Note: Hey! So it's been a while I know. I got suuuppperr busy with my classes, it's the last week of school though (so it totally makes sense that I am posting this chapter now instead of doing the many projects I have yet to do haha) but I'm almost done and ready to finish this before season 7 starts. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, it's a bit different and I hope I don't go too ooc with some of the characters (Tormund) So please let me know what you think as I would love to hear your feedback! Happy reading ;3

The next morning Jon tried to hide his annoyance when he passed by Littlefinger on his way to go and check up on Sansa. He hoped there was no success in whatever the shady lord tried to attempt. But both men blankly nodded as they passed each other.

Jon's annoyance turned to disappointment when he got to Sansa's room and Brienne stood up and shook her head.

"Lady Sansa doesn't want to see anyone today," she said gravely.

"How is she?"

"Still under the weather, and very moody."

Jon nodded, hiding any expression from his face. What he feared came true. But now it reiterates the fact that he and Sansa have a lot of work to do with each other.

"Did she finish the soup I gave her at least?"

Brienne nodded, and handed him the bowl. "I'm really sorry to enforce this, but it's what my lady wishes."

"You're just doing your job, and I'm glad you're doing it well," Jon said as he took the bowl with an understanding smile, and walked away. His face dropped the moment he knew no one could see him.

He jealously admitted to himself that he found comfort in the fact that Brienne was guarding her door, because it meant that there was no way Littlefinger got in.

He dropped the bowl off in the kitchen and gave instructions to make sure more was sent to Sansa, and then he went off to send another letter to Sam. Ever since he had set up in Winterfell, Jon had been communicating with his friend to get him to find more information on how to defeat the white walkers.

On the way, he recalls all the memories of his early days in the Night's Watch. Among those things was his poor brothers who have passed on, being a steward to Jeor Mormont, and all the times he had to remember his vows.

Then, out of nowhere, Ygritte pops into his mind, and Jon's eyes go wide.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," came an all too familiar voice.

Jon focused back into reality, and before him was Tormund. He took a sharp breath and tried to conceal himself. "Maybe I have."

"Whose ghost got you so worked up Snow?" Tormund raised his brow in interest. It made Jon think of his experience with the wildlings. Never did he think that he would get so involved with them, let alone fall in love with one of them.

"Do you want to guess?" Jon asked with a bit of sarcasm.

"Is it someone I know?"

Jon gave the red-haired wildling a half smile, "You don't have to worry about it." He then kept walking.

Tormund quickly followed him. "You know, there's something I've been wondering about you."

Jon stopped, and looked at him but didn't say anything.

"Since you're free of those stupid crow vows, what are you going to do after this war is over?"

Jon knew at this point what Tormund was now onto, and his serious expression dropped. But he quickly tried to combat it. "I don't know if I'll live through this war, but if I do I don't intend to rule. It was never meant for me."

"Nonsense. Look at what have you brought together." Tormund gestured to all of Winterfell.

"It was my sister's idea to do this. And what good will I be just sitting on a throne at keeping peace? I only know how to do war. I don't want to be like Robert Baratheon."

Tormund kept his eyebrow up, and Jon wasn't sure if it had stayed that way the entire time or not. "You will learn. I don't know every detail of your fucked up history here, but your sister seems to have good knowledge of it."

"That's why the throne belongs to her, I'm not good at this." Jon started walking again. He wasn't keen to keep this conversation going and decided it was going to end there.

"I have faith that you'll learn, or maybe some fine lady will come along and teach ya." Tormund's face was slightly smug as he said this.

Jon stopped, and Ygritte was there in his mind again. "I don't know if I can ever dishonor Ygritte…" After saying that, Jon felt a hint of uncertainty.

Tormund chuckled. "She's not the only person you'll ever love Snow, and she's dead. And you've seen death haven't you? If it is as you say, she won't come back to haunt you. How many people do you think I've been through before I found the one I would have children with?"

That statement made Jon very uncomfortable. It put new thoughts into his head he had never considered before in terms of himself. Nonetheless, he decided to go with the answer that was comfortable.

"That life was never meant for me."

Jon walked away after that, only faster this time.

While writing the letter, Jon thought about how Sam must be doing, especially with Gilly and her baby at his side. He wondered what that was like, and then immediately cursed himself for thinking about it. It wasn't long after that that he stopped writing and got lost in all those thoughts.

Will he make it through the war? And if not, then who would he marry if he were to stay a king?

Sansa was his first thought.

It sent shivers down his spine. He suddenly wondered if she was doing any better. He wanted to see her, not realizing where he was mixing his thoughts with.

Jon wished he could just run away from it all. He really wanted to.

After finishing the letter, He started in the direction of Sansa's chambers, really determined to storm in there and stay with her until she was better. But then he stopped, realizing it was probably disrespectful.

He stood in the middle of the courtyard pondering what he should do, whether it was storming into her room or going back to his own to sleep his frustration off. All at the same time he felt he should be active.

Somewhere in his indecisive frenzy, Jon noticed that Littlefinger was watching him. He immediately went calm as their eyes met.

"You seem troubled," The lord said with a hint of a smirk on his face. All the while Jon made himself look calm, but he didn't feel calm. "Maybe I can be of use to you, your grace." The way the last two words sounded on his tongue was very honeyed.

"I don't think you can help me."

"Oh but I can, because I imagine it concerns our lovely lady Stark." Anyone passing by could see the smirk on Littlefinger's face now. "I happened to notice your visit to her chambers this morning was very short."

Jon took a couple steps toward him. His face was still calm but inside he was raging. If Jon could confirm this man was of no use to him, there would be no need to hold himself back.

"I only went in there to check on her, there was no need to stay as I am a busy man."

Littlefinger gave him a short nod, "You can't fool me."

Jon raised his eyebrow, "I'm not trying to fool you, it's the truth." He wondered if Littlefinger slipped up, or if he said that on purpose. "I notice you have been absent on our war council meetings. May I ask why?"

"Because the Lady of Winterfell isn't present in them, though she should be."

"We've already decided our roles. Yours is the only one I have a hard time trying to figure out." He walked even closer to Littlefinger now.

With that, both men tensed up, and Jon's frenzied state was starting to slip.

"I'd watch out if I were you, because the whole south will be on my side if it comes down to us. You have your home back because of me."

Jon shook his head, and took a breath calming himself slightly.

"Sansa is the reason I am standing here. She is the only reason."

"And now she won't talk to you, so what good is that?" The smirk was fully present on his face, and with that Jon fell right into his trap.

He looked around, making sure no one was watching, and then he slammed Littlefinger against the wall. "You don't know anything about our relationship!" His voice was low, but if it were any louder the people in the courtyard not paying attention would hear him.

The discomfort on Littlefinger's face was satisfying, and it was enough for now. But Littlefinger still had his wits about him. "Your strength is nothing to me. You think you are the first man to do this? You're wrong."

Jon let go of him, and his nostrils were flaring so much that little puffs of white smoke were coming out every time they did.

"You're no use to me. I think you have done enough here. This is your last warning." He walked off in the direction of Sansa's chambers, his mind completely made up.

Arriving there, he noticed that Podrick was now standing guard at Sansa's door, and when Podrick stood up Jon raised his hand, blocking Podrick's attempt to stop him.

Jon tried the doorknob, and was relieved to find it was unlocked.

But the moment he stepped in and looked around, he saw something he knew he shouldn't have seen.

Sansa was wrapped in a cloth, and she looked so fragile and broken. Her eyes were red, and it was the first time that Jon had seen so many bruises on someone who was meant to be a lady, and it was shocking. His heart broke for her.

"What are you doing?" Sansa asked after a few moments of silence and the two of them now in a locked gaze.

"I-" Jon struggled for words, he was trying to take in the scene. He had just walked in on his sister, not knowing he would catch her in this state. But finally he took a deep breath, and slumped a bit.

"I didn't want you to be alone and anymore, and neither do I." He looked at her with worry now, even though there was probably a bit of embarrassment in there as well.

There was so much fear in Sansa's eyes, and Jon felt absolutely terrible for intruding, but he was there to make a point, even if it made them both uncomfortable.

Tears fell from her eyes finally, and she nodded. "Will you please wait outside- While I change? We can talk after that, I promise."

Jon turned red, and he quickly nodded and stepped out. But embarrassment aside, he was relieved. Maybe it was another step into their strength. They're going to need all that they can get.