Authors note: Thank you to those fueling my will to keep going, I am going to try and branch out some. Hopefully start bringing in some more big players. Writing keeps me from thinking too much about my cousin... who I miss so much already. This will have some Sansa Little Finger flirting building to a closer relationship for them.

Chapter 5: A small gift

Remember those walls I built, well baby they are tumbling down,

They didn't even put up a fight, they didn't even make a sound,

I found a way to let you in, but I never really had a doubt,

Standing in the light of your halo, I got my angel now,

It's like I've been awakened, every rule I had you breaking

It's the risk that I'm taking I aint ever going to shut you at.

Sansa yawned sleepily, stirring silently as she observed the room around her. Jon's body radiated off a hot heat, almost like a wolf, that kept her warm. He smelled of ale and earth, he smelled desirable to her. It was a sweet and rich smell. He smelled like Jon. A warrior. Strong. Gentle. Brave. Just like her father had predicted. Had Ned been talking about Jon, or was it just a coincidence. How different their life might have been had their father just told them about Jon's parentage. It made sense to her, that her father would protect Jon even if it meant dirtying his honor, lying about an affair he never had. She always resented her father for doing that to her mother, and now she felt guilty at the pain and hardship it must have cost her father to keep Jon a secret.

Jon rolled over, his face peaceful as he slept, exhausted from the ravishing the night before. Sansa tried to hold back her smile as she watched his face. She stared trying to memorize his face, knowing that things would be changing. He was the only love she had ever really known, and a part of her hated him for this. Nothing else could break one's heart like this, nothing but true love. Why couldn't it be easier? Why did he have to be so damn handsome, and so kind… one of a kind. At that moment she wondered if she was worthy of such an incredible warrior. Jon's eyes opened before she could pretend to be asleep.

"Were you watching me sleep?" he jested, a small Jon like smile teasing her, "that's creepy Sansa…"

"What? King Jon, I think your head is going to be too big for your crown." She nudged his shoulder making him laugh while avoiding her feeble attack before looking back at her with a serious face.

"My heads always been too big for a crown," he said grabbing her waist and pulling her to him, pressing their bodies close together. His lips landed on her soft lips as he wanted to make her completely his. Her lips parted slightly letting him taste her.

"Your head is perfect for a crown," she whispered breathlessly between kisses, "a kind, gentle, compassionate ruler. One like non before."

"You and that damned flattery, you've already got me, you can stop now," he joked kissing her along her jawline, "you'll be my undoing Sansa Stark…"

"We'll be each other's undoing," she said before letting out a sigh as he nibbled at her neck.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered into her soft pale skin.

"I don't want to either, but what about the Queen," she said trying to get serious, trying to scoot up and away from him, but he just growled and grabbed her hips pulling her back down. She couldn't help but laugh as her hands found his dark curls, his head now between her breast as he playfully kissed between them, "Jon! I'm serious…"

"Fuck em!" he growled crawling between her legs, his hand running down her soft cream thighs, teasing her until he could tell she was wet with anticipation.

"Jon, I'm being serious," she tried to pretend like she wasn't interested, but her body gave her away. She couldn't fool him. His hard member found her slick entrance as he plunged deep into her making her grasp and claw at his back, "oh gods, Jon!"

"I want you Sansa," he growled in her ear before nipping it, "you're mine…"

"I'm yours," she whimpered helplessly under his magnificence.

"And I'm yours," he kissed her gently as her hands slowly slid up his strong muscular arms. The power of him, his strong physic, the sun glistening off his skin. At that moment, there with him, she found herself entangled with a God. He was pure magnificence, and she didn't want anything more, "always and forever."

"You're the realest thing I've never had to fake," she whispered in his ear as he moved in and out of her bringing that feeling deep in her belly to a boiling point. He felt so good inside of her, his touch, his skin, his kiss, his smell… everything was intoxicating. This time he took his time bringing her to her peak before slowing down to tease her until she was begging him to not stop. She came apart first before he finally filled her with his warm seed.

"Sansa," he whispered, breathing heavily still atop her. His hands in her hair as he leaned in to kiss her, "I never thought I could feel anything like this."

"Jon," she tried to not cry at his words. His honesty, something that was hard for him to do was share his feelings. For so long he had felt alone, and finally he felt like he had a partner, "I never thought I could either. I never thought I'd want to be touched again…"

"I'm sorry," he said rolling off her, feeling a fool for forgetting her terrible experiences with men.

"Don't be Jon," she grabbed his hand and kissed it, "you've made me feel like a woman again. You've made me feel strong. Like I've got my power back, and like I can finally move on."

"You're amazing Sansa, no one could possibly possess the kind of strength you have," he said gently touching her face with his free hand.

"Jon," Sansa whispered softly as she reached up to kiss him. It hit her like a ray of sun burning through her darkest night, he was the only one she wanted and she was addicted to his light. This didn't even feel like falling, but she had. She was finally awakened with an eternal hunger… the risk they were taking, the rules they were breaking, it was all worth it to be in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him, he had saved her before she could become a monster; twisted, like Little Finger or the other players of the game. Jon was the good guy, and she knew she had to protect him somehow for as long as she could, "we should go…"

"Face those assholes?" Jon joked, "why must you make me act like a King?"

"Because you're the only one worthy of a crown," she said pulling him closer if it was possible. He kissed her hair and sat up, she watched him, naked under the morning sun that peaked through the windows. She could see the scars that marred his perfectly sculpted torso and sadness hit her. If the Lord of Light hadn't brought Jon back, she'd never know love.

"Sansa, you've too much faith in me," he said softly, feeling the weight of the lives lost in the winning of his crown and the lives lost for him to keep his crown. Without that crown though he could not protect Sansa, he could not bring peace to Westeros.

When Sansa and Jon had entered the council chambers, it was already a buzz. Lady Brienne and Ser Davos had returned with the information they were sent to seek. They had been spying on Kings Landing, keeping Jon updated on if any movement was heading there way. Now that the Dragon queen was here they no longer needed to hold off on attacking Cersei. Revenge was needed for what she had done to the Sept containing the Tyrell household. Cersei had gone quite mad after the suicide of her last child, she had pretty much locked herself in her tower and drank away her sorrow. She made the castle an impenetrable fortress.

"Milady," Brienne smiled as she stood and bowed to Sansa. Sansa smiled warmly at the only other person, other than Jon, that she could trust.

"Ser Davos," Jon smiled as they took hold of each other's forearm, "it's good to have you back."

"Aye, it's good to be back," Ser Davos chuckled before taking a seat next to his King, "I see nothing has plunged into madness while I was away."

"Oh its plenty mad around here," Jon said looking around at the chaos in his council, "Queen Daenerys…"

"King of the North," Danny greeted, as she took seat at her chair. She observed him carefully searching for weakness, and strengths. She observed the fiery red head seated beside him as if she was queen of the north. Based off the information she had gathered about Jon's love life, none had seen him with any maidens… so it clicked. She smiled with only her mouth as she let out a small chuckle, "well dear Nephew, it seems you have Targaryen blood in you yet."

"Milady?" Jon questioned, surprised by the comment. Sansa was not blind to it and her cheeks flared red as she tried to scoot away from him a little. Everyone but a few close observers were as dumbstruck by her comment as the king.

"Let's get down to our business, after all we have a war to start," she moved her blonde hair behind her shoulder. Her ice blue dress revealing much of her perfection, many were not oblivious to her beauty, "I do not wish to be ruled by a king, so I do not wish to be married. I will accept your proposal of you remaining in the North, as long as you remain willing to heed my call when the times arise. We shall be allies, and we shall council with one another once per season shift. I will not intrude your territory nor will you intrude mine, but should we require aid we shall be civil. I am also unable to bear a child, so you will need to find a wife by the time we finish the war with Kings landing you will need to produce an heir before we face the threat north of the wall you've warned me about. You being the last Targaryen means your responsible for keeping the thrones occupied by a Targaryen. You may keep your first born, but your next female child will be my successor as I want my throne continued by women."

"Your grace," Tyrion gasped surprised by her decision, they had agreed the night before that she would wed the young wolf king.

"Enough," she said, her gaze not breaking from Jon's. Jon was pondering this, and he couldn't deny that it was a hard but fair agreement, "your daughter would not be lost to you. You'd obviously be able to visit her whenever. She would remain with you until she has flowered into a woman and then I shall take over raising her."

"I accept your terms," Jon agreed.

"My king," Ser Davos said quietly, "perhaps we should discuss this…"

"There is nothing to discuss," Jon said. "We go to War soon."

"Agreed," said Danny, "I also have one more request Nephew."

"What is it?" Jon asked curious what more she could want.

"I need a third dragon rider; I'd like to spend the time getting to know you. You're the last of my family. Tyrion as my hand is one of my riders, but as the King of the North and the last true son of my brother I'd like you by my side in this battle," her face was serious and calm. Calculated. Jon now had time to figure out what to do about a wife… and about Sansa. This gave him more time to be with her. Sansa sat quietly taking all of this in. Jon would not have to wed for a small while, but he had to wed he had no choice at this point. This brought up her only two options, spend as much time with him as possible… or leave now before she can get hurt.

"I want to name Sansa Stark as the Warden of the North in my absence," Jon spoke loudly so all could hear. He was sensing her anticipation, and he knew what she must be thinking… She couldn't leave if she had to rule.

"Jon," Sansa whispered in a hiss.

"Sansa," he said looking over to her, "we will figure this out."

"You can't… " Sansa tried to protest, but he had looked away. He was ignoring her.

"Shall we all join in the banquet hall for some morning supper?" Jon said trying to distract everyone and make a quick escape for Sansa could reject his demand.

"Jon Stark! I mean... Targaryen?" Sansa fluttered not sure what he wanted to go by. Jon looked surprised, also having not thought of what name he'd take. According to Bran his mother and father had married before conceiving him, so he was legitimately the son of Rhaegar and not a Bastard like he was born to believe.

"Sansa Stark," Jon shook of the thought so he could now give his attention to Sansa, "this is not up for debate."

"Now your ordering me around?" Sansa grew angry with this.

"I am the King after all," he said trying to lighten the mood, but her mood would not be lightened.

"Your head is too big for the crown," she glared before standing up and leaving the council chambers. Jon watched as Sansa had turned on her heals her glorious red hair alive like fire as it spun with her. He couldn't help but smile, even if he knew she was angry with him. That Stark temper of hers seemed to thrill him.

Sansa was startled by Brienne's appearance, the arrow she just had in her bow flew past its mark. In anger Sansa threw her bow down and sat on a bale of hay. Brienne had helped Sansa get secret lessons in the stables away from the horses, both in archery from the old retired archery master, as well as simple sword training from Brienne. Sansa was not good with a sword but she could defend herself somewhat against someone clumsy, but she excelled more in archery. She knew she liked it better because she got to plan and steady herself, unlike when a sword came flying at her head.

"I'm still no good," Sansa placed her hands in her head, it didn't help she had been spending so much time with Jon she hadn't practice in a while, "I'm hopeless…"

"No Milady," Brienne said picking up the bow and weighting it in her hand, "is this what the old master gave you?"

"It's what was left behind here that was still good while they repair and forge weapons," Sansa didn't look up from the ground.

"I have something for you," Brienne said standing straight, towering over the small young woman pouting in the hay. Sansa didn't look up until something glistened in her eye. Brienne held a beautiful white bow, smaller than the one she had been trying to use. It had beautiful roses and horses carved into the hard white base, gold seemed to trail through the carvings.

"Brienne," Sansa gasped standing up to touch it, "it's too much!"

"It's fitting of a young woman as strong as you," Brienne smile a wide awkward smile. Brienne hadn't many friends, always just a toy in one's army. Sansa was the first sense Sir Jamie that made her feel like she had a friend, "I will lay my life down for you milady, but should that happen you need to be able to fend for yourself. This should be light weight enough you can be more accurate, and strong enough it will meet any target."

"Brienne," Sansa wanted to tell her everything, she needed someone else to know, "I…"

"I know," Brienne comforted, knowing to say it aloud could be the end, "you should focus on this for now."

"You're right," Sansa gave a small smile as Brienne bowed and took her leave. Sansa lifted the bow and took an arrow, she pulled back feeling how much more effortless it was and letting it fly. 'Damn it!' she thought it as it still missed. She didn't want to throw her bow down afraid she would break it.

"You're aim is a little off," Sansa perked up hoping to see Jon, but instead she saw Little Finger lurking in the door way, He smiled a wicked teasing smile, "you look good covered in hay…"

"Peytr," Sansa gasped trying to feign shock. For a moment she almost felt the similar feeling she felt during their friendship.

"Sweet Sansa," he crooned before walking to her, "I'm not your enemy, I hope you know this by now."

"I don't know what you are," she mused stepping back. This act did not deter him, he grabbed her by the waist pulling her to him, "Gods, Peytr unhand me!"

"Not your enemy," he whispered in her ear before turning her around so her back was to him. She couldn't ignore the growing bulge pushing against, but she sure tried. Panic filled her as he felt his hands clasp around hers. He lifted the hand with her bow up before grabbing an arrow and placing it in her hands. He slowly lifted her hand, she was nervous but she submitted to him. He made her hold in place the bow for awhile until she could feel the tension.

"Peytr my arm is sore," Sansa said looking back at him.

"Good, it will remember later, this is where you should be holding your bow," he said as he helped her pull the string back, "now touch your lips Sansa."

"Lord Baelish!" Sansa gasped, but he did not budge.

"Listen to me, Sansa, touch your hand to your mouth. Take a deep breath and when you exhale release," Peytr whispered softly into her hair. It sent chills down her body as he did this, she had never noticed how good he smelled. Not good like Jon and his manly musk and fire smell, but he smelled of fine cloth and luxury. He was Little Finger after all, he never lacked in the finer things. When she released she was surprised she hit her target almost where she meant to. She gasped in surprise a large smile on her face.

"Petyr!" she said exactly, he looked at her with small amusement. A young Cat peering back at him with a sparkle in her eye that he had not seen in a long time, "again!"

"As you wish my dear," he said turning her around again and pulling her closer this time.

"Peytr!" she squeaked, he just smiled before lifting the bow and arrow and helping her line up. Right as she was about to release her arrow she was startled again, accidentally jerking her arm and sending the arrow only god knows where.

"What in the seven hells is going on here?" Jon snarled.

"Fuck!" Sansa said after being startled and dropping her weapon. She quickly drew her hand to her mouth realizing what she said, ladies were taught not to use men's curse words, "Jon!?"

"You pretentious prick," Jon growled grabbing Sansa's wrist and yanking her from his competitions grasp, "Sansa what are you doing alone with this snake?"

"Jon! You are being rude! This prick has been a great ally, and was only mentoring me," she said, anger filling up even more, "first you make my decisions for me, and now you control who I spend my time with? Am I your prisoner King Jon?"

"Sansa, we both know the kind of games he is playing," Jon tried to step towards her, but she stepped away from him, "I'm trying to protect you.

"So am I," Lord Baelish said standing beside Sansa, "I've been there for her as much as you have my lord. Sansa is a dear friend of mine, and I am simply helping her learn to defend herself."

"You? Protect?! You sold her to the Bolton's like Cattle to the slaughter!" Jon couldn't control his anger, he knew he needed his allegiance in the wars to come but he knew Little Finger wanted Sansa, "she doesn't need your kind of protection anymore."

"She doesn't need anyone's protection, she is strong now than ever," Little Finger took a step towards Jon. Jon couldn't control himself, one quick swing to Little Fingers face and Peytr was on the floor. Sansa gasped, her eyes wide before dropping beside Lord Baelish. Peytr held his bloody nose as he stood up and smiled. He bowed a small dip and walked out. Jon had a feeling that he reacted how Little Finger wanted him too.

"Jon! What is wrong with you?" Sansa snarled shoving him in the chest, "sometimes I just want to hit you!"

"Sansa, I'm sorry, I was out of line," Jon hoped she would forgive him. He tried to take her hand but she just pulled away grabbing her stuck and leaving him there. He turned on his heels and grabbed her arm, "Sansa enough!"

"No, Jon! You can't control me like one of your subjects," she said trying to push him off. He gently pushed her back into a stall and closed the door behind him, not wanting to leave without her forgiveness.

"We cannot be fighting over Little Finger right now?!" Jon grew mad, "you're not my servant but you are being blind. Fuck, Sansa, can't you see his game?"

"I hate you, Jon," she said out of anger trying to pull from the grip he had on her arms.

"No you don't," he said smiling at her, raising his eye brows and smiling his Jon only smile.

"Yes I do," she tried to look away, but his hand found her chin bringing her eyes back to him.

"Sansa," he said softly kissing her cheek, she had stopped trying to pull away. He whispered her name again softly before kissing the other cheek.

"No I don't," she said softly. Feeling weak in his arms she couldn't pull away from his warmth.

"I'd never ask you to change Sansa, your perfect," he whispered in her ear, "every time I see your face, there is not a thing I would change. Sansa Stark, you're amazing the way you are. The whole world stops and stare's when you smile, if only you could see what we all see. I'm sorry."

"I know," she said wrapping her arms around him. He pulled her in tight and stroked her hair, embracing her, feeling like he couldn't get enough of her, "you're an ass though Jon…"

"I am, I am, and I know I fuck up a lot. I'm new to this Sansa, I don't know how to do the right thing," he whispered not letting go of her.

"You're an idiot," she said pulling away to look at him, "you have to trust me, Jon. You were the one who told me we had to trust each other that we are all we have."

"I am an idiot, Sansa, I know," he said looking deep into her eyes, "I trust you, I just don't trust me. I don't trust Little Finger. I don't trust anyone… but I do you."

"Then stop acting so daft," she said let a small smile escape and he couldn't help but steal a kiss. A kiss that quickly heated up in the chilly stable stall. He grabbed her by the waist lifting her into the air as her legs wrapped around him. He fell back into the wall over whelmed with the sudden need to be in her. Sansa's hand quickly found its way to the lace of his leather pants and loosened it until his hard member sprung loose. He lifted her dress as he lifted her up further her legs still around him, her back now to the stall wall as his hard cock found its way deep into her women hood. She gasped in sweet pleasure as one of her hands reached back to grab the top of the stall. He slid in and out of her with such speed and thrust, as if he couldn't be far enough in her or get enough of her. Her other hand grasped his thick dark curls as he bit at her neck.

"Sansa, I love you," he moaned into her neck before releasing himself inside of her ending in her coming undone with him.

"And I love you," Sansa whispered softly her breaths still ragged as he held her there still inside of her against the wall, her legs still wrapped around his waist, "don't leave me when you go…"

"Sansa," he was surprised but what she had said. How could he take her into another battle, a bigger battle. He placed his hair in her now messed up hair and whispered, "I don't want to.

"Then don't," she tried to hold back the tears.

"We leave in a fortnight, but I need you here," he lied, he needed her by his side. But he also needed her safe. She tried to protest, "who will keep Winterfell from falling apart."

"Do you forget the male Stark whose recovering in his chambers? He will be well soon, he can lead," Sansa released her legs but he moved his hands to be on each side of her head, keeping her pinned in.

"Bran is crippled, Sansa," Jon peered down at the beautiful red head before him. Her body covered in furs to keep from freezing in the cold northern snow. Even covered up she was a picture of perfection.

"That doesn't make him any less capable," Sansa said ducking under his arm. She left the stall avoiding his grasp this time as she took off for the castle. He hated hurting her and he hated telling her no… he hated lying to her. Jon slowly walked out into the stable his feet crunching into the white snow when he heard a familiar voice.

"Fiery spirit that one has become," Tyrion leaned against the stable wall with a pipe from Mereen he was puffing on, "not the same soft spoken wounded little bird I looked after in Kings Landing."

"What do you want?" Jon was in no mood for Tyrion's lessons.

"Nothing, but as the King of the North you should probably be preparing you troops. My queen's army arrives tomorrow and we set off then," Tyrion stood up and walked to the young King, "you'll make a fine king, but I don't envy the sacrifices you'll have to make."

Jon watched as the dwarf wobbled away, knowing that he must know his and Sansa's secret. He hoped the sacrifice would not be Sansa. He couldn't bear to give her up, but he also knew that he was now responsible for so much. How did it get so complicated? Did they really need to leave so soon? How was he going to say good bye to Sansa?