authorsnotes: I have been overwhelmed by the response to this story, ty!

a couple of things I did need to clear up:

1) characters are a touch aged up, time reset is to 3 weeks before the Kings arrival. Sansa 14, Jon/Robb 15, Arya 11, I'll clarify other key ages as we go along.

2) rated m, violence/language, some explicit stuff will come up

3) jonsa firm, have I not made that clear? lol

let me know watcha think!

songrecs: something just like this - coldplay

'My skin has turned to procelain, to ivory, to steel'

- Sansa Stark

-x-

The darkness consumed all, every inch of their world, it didn't stop, it didn't hesitate, and it was the very last thing she saw before Jon pulled her to his chest to shield her from whatever they had called forth.

Even as she had closed her eyes against the unrelenting darkness, she felt it around her, ripping everything away, turning it all to ash and dust. Both fear and hope consumed her at the same time, as the darkness swallowed all around them. It was suffocating, and yet as afraid as she was, Sansa knew deep down it would be okay; she was with Jon, her husband, he would keep her safe, he would ensure she met no harm.

It felt like hours passed, with the darkness surrounding them, but in reality, it was only minutes, it took only minutes for the world to fall in on itself, for the world they knew to fall away. The words they had chanted, their blood spilled on the banks of the weirwood.

It took only minutes for their decision to change everything.

It had been a long journey getting here, and yet Sansa had never lost hope, had never allowed the continual failures and setbacks to break her spirit. She had known it would be possible, she had known it was something that could happen in this world so filled with magic. She had shaken off Jon's cynicism, had accept the sleeplessness nights if it meant they could achieve what they had so hoped for. It had come with risks, and even she had almost had cold feet at the end, but it was worth it.

It had to be.

And as the darkness pooled around them, and she clutched Jon as tightly as her arms would allow, all she could hope, all she could think, all she could plead with the gods, was that it had worked.

As soon as she opened her eyes, she knew it was different. She wasn't sure how it was different or how she instantly knew it was, but she knew it was different, she just knew.

For one it was warmer than it had been, she had left behind the harsh winter for a much warmer climate, the North was always cold, but this felt like autumn, not winter. Second, she knew she was inside, on a bed, a soft bed, but a smaller one, she lifted her hand to the side and felt out, and realised it was a lot smaller than she was used to. She also felt different in herself, her body, her mind, and then it dawned on her … she remembered!

When they had been preparing this the uncertainty had always been there; would they remember their old lives? Would they come back only to forget all they had experienced? As her eyes shot open the question was answered; she remembered!

She was in her old room, the place of her childhood that she had so missed over the years, the place she had dreamed about time and time again. It was her own bedroom, with her own things, her dolls from her Father on the dresser, a stack of books on the end table, her own blanket, her own clothes hanging in the wardrobe. It was all here! With shaking hands, she pulled herself out of bed and walked to the wardrobe mirror.

As soon as she saw her own reflection she almost felt as though her knees would buckle. She was young once more. Not a day past her 14th nameday! A small squeak left her lips as she took in her appearance; a teenager once more. Part of her was saddened, that she had lost the body of a woman, that she had been reverted to the cusp of childhood … and yet, a bigger part of her was happy. Surely this meant one thing?! Surely this meant she had returned! Surely this meant their plan had worked!

It was almost too much for her, the reality of it all, and she felt her knees buckle beneath her, and the tears streaming down her cheeks. Soon she was kneeling on the floor of her old room, of the place that represented a childhood she had foolishly abandoned. And she was crying, not out of pain, not out of sadness, but out of sheer joy. This was it; this is what they had been hoping for, dreaming of, praying for, and it had worked.

It had worked.

But then she realised, it hadn't just been her plan … what about Jon? Fear flickered and her smile soon fell.

What if he didn't remember?

Her breathing came out in gasps then as the idea dawned on her, and she knew there was only one way to find out, only one way to find out if Jon, her Jon was lost to her … or to find out if it had all worked out perfectly, as they had so hoped.

Please Gods, let it have worked out perfectly, just this once, just this once.

She hoped the Gods were listening.

With shaky leg's she stood herself up; she needed to get dressed, to go to Jon's room, by the armoury, separated from his cousin's rooms. Anger flared up in her then, as it had many times over the past months … and she recalled one of their more difficult conversations when they had been preparing for this plan…

"Going back may be the right thing, the thing to reunite us all and change this future but Sansa …" Jon had paused then, as he often did when in deep thought, his face tensing as the ideas in his mind washed over him. Jon was a far better liar than her Father, and yet not quite as good as she. Still, they never lied to one another, never hid anything from one another and so she didn't interrupt. Simply waited for what he would say.

"Your past was much rosier than mine"

She had let out a small sigh then, shame creeping up her spine, before reaching across for his hand, taking it in hers, their golden rings glinting in the candlelight next to one another; simple bands, gold, with no etchings on his, but one small diamond on hers, bands they had exchanged whilst vowing their devotion to one another. Sansa still smiled when she thought of that day, when she looked at the rings, the proof of their love.

"Jon, I know that, but we'll change things, we'll make it better. I will not let my Mother …" She had paused too then, anger washing over her. She had always loved her Mother, always would, but now? Now she viewed Catelyn Stark with a very different view than she had held when a child.

"I will make things better for you, as you will for me, I swear it, by the Old Gods and New"

He had nodded then, letting it go for the moment. That was the whole point of this endeavour, to change things, and Sansa would be damned if she allowed Jon to be mistreated. They had always promised to protect one another, and Sansa had made herself another promise then, sitting at that table, hands clasped, his cloak around her shoulders, another promise.

'I will make you happier' A simple promise, but one she had vowed to stand by … if their insane plan had ever panned out of course. She would not let him hurt, never again.

And their lips had met to seal the promise, the one she took to her heart.

She'd never see him hurt again.

She would stand by that promise, she thought to herself as her mind reeled back to the present. They had known this journey would be challenging, changing so much, and yet they had both agreed it would be worth it, like cutting off a limb to save the rest of the body, sometimes sacrifices had to be made in order to achieve what they needed.

Sansa yanked herself back to the present then, she needed to get to Jon, to see him, to see if he was in the same mindset as she was. Cold fear trickled down her back as she worried, as her anxiety threatened to wrap around her throat and choke her, like the cold chilling hands of winter. She couldn't help but be fearful, fearful that Jon … her Jon, wouldn't remember what they had shared, wouldn't remember what they had become. That would be worse than anything, she was sure she would have rather died than have lost Jon.

"Please Jon, please" She whispered to herself, as she stood in front of the mirror, her hands balled into fists at her sides, preparing herself to leave the room, to go to him, but terrified of what she might find, "Please remember"

"I could never forget"

Her heart stuttered as she heard those words whispered back to her, and she flew around to the door so fast she almost slipped. In the doorway stood Jon, her Jon.

Yes, he looked different, younger, his hair a little longer, his beard shorter, still muscular, but less so, a little more boy than man… and yet to her he looked perfect. She could see it in his eyes, the way he held himself; like a man grown, this was her Jon, she knew it.

He was here, she could feel it, and she near cried out in surprise, relief threatening to cripple her.

Instead, a choked gasp left her lips, and her hands flew to her mouth, and the tears began again. It had worked. Everything they had hoped for had worked, and importantly it had all worked. They had returned, returned to the past to fix the mistakes that had been made, and yet they both remembered that future, that future that neither of them had wished to forget. They may have come back to change the future, but never what they had shared. Sansa would never change what they had shared.

"Oh Jon" She whispered back, and then they were running at one another, he ruffled, having clearly hurried to dress, and she in her nightgown still, and yet neither cared. Neither cared as they crossed the distance of her room in seconds, and she threw herself into his arms, her arms winding around his neck, his clasping around her waist. A strangled sob left her lips, and she heard his gasp … that this was real, this had happened, that she could feel him as she wrapped herself around him and he could feel her, this was real. They were home, and yet they were still together, it was everything they had dreamed of, everything they had hoped for.

Sansa had not felt joy like this, true perfect unimpeded joy like this in years. She sobbed as she clung to him, and she heard him cough to cover up his tears as he held her as tightly as he could without hurting her. She held onto her beloved and revelled in the moment.

They had done it.

It took several minutes for her to let go of him, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he finally managed to place her on the bed and sit next to her, discreetly wiping his own eyes as he placed her down. Even then she couldn't remain unconnected, her hand remained clasped in his, her legs thrown over his, touching, always touching, warmth lighting up both of them. She knew she was smiling like a maniac, as was he.

They had never dared to hope things would work out this well, and it showed on their faces; the surprise, and yet the utter happiness that it had.

Thank the Gods, thank you.

"We did it" He said, lifting her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles, and she found herself giggling, out of pure happiness, unimpeded and clear. "We did it Sansa"

They were both probably in a little shock, completely taken aback that it had worked.

"We did" She replied back, and that set him off laughing, and her own giggles followed, both were on a high too elevated to be serious for a moment, the shock turning into laughter. It was Jon who bought them back down; serious Jon, who only ever showed her, and a few select others his playful side. He indulged her for a few moments as she giggled and kicked her feet and clutched at him before pulling her too him with a smile, and her giggles came to an end. The words unspoken between them were of such gravity the laughter stopped as the shock peeled away…

They had travelled back in time.

She had never really thought it out loud before, never voiced it. They had travelled back in time, reversing all the years of pain, and suffering they had both felt.

For her; being a captive in King's Landing, escaping to the Vale, escaping again this time from Baelish, making her way to the Wall, the Wildlings, the Others, the barely scraped victory, the loss, the suffering.

She had become a different person, retaining some of her childhood, but she'd grown more suspicious, colder, the influence of Cersei, Baelish, Olenna all setting in to her, making her a player of the game, and none determined to win.

For him; running to the Wall, the losses there, the Wilding's, the loss of his first love, the pain of betrayal, rising from the dead, and then the same barely scraped victory, and the loss and pain that followed.

He was different too, more so, coming back from the dead had carved out a part of his soul and left it cold. He was more clinical, ruthless, he loved her, loved the North and their people, but would see any who threatened them burn for it, or meet the sharp edge of Longclaw.

Now … none of that had come to be, they had reset the clock, the future they had lived and breathed and felt … that was gone now, gone, they had turned things back.

Of course, they were different, and would remain so; Sansa was still a woman now, in the body of a teenager, she still had that mind whirling, like a wheel of cart, and Jon, Jon was a man grown in the body of a teenager, a man grown who had seen battle and killed men twice his age, who had led troops into war and shouldered that burdened.

But they had made it, they may be changed, but the future remained to them, to paint as their own.

"When are we?" Jon asked, interrupting her musings then, and she stood to her feet, Jon one step behind her. He went to the window, she to her desk.

"Looks to be near the end of Summer" Jon called, and Sansa nodded.

"My journal makes it clear we came back when we wanted, about three weeks until the King comes" Sansa said, and turned back to Jon then, slipping into his embrace once more, barely able to be apart from him, for her worry they'd be parted forever.

Three weeks, less than a month before the King would arrive and try to rip the wolf pack apart forever; they couldn't let it happen, their first challenge would be to prevent it, to prevent the scattering of the pack.

Their laughter was gone now, as they realised the now actually had to do it.

They had a future to change.

He couldn't quite believe it.

He had always been more cynical about this plan, mainly following it for Sansa's sake, never truly believing it would pan out but going along with things for his wife.

And yet it had worked.

When he had awoken that morning, he had known where he was immediately. In truth, he had only taken a minute or two to mull it over, to accept this new reality, before panic had infiltrated his system. He had spent about a minute looking around his old room, not quite believing what he was seeing, before something much more pressing had hit him.

He had hurried, pulling on clothes, a tunic, breeches, boots, his cloak, weapons belt, sword strapped to his side he had barely glanced at himself in the mirror, annoyed at his smaller frame, and more boyish looks, but that still hadn't been his focus. He had barely been able to realise that Ghost was with him, as small as he could remember, before he had bolted out the door, ran across the yard, and made his way to Sansa's room.

Because, yes, he was back, and that did fill him with joy, true joy, but he had known as he had hurried into Sansa's quarters … it would all mean nothing if his wife didn't remember him, if he was alone in this, it would mean nothing.

He'd rather have died.

He had never felt luckier than when they had embraced, clear as day to both of them that everything had worked out; even the timing, everything had worked out.

Evidently the Gods had been smiling down on them, and Jon had barely been able to stop smiling himself, even giving way to join Sansa's infection laughter before pulling her close. They had done it, truly done it, they had made it, and even though Jon was usually the more serious of the two, he had taken a moment just to pull Sansa into a hug, kiss her forehead, and hold her tight, revelling in that it had worked.

But then, he had, had to pull away, unable to just luxuriate in Sansa (as much as he wished it).

They had things to discuss.

Even Sansa had fallen quiet, and as he looked at her, he could see that she felt the same, that this was serious; that neither of them had quite realised the seriousness of the situation. They had spent so much time focusing on how to get back, they hadn't thought a lot about what would happen if they got back.

Now they had to face that, but at least they'd be able to do it together.

"We need a plan" Sansa said then with a nod, but a smile crept into her features, it was odd to see her younger, but then she still looked much the same, just less innocent, he was glad she had some of that back, "But for a minute I just want to be with you"

As much as Jon knew they should focus and plan, he could never deny his wife her happiness. And so, with a roll of his eyes and a giggle from Sansa he pulled her to him, flopped back on the bed and bought her mouth to his in a kiss. Perhaps they could bask in this, just for a few minutes more…

An hour or so passed, and yet neither of them were inclined to move. He'd shifted to lie on his back, and her head rested on his chest, her finger stroking down the front of his tunic, his fingers playing with her hair, in a way he knew she loved. Both were clearly completely content, and though Jon had initially only planned to relax for a few minutes he didn't want to move, and he knew Sansa was happy on his chest, and so he remained, a little smile on his face as his fingers played with her fiery locks.

"Jon" Her voice was music to his ears, even if it was a little more childish. Both of them had reverted to a younger age, both had lost the hard touch of adulthood, and yet as annoying as it was to have reduced strength, and to feel more like a boy than a man again, Jon knew it was worth it, just another small sacrifice to get them here, the place they had dreamed of.

It was all worth it.

"Jon" His name on her lips again, something he would never get sick of. "Jon…"

"No" He muttered back in protest, and her felt her shakes of laughter against his chest before he heard her giggles. He too was smiling, still stroking her hair, "I know what you're going to say" He said, "So, how about we skip the serious part for the moment?" He said with a grin.

He knew they needed to talk, to plan, to move forward, but as she had asked him, he wanted the same for a few moments more; to simply bask in one another.

And so, a few moments more passed before he knew if he didn't sit up and get serious, he would never move. He knew she felt the same, wrapped in his arms, he could even see her smiling when he looked down at her, and so with a groan followed by a whine from her, he sat himself up and pulled her to sit up with him, though still close, her legs flung over his lap, his hands on her thighs.

"So" He knew he would need to begin. As much as he loved Sansa, and knew she was a better liar than he, he was also the one more likely to think of every detail, every possibility, every outcome, and they needed that now, Jon had a brain for considering ever angle, every possibility, which had always made him so skilled at combat. It would come in use now as well.

They had much to think over; how would they assimilate to all of this? How would they change things to ensure the Stark pack never scattered as it had? How would they stop the threats that had almost wiped them out before? How would they remain together?

So much to consider, so much to cover, and not nearly enough time.

"So" He began again, but then he heard a scuffle at the door and that had them jumping out of bed, their laziness disappeared, Jon on alert immediately. He knew he had a look of worry on his face, as did Sansa … they needed to give off the impression everything was the same, and he being here, in Sansa's room, her in her nightgown, he ruffled looking, would not give that impression.

That was one key thing; they could hardly display a relationship to all of Winterfell, when everyone presumed, they were siblings, his Uncle, Lord Stark knew the truth of course but had no idea he knew.

No, they would have to hide this … for now.

"Hello?" Sansa called out, both of them stood, now fraught with tension, however as no one answered, Sansa slipped around to the door, and he watched her every step, stepping back into the shadows, hand on his sword.

And yet they needn't have worried, as Lady simply ran into the room, annoyed at being locked out of her mistresses' quarters, a snobby little look on her features that had Jon laughing in relief as she trotted inside. For Lady, it was a minor grievance to be locked out, and yet Sansa near collapsed as her direwolf (now very much alive), bounded into the room.

Jon rushed forward then, closing the door shut, and then hurrying to Sansa's side, ready to give comfort or support. But he was completely ignored, as Sansa wrapped her arms around (a now very confused) Lady, to hold her close, sobbing into her white and grey fur. Jon wasn't surprised in truth, Ghost had become enamoured with Sansa in the future they had left behind, and though he had still been by Jon's side around the Castle, every night he had curled up at Sansa's feet, so close to her.

Yet, to see her reunited with her own direwolf warmed something in him, and he smiled down at her. He saw Ghost pad into the room behind Lady and he grinned as his own direwolf, so small now as he settled down next to him.

It took several minutes of coaxing Sansa to release Lady, (who he had forgotten lived up to her name and put with several minutes of Sansa crying over her, fussing over her, and clutching her, only bounding off when Sansa released her, and only managing to look mildly annoyed), and get her sat back on the bed.

"Gods I missed her" Sansa said, wiping at the tears on her cheeks.

"I know" He responded with a smile, wiping away the tears she had missed, before smoothing a lock of her hair behind her ear, in a way he knew she liked, "And I'm happy for you. But we need to figure out how we're going to reunite with the rest of the family without either of us breaking down" He said.

They were both good at checking their emotions now, used to being stoic in the face of diplomacy, never betraying themselves, Sansa especially had learned how to school her expressions, and yet this would be their biggest challenge in that regard.

"Okay, we just need to keep it together in front of the family" She said with a nod, reaching out to scratch Lady's fur as she'd jumped onto the bed, Ghost settling down next to Jon, "No crying, keep our relationship hidden"

"Act just as we were as children. You ignore me, I'll brood" He said with a smile, trying to add some levity.

"That hasn't changed" Sansa teased but sadness had fallen over her; she had ignored him as a child, and shame still licked at her for that he knew, though he'd long forgiven her.

"Make sure you don't outdo everyone on the practice yard" Sansa added, and he nodded, he'd need to temper his skill, though his younger body would help in that regard.

He knew this would be hard, they had both known this would be hard, and yet they had tried their best to prepare for it, in any way possible. They had recounted what they had been like in their younger years, they had gone over their old interests and hobbies. Jon had told Sansa she would need to act in a more innocent fashion, and Sansa had reminded him that he would need to be careful on the practice field, now having more combat knowledge than likely anyone in Winterfell. Jon had reminded Sansa she would need to be snobbier, and Sansa had told him to be more brooding. And yet, now confronted with the reality of it all, they both knew it would be hard.

"Okay" She said with a nod, "I should get dressed"

"And I should head back to my room and clean-up" He said, standing to his feet, and she followed his lead. He smiled at her though, turning back to stand in front of her. This was all they'd hoped for, and yet Jon knew it would be difficult, they had much to figure out, a lot of acting to do, and a difficult path forward … and yet it would all be worth it, they both knew, it would all be worth it.

"I love you Sansa, and I'll see you at breakfast" He said with a smile, before leaning down to place a kiss first on her forehead, then on each cheek, before finally on her lips, lingering for just a moment before breaking free.

"I love you too, see you at breakfast" She replied, mimicking his words with a smile as he moved out of the room, and closed the door behind him. This would be hard, and yet it would be worth it, they had both known it would be a tough journey, and yet they had both known; it would be worth it.

It had to be.

thoughts?

let me know, and yes to clarify every chapter (1-7) has had 2023 updates to allow me to continue.

but omg isn't editing your old works cringe af (at least it was for me)?, blugh.