Authors note:

Thank you to all of the wonderful people who reviewed/favorited/followed this story. I appreciate you all. Sorry if they seem out of character at all, I haven't written in so many years so I am trying to get my flow back. Anyways, you all rock. Just so you all know, I get inspired by music, so I may start some of the chapters with a theme song lol or a verse from it that matches the tone. But please no Flamers/ only constructive friendly criticism will even be read.

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or George R Martins characters. My mind doesn't work like his, so please don't expect similar writing. This is just my own fantasy world bleeding out through my keyboard… what I would hope would happen. An alternate incase those of us hoping for a Sansa/Jon outcome don't get what we want.

Chapter 2: I won't let you down

Yeah its plain to see, that baby your beautiful and

there's nothing wrong with you

It's me, I'm a freak, but thanks for loving me,

Cause you're doing it perfectly, there might

Have been a time I would let you slip away,

I wouldn't even try, but I think you could save my life…

Just don't give up, I'm working it out,

Please don't give in, I won't let you down,

It messed me up, need a second to breathe,

Just keep coming around…

Jon paced through the dark room, the fire in the fireplace crackling and sending orange shadows across the room. It was silent. Utter silence as they all processed what Bran had told them all. White Walkers. Blood Raven. Lyanna. Rhaegar. Jon. Targaryen. He was a Stark after all, but his father was not. He was by birth a Targaryen, his mother had secretly married the Targaryen they all thought kidnapped her and raped her. Bran had no reason to lie. Jon's head spun as the voices of the council all whirled around in his head.

"Jon," Bran said sleepily. Jon was at Bran's side, "the white walkers are coming. The winter will only grow colder. You, by birth, have claim to the Iron Throne…"

"Shhhh," Jon hushed stroking his little brother's hair back like he did when he was just a toddler. Brother. Bran wasn't Jon's brother; he was his cousin.

Jon made everyone leave so Bran could rest and get strong. They needed now more than ever to pull together their forces for the wars to come. It was silent, eerily silent, for too long. The enemy was preparing to, and Jon knew this. He could feel it shivering deep inside his bones, freezing him with unspoken terror. Every time he thought of the Night King, he couldn't help but feel the terror he felt all over again. Sansa. She crept into his mind like a warm morning sunrise over a layer of snow, that sweet warmth that starts at your cheeks and covers you the higher the sun rises as it wakes you from your chilly night's sleep. The way they left things, he couldn't stand to hear the hurt in her voice.

Jon walked into the banquet hall to see if he could find Sansa, he needed to talk to her, to confide in her like he had done in the past several months. Her sight stopped him in his tracks. He stood there watching her as she pretended to be interested in the garbage being spat at her by several young suitors squabbling over her like a childhood play toy. Something in him began to boy as one of them grabbed her hand as he cooed at her. Was this jealousy he wondered as he walked towards them, his heart racing with every step closer to her.

"Sansa," was all he could say as he grabbed her hand and pulled her from her chair. She looked as startled as the three young men beside her. He then proceeded to pull her through the hall to a more private location, "What are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" Sansa's confusion turned to anger, "what are YOU doing?"

"Saving you from those prowling no good…"

"I've decided to take a husband, if it will help us gain favor by joining houses, then I suppose I should do my part," Sansa said sticking her chest out and holding her chin high trying to pretend like she had already moved past his rejection.

"Oh Sansa," he said putting his head in hand as he sighed and turned from her. How could she choose this?

"What do you want from me, Jon?" Sansa said, feeling frustrated. He said nothing, unable to think, unable to move. She grabbed his arm and tugged until he faced her, she stared him straight in the eyes, "we're now Jon, WHAT do you want from me?"

"I don't know," he whispered trying to look away from her.

"What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing, your beautiful Sansa," he looked back up at her and grabbed her by her shoulders with such a force for a moment she was scared, he forgot for a moment the brutality she faced from the last man who vowed to protect her, "I'm sorry. I would never hurt you. Sansa, you must know, it's me that is wrong. There is something broken, the things I feel…"

"How do you feel?" she rushed quickly interrupting his train of thought, "put your pride and honor aside Jon, and tell me."

"Honor and Pride is all I have," he said looking back at her intensely.

"Where did it get you before?" she asked. "What good will that do you now?"

"I don't know," he shook his head still holding her arms, holding her in place so she couldn't slip away, "you don't have to marry anyone, Sansa, ever."

"So I should be alone, forever?"

"That's not what I meant," Jon released one of her arms,

"Jon, let's be realistic. I'm a woman, I'm not a little girl. Though the idea of marrying someone I don't love makes me feel sick, but that's what my duty entails. It's the honorable thing to do," Sansa sounded like she meant it even though her insides screamed out for him to call her bluff, "I've already talked to Lord Baelish…"

"Little finger," Jon spat with disgust, "you talked to him about what Sansa?"

"His proposal, though not unexpected, is a fair one, one we could use," she said softly.

"Over my dead body," Jon said shaking his head.

"Don't joke," Sansa said angrily, he had died once before and nearly again at the battle against Ramsay.

"Sansa, I do not joke, not about this," he said taking her hands in his, "there is a thin line between the dark side and the light side Sansa, Little Finger walks a dangerous line… why again is it not unexpected?"

"I cant pretend that no feelings formed in my time with Peyter. My feelings are not quite the same as his, I feel I owe him for the protection, and making me feel safe when I thought I could not," Sansa tried to pretend like all that hadn't washed away after he left her to Ramsay's cruelty.

"Sansa, no, he left you to a monster," Jon placed a gentle hand on her cheek, "you owe him no debt…"

"What of my pride and my honor?" Sansa said with aggression as she pulled away, "how come you can live up to yours but I cannot mine…"

"Sansa!" Jon said loudly as she stormed off, her crimson dress twirling behind her, almost as majestic as her silky red hair tied up in beautiful knots. She should be the Queen of the North. She fits the part. Jon shook the thought from his head as we went to his chambers, ignoring his guest and councilmen seeking. As he walked through the hall he saw Little Finger sitting at the table quietly, smiling, calculated as always. He knew the dangerous games that man played, and he knew he would drag Sansa down with him. Jon sauntered majestically over to Little finger and frowned at him, "you'll not have Sansa."

"My Lord, though I appreciate your opinions of the matter, it will not persuade me from making her mine. I can give her everything as her husband. What will she gain from staying here, as a widow, alone…" Lord Baelish made some points that Jon hadn't thought of, "though I wish to have your grace's approval, all I need is the beautiful Sansa's answer."

"She would never wed a snake," Jon said, hatred in his eyes. Not his Sansa. Not that snake.

"I only have her best interest at heart, she makes me a better man. Surely you of all people can see the wonderful effect she as on one's heart. I will give her everything and never leave her wanting for anything," Little Finger, calculated, strategic. Jon just walked away and headed back for his chamber. What could he truly off her here… if she truly wanted to marry another who was he to say no? Jon couldn't sleep so he decided to go and make things right with his sister… no, his cousin? He knocked on the door and it wasn't long before he saw Sansa, either teary eyed or sleepy eyed, he couldn't be sure. She held her candle holder in one hand, the flame sent licks of light across her beautiful pale skin, her long flowing red curls, and her beautiful silky purple dress. He found his eyes wondering again.

"Jon?" she asked before opening the door further to let him in.

"Sansa, I can't sleep, not until we make amends," he said stepping in. He found himself surprised she closed the door behind her.

"I can't sleep either," Sansa said softly. He watched as her cheeks flushed and her breathing quickened.

"Why?" he asked stepping closer. She took a step back but her gaze did not leave his. She sat on her bed, and she patted for him to come sit. He did as she bid, "I've come to tell you I cannot and will not stop you from making your own decisions…"

"Jon," she said seeing he was trying hard to not choke on his words.

"I just, I… don't know," he said, losing his train of thought being that close to her. He found himself surprised when Sansa had climbed into his lap straddling him, "Sansa…"

"Jon, don't," she said not letting him move her. She looked him in the eyes before kissing him. He couldn't hold it back himself, he hands found their way in her hair as he pulled her closer, passion guiding and fueling his kiss. He pulled away trying to regain himself, "Jon…"

"Sansa, we cant," he moaned trying to push her aside, but she was like a wall, she would not be moved.

"You're not my brother, I always knew you weren't Jon… even as a kid you felt more like a childhood friend, not a sibling," Sansa spoke fast wanting him to understand.

"I don't want to hurt you, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to. This still feels wrong," that was a lie, it felt right to him.

"Our own grandparents were cousins Jon, its common. Even sibling marriages have been arranged. Jon, please. Please listen to me," she said taking his face into her hands. She moan softly, "I want this…"

"I do to," he whispered almost in defeat, "our, I mean, your father would never approve…"

"I think your wrong… I didn't know it then, but he once told me he would find me some one strong, brave, and gentle… Jon, he meant you. He was going to eventually tell you what I heard from others about you. It was always you," she said gently biting her lip. He stared at her in amazement. She didn't give him a chance to think about it. She crashed her lips to his. Between breathless kisses she whispered, "I don't want anyone but you…"

"Oh Gods Sansa," he moaned as he kissed her along her jawline and trailing down her neck. Her hands quickly reached for his coats and fumbled as she tried to undo them. It was at that moment it dawned on her she had never made love, she had been forced to be bred like livestock, but never what she should have experienced. He helped her shaky hands before flipping her over so he was on her. His fingertips traced her body as he began to kiss her again. His hand glided down her smooth thigh sending every nerve in his body into a panicked frenzy, he wanted her bad. His hand glided back up bring her silk dress with it, lifting until it reached over her head. He then began to kiss her skin, from her bellybutton all the way down until he reached between her legs.

"Jon," she squeaked, unsure of what he was doing.

"Do you trust me?" he asked from down between her legs. She bit her lip and nodded. He then began to kiss her inner thighs making his way to a special spot she didn't realize was there. She let out a gasp and a moan as he began to kiss and lick her. One hand grasping her pillow the other grasping his dark curls and she tried to control what was happening to her body. It wasn't long before he could taste how wet she had become. She moaned his name and that seemed to even excite him more. He couldn't wait, he started trailing kisses back up her body until he was over her looking down at her, "I want you so bad…"

"Jon," she said through hollow breathes her hands in his hair. He gently lowered down until he was all the way inside of her and she let out a gasp of pleasure. She didn't know that it could be that good, that she could ever want this to happen. Her nails dug in his skin as he moved in and out gently, the faster he moved the tighter her legs seemed to quiver against him. When she moaned his name again he couldn't hold back until he let it all out inside of her. Collapsing on her, his head on her bare chest, one hand in her hair, the other making patterns on his back. A part of him asked what they had just done… a bigger part didn't care if it was wrong or right, he was happy. But now what were they to do?

Alrighty people, sorry for the quick rushed chapter. I won't have internet access til Monday so I wanted to get this up and out there, I just couldn't wait… I had to get them together. All the obstacles that can come between them… oh no! The troubles haven't even begun yet!