficult, being back in the body of a child, when what felt like only days earlier she and Jon had been embracing as man and woman, had loved one another as adults. It was strange, having the mind of a grown woman, with womanly desires and thoughts, but trapped as a child … still Jon, was going through it too, and they would get through it together, just as they would this unfortunate situation.

That was the most important thing; that they had one another, and Sansa thanked whatever gods were listening for keeping both their memories intact. Sansa would not have been able to do this on her own.

"U...Father" She heard Jon's little slip up and winced. Of course this was strange for him; to see her Father sat in the chair he usually occupied, to see Ice in the corner; his sword (having been reforged from the reunited pieces in the future), but no longer his to wield here. To have to refer to Eddard Stark as his Father, when both of them now knew the truth, knew that Jon was not Eddard Stark's son, but his Nephew; hence why she and Jon had been able to marry; as cousins.

"There is no cause for alarm, Sansa and I have just come to appreciate one another more over the past weeks, in fact I've been privately tutoring her on some subjects, her numbers and such" Sansa near rolled her eyes at that, but simply nodded; it was a dull excuse, but a believable one (as in their future Jon had tutored her on the hellish subject of numbers, as she had tutored him on basic court etiquette - lessons they'd both hated but got through together), though her Father seemed not ready to let this go yet, as he continued to push.

"It's not that I don't believe you Jon, it's just that … the way you two were looking at one another...it's unusual" Her worry increased then; so her Father had caught the look they had shared? One that two 'siblings' who barely spoke should not be sharing. Goddamn it, they had to be more careful.

"It seems something has changed between the two of you" Her Father spoke again, in that rumbling voice she had missed so much, the harshness of the North reflected in his tone. She didn't want to argue with him, and she hadn't wanted to argue with her Mother, but she had just felt so swept up … it was much more difficult than she had anticipated to act like her 14 year old self; she had changed too much between then and her 20th nameday … more than she ever could have thought, it wasn't easy slipping back to how she had been, and in truth? She didn't want to.

"We're just closer Father, as siblings" Jon said then, but she saw him wince; for the way he felt about her, it was not as brother and sister, it never had been as brother and sister, even at this age … that was what had allowed them to grow so close, in another way, for they had never seen one another as siblings, and thus something else had been allowed to flourish.

"Yes Father" Sansa agreed, still not used to her voice, more girlish now, and yet she nodded. Her Father nodded too, but it seemed he was not done.

"It's just, as you are half siblings, you have to be careful not to seem too close" Her Father said then, evidently choosing his words carefully, "The way you looked at one another, worryingly, it reminded me of how Lady Stark and I are look at one another"

Lady Stark … Sansa furrowed her brow at that; she had come from a time when she was Lady Stark, and Jon was King Stark … well, only because he had insisted to his Aunt that he would always carry the name Stark, and she had only relented because of their gentle agreement over Kingdoms and the truce they had come to when she had found out his parentage. It was strange, no longer being in charge, again her eyes fell to the chair; Jon's chair as she remembered it better … but not anymore.

"And at your age, on the threshold of adulthood, it's difficult" Her Father was speaking ineloquently, but Sansa understood his meaning, as did Jon, as he glanced at her with worry. She understood her Father sensed something was different between them, something he could not allow; under the pretext they were siblings, and Jon was a bastard … but of course that wasn't the case.

Unfortunately they could hardly call him out on that, and instead Sansa mulled over how perceptive her Father was, and how they could get around this… how could they convince their Father they were the same as he remembered them? Siblings, frosty with one another, not Cousins, now deeply in love and used to being in love, a love so close it shadowed all around it? When they had planned, this had been an after thought, an ease, but no … it was much harder than either had thought; you couldn't hide that kind of love, clearly.

"Sansa, soon you'll be betrothed, we've had several enquiries about your hand" She snapped out of her mullings then, her eyes going wide, and she felt the squeeze of Jon's hand on her knee, not hurting her but uncomfortable, and she realised as she glanced at him, he wasn't trying to catch her attention, he was just not happy about the change in this topic; at the idea of Sansa being anyone's but his.

But then Sansa knew; she would always be his, always.

"Harrion Karstark, Arthur Glenmore, Cley Cerywn, all options in the North, and then South, many eligible Heir's to Castle's, and then Prince Joffrey, you know how Robert wishes to unite our houses" Sansa flinched at the last, her nose wrinkling, though thankfully her Father hadn't noticed, as he plowed on. "Any closeness with your siblings that isn't simply platonic … it's not right, and it's dangerous"

Sansa hated the idea of a betrothal, of being near any of the men her Father had spoken of. She was Jon's, she knew that, it was buried deep in her heart, so deep she would never let go of it; she would never, ever be anyone else's …

"Father" Jon spoke then, as he could clearly see Sansa was on the border of saying something they'd both regret, and he wasn't wrong. Sansa knew they had changes to make before the subjects of Prince Joffrey could come up, Sansa knew she couldn't make it clear now just how little she ever wished to go South, let alone go near the bastard Prince, or how little she wished to ever be anyone else's wife. In her mind she was already a woman wed, and her husband was sat next to her, holding onto her knee, evidently keeping his own frustrations and feeling's at bay.

This they'd spoken about; about how in this world Sansa had been bugging her parents for weeks about going South, had sworn off the Old Gods for the Seven, had been desperate to meet the Prince and be Queen one day - they had laughed at the latter, how desperate she had been to become Queen … and in there world she had been, just not in the way either could have predicted.

"I will say no more" Her Father spoke, stopping Jon in his tracks, "But I don't expect to see the two of you ... interacting in this way again, now Sansa off to your lessons, Jon, you too" And with that he dismissed them; clearly he had more to think over, as did they; they had a lot of thinking to do, a lot indeed.

And so they left the solar, only Sansa glanced back as their Father turned away from them to look at the portrait on the wall, a portrait Sansa couldn't remember; clearly it had been destroyed in their world and she'd never really looked at it in their world. It was a portrait of the Stark family; but not there's, but of Father, his Father Rickard, hand on the shoulder of who had to be Brandon, Benjen next to his side … and then Lyanna, smiling brightly in between her brothers...the Stark's that had come before them … her Father, her Grandfather, and Jon's Mother, all together, it was the last glance she got before the door swung shut behind them, and Jon took her hand, pulling her down the corridor to her room, quickly so they wouldn't be seen, his cloak billowing down her back as she followed him.

They had a lot to discuss.

Once they reached her room, Jon hurriedly shut the door behind them, bolted the door, and pushed a chair against it for good measure. He hurried around to pull a curtain across the lone window, and then turned to her - to Sansa, his Sansa.

As she was his, she would always be his. He'd barely kept it together in his Uncle's solar when he had spoken of offer's to Sansa's hand, and the possibility of her betrothal. Only years of experience of keeping calm and a cool facade allowed him to keep his emotions in check when that subject had come up. It had been difficult, and he knew he had squeezed her knee a bit too tightly, but it was that or lash out and reveal their true position, and his feelings for whom he was supposed to view as his sister.

But she wasn't his sister; never had been, and they had never acted as such. When she had found him at the Wall, and then back in Winterfell … the sibling bond had never been there, and something else had been allowed to grow, to flourish, something deeper than that of siblings, something better, and from there it had spiralled.

He could still remember the first time she had fallen into his arms; it had been an unremarkable day, like any other, and yet when she had come to his room that night; the Lord's chambers (as she insisted he should have), he had been prepared for their usual routine, the usual back and forth chat, and then settling into bed, side by side (nevermind the whispers), to simply hold hands as they drifted to sleep - for neither could sleep without nightmares without one another close, it was easier, comfortable, but that night had differed in that.

Flashback

"I love you Jon" Her voice was soft, but with the edge that had crept in ever since they had been reunited, an edge that spoke of her hardship - part of him wished he could take it away, the other understood it, and simply promised himself he'd never let her voice grow any colder.

"As I love you" And then he had leaned forward to kiss her forehead, as he always did, but in the dark, his lips instead had brushed her nose, she giggled in response, and he too laughed, before realising how close they were, how her hand had come to rest in his hair, how his hand was on her cheek, his thumb smoothing back and forth.

"Jon…" But before she could say another word, he had leaned down, to brush his lips against hers, like the lightest flutter of a butterflies wing, before pulling back, unsure, worried, uncertain … until she had pushed forward, her lips harder against his - soft, but crushing against his, and from there everything had changed.

Afterward, when they had been lying in a tangle of sheets, her cheeks flushed with red, the bloodstains on the sheets ignored, his chest heaving, a thin layer of sweat over their both their bodies, she had spoken, grinning from ear to ear in a way of such abandon he hadn't seen in a while, "I wondered when you'd finally kiss me"

He laughed in response, and rolled back on top of her, and pulled her lips to his once again.

Present

His mind back in the present, he rushed forward, to Sansa - his Sansa then, and pulled her into his arms, where she willingly went, wrapping her arms around him, clutching him close. It had been a crazy morning, a lot on both their backs, and they needed this moment, this moment to just be with one another, to let the tension go. She needed to hold him, to know he was here with her, and he needed to hold her, to know she was his.

This was hard for both of them, he knew that, and yet he felt in terms of loosing their loved one, Jon was in more danger. His Uncle still thought he was on the path to take the black (though Jon knew that was no longer an option; how could he help make change if he was stuck at the wall?), and as a bastard he was in no danger of being married off. But Sansa? That was an imminent danger, one they had made some plans to stop, and yet it still made him shake with fear, the idea someone else would try to take her, try to make her, his. When in Jon's mind she was his, his wife, his love - in fact as he felt her hand against his hair, the lack of a wedding rijng there annoyed him.

He knew he was being possessive, in a way he had only been flashes of before, but his Uncle's words had shaken him; the idea that Sansa one day wouldn't be his. She had worn the ring to match his, had said the words he had in the Godswood, they had pledged themselves to one another forever, and he intended to see that through.

"You're mine" He said into her fire-red hair, the hair he loved so much, the hair that had the wildlings and eventually the Northmen call her 'kissed by fire', "Mine, and I'm not giving you away" He said simply. She didn't reply with words, but a nod into his chest, before bringing her lips to his, a kiss, that they both needed, and melted into, a sigh of relief leaving his lips, and a pleased sigh leaving hers as they kissed, and then broke free, for him to rest his forehead against hers. He felt better for that, more relaxed, as he knew Sansa felt the same way as him; neither would be parted from the other.

"I'm yours" She said simply, and he nodded against her, where they stayed for too long really, and yet neither could pull away.

so thoughts?

I know this chapter isn't heavy on plot progression but I felt it was really important to outline the jon/sansa relationship. Now, as I have said before, this story is firmly jonsa, as you can see, and I felt that needed to be shown here, how they see one another, and the massive problems that will (and already has caused!), cause going forward. sansa/jon are just realising how naive they were going into this, and we'll see that going forward as well!

anyways I do hope you enjoyed, and if you did please please review/sub to this fic! I have other asoiaf fics you can check out as well, all of which will be updated soon! (the first likely being journey).

anyways, speak soon!