Authors note: thank you to those who have been reviewing to let me know I do have readers. It is beyond appreciated it. So I've been thinking… I will be separating Jon and Sansa for a little while because Sansa is a rebel like that. I will be bringing back Melisandre at some point, because honestly the stupidest mistake Jon's ever made was sending her away. She did something bad, but realistically I think it was the sacrifice needed to save Jon's life. She did as she was told by the Lord of Light, that doesn't make her totally at fault. So I'm thinking a good bromance for her with Sansa to avoid Jon's death threat could be interesting? What do you guys think? Anyways without any further ado… PLEASE REVIEW. Even if it's just a thumbs up.

Chapter 6: The Burning Flower

Jon was in his room pacing when he heard a knock at the door. His heart skipped a beat hoping to see a beautiful red-headed Stark but instead saw Ser Davos. Ser Davos took a seat silently by the fire Jon had ignored all night and poked at its embers until the fire grew in size. The silence was deafening, but both usually preferred silence before leaving for the battle field.

"Are you ready milord?" Ser Davos broke the silence finally what felt like many hours later.

"Aye, as ready as I can," Jon continued pacing.

"You look ill-rested," Ser Davos turned to face Jon.

"I've been waiting…" Jon stopped what he was about to say. He had waited for Sansa to come to him, but she hadn't.

"Perhaps you shouldn't wait," Ser Davos said plainly, "sometimes life is too short to wait. You have to bear the first move."

"I spose your right," Jon sighed, finally stopping his pacing, "how does one say goodbye? Especially when you can't promise you'll return?"

"You start with not promising something you can't keep," Ser Davos said gravely, thinking of the young princess he had promised to see again, the beautiful little smile that now haunted his dreams, "then you make sure to leave when the moment is sweet enough that you know that if you don't return it was a memory to last a life time. No regrets milord, those are the ones that will leave you bare and haunted."

"Thank you, Ser Davos, thank you for your service and your honorable words," Jon smiled weakly at his friend. Between him and Tormund he knew he had the very best council, but Sansa's was his most cherished. He worried how he could survive the distance of home without her. Jon walked out of the door finding the nearest servant to ask for Sansa's location. They reported seeing her leave for her chambers after the last feast. But when Jon went to her chambers she was not there, this concerned him very much. It was passing Bran's room that he heard the sweet sound of her voice, "Sansa?"

"Your grace," Sansa said not looking towards him, only holding her brother's hand.

"What are you conversing about?" Jon asked curiously and quietly.

"Is that another command my lord?" Sansa couldn't quite keep the sound of disdain from her tone.

"No, Sansa, it's a question," he said softly standing behind her.

"We were making arrangements for him to have replacement for…" Sansa's voice broke, saddened by the news of Hodor, Meera sat in the corner watching them in silence, "Bran needs to be able to leave the bed, Jon."

"Aye, your right," Jon said kneeling beside his brother, "It's a good thing Sansa will be here to make sure your fine. But in the meanwhile I've made another seat for you to ride your horse around as soon as you feel strong enough.

"Thank you Jon," Bran said smiling at his brother, "I have much work to do. I appreciate the mobility. Jon…"

"Yes," Jon smiled softly at Bran.

"Find the broken Lion, it will end the battle swiftly" Bran held his cousin's hand, "I'm sorry, I know you don't want to be King."

"Better than letting some prick ruin things ay?" Jon tried to make light of the sacrificing he was making.

"A lot of people will die Jon," Bran said seriously, "you'll want to give up. But you can't. It's at your weakest you'll be strongest."

"Bran you should get some air," Sansa touched his cheek gently.

"I'll tend to him," Meera spoke up finally going to get the new guard who would carry Bran.

"Be safe," Bran smiled as he watched Meera enter with a large strong man. He was no Hodor, but at least he could finally leave the bed.

"When you're ready, your chair is in the stables ready with an amazing horse that will take care of you," Jon clasped Bran's shoulder before getting up to his feet. He extended his hand down to Sansa who was still kneeled at Bran's bedside, "Lady Sansa?"

"King Jon," Sansa said helping herself up. She then proceeded to leave the room, but she did not stop to wait for Jon, she continued down the hall towards her chambers.

"Sansa, where are you going?" Jon jogged lightly to catch up to her.

"I do not wish to speak any further to you Jon," Sansa crossed her arms frustrated with him.

"Then do not speak, just listen," he said grabbing her arm gently and turning her to face him. Sansa was a little surprised by his forcefulness, "you are stubborn…"

"I'm going to bed Jon," Sansa managed to pull from him and walk off again. She wasn't going to sit there and listen to him insult her. Jon just followed her down the hall, but when she went into her room he did not follow. He stood outside and leaned against her door. His heart beating in his chest surely as he hoped hers was beat beneath her breast.

"I am not leaving from this spot until it is time for me to part," Jon spoke to the door. He knew the walls had ears but at this time he did not care, "I need to know your safe. That's why I need you here. I love you too much to take you with me…"

"That is ridiculous," Sansa said from through her door, also leaning against the door.

"Yes, it is, it all is, but I can't help the way I feel about you. It's like an amazing curse, it's over whelming, and suffocating," he gently touched the door, he could feel her so close to him. He couldn't stand it so he knocked again before opening the door and letting himself inside. Sansa took a step back, accidentally backing herself into a wall, "I love you Sansa Stark."

"Jon," she said trying to turn away, but he grabbed her hand pushing himself up to her, placing her hand over his heart.

"Sansa, I cannot promise I will come back. War is a gamble. But I can promise you that I will never stop loving you, I will never stop thinking of you, and you'll be with me in my heart," he said gently tracing her face with his finger. She stood frozen in her place, how could she beg him not to go or take her when she knew that he was only doing what he had to. His honor was something she loved about him, the way he would sacrifice himself for others... for her. She knew to ask him to stay was asking him to kill himself, to rid of a part of him she loved.

"I can't be parted from you," she cried softly, her face now laid in the large furs of his coat. He wrapped his arms around her, "when you return you'll have to take a wife…"

"Sansa," he tried to speak softly and soothingly.

"Jon, please, if we were to wed who knows how it would affect the alliances. Between your aunt and Peytr," she began to panic.

"Fuck them Sansa, why does anyone get to come between our happiness," he said lifting her chin up to look at her, "I'm the bloody king after all aint I?"

"Jon, don't joke," she whimpered, "you need a wife who can give you children…"

"Sansa," he found himself confused by what she was saying.

"I don't think I can bear children," she sobbed pulling her face from his hand and walking to her bed to take a seat. Confusion covered Jon's face as he walked over to her, "I never became pregnant in all the time I was married to…"

"Don't say his name," Jon growled kneeling in front of her. He couldn't stand the idea of that evil sadistic ass touching his perfect Sansa.

"It's not any less true Jon, I never became pregnant and I was not allowed moon tea. He visited so often… and the damage he did, I think it both blessed and hindered me. Everyday I thanked the Gods for not cursing me with carrying his children," she spoke softly staring at the floor, unable to look at the vision of perfection before her. Half his hair pulled back so she could see his beautiful face, "you deserve children Jon, and you have to give heirs."

"I don't care about that, I took the black and swore no children, it didn't bother me then. As long as you're in my arms every night and I wake up to you every morning until we die of old age," Jon grasped her face with his hands, the fire being the only light to lighten their faces. To him fire somehow made her more magical, the way it played with her hair and traced over her skin like a beautiful red burning flower. She was his burning flower, and he never wanted to see her light extinguished.

"I want you to have a family Jon," she whispered softly.

"I do have a family; I have more family then I thought. Arya is out there, Bran is here, I have an Aunt… and more importantly, I've found my soul's equal," he kissed her forehead. Sansa was in tears but she leaned up to kiss him, her hand gently resting on his cheek.

"You are too good Jon," she stared at him with such emotion he almost felt overwhelmed with a need for her. She couldn't help but think, ' I'd be the ruin of you and I couldn't bear it...'. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he lifted them up until they landed on the bed. They spent the rest of the night embracing each other and devouring each other over and over as if it could be the last time.

Morning rose sooner than they had hoped, crushing them with reality. They had said a few morning goodbyes before meeting the rest of the army that was meeting Danny's army. Danny sat atop a horse waiting for Jon to join her, they would meet at the camp set where her Dragons would be waiting. Sansa walked up to Jon who sat tall on his horse now joined by Ser Davos and Tormund.

"Lady Stark," Daenerys smiled down at the red-haired young woman.

"Queen Daenerys," Sansa returned the courtesy.

"Sansa," Jon said softly seeing the pain in her eyes, "I'll be back…"

"I'll pray every day you will," Sansa said reaching up to take his hand in a formal farewell gesture. When Jon took her hand he was surprised for she had left something behind. When her hand left his hand he clasped tightly around it, "come back, King of the North."

"Rule well in my leave," Jon smiled down at her, but he could not hide the heart-break in his eyes. To leave her was to leave his soul. She nodded trying to keep the tears in as she stepped back. Everyone began to ride but Jon was the last to leave as he watched her. He too followed with the large number of men riding to begin their war. He glanced back once more to see her still standing there in the snow her hands over her mouth.

"Milady," Brienne said laying a hand on her shoulder as Sansa held in her sobs hoping her hands would catch them and hide them. Sansa just shook her head unable to speak before her silent tears turned in hard sobs, her body going limp as she fell to her knees in the ice-cold snow.

'Jon,' she sobbed silently. Seeing his face in her mind, how long would it be before she would forget his face, how long would this war keep him from her?

"Sansa," Brienne said kneeling beside her, "I know you're in pain, but you can't let them see your weakness."

"Why does it cut so harsh, this hurts worst then anything Ramsay ever did to me," she tried to wipe away her tears before letting Brienne help her up.

"Every day will get easier milady, the more you dive into work," Brienne tried to comfort but that wasn't her special talent, "perhaps we can focus on hand to hand defense to distract you while he is away."

"You know, don't you," Sansa said before veering her icy blue gaze towards her protector.

"I've known since the moment we got to castle black milady," Brienne gave a small smile, her hands folding behind her back as she stood straight. Always so business like. Brienne was admirable to Sansa, she could see Arya in her, "come Lady Sansa, let's get you inside and get you some warmed chocolate."

"Thank you Brienne," Sansa said grasping her hand. She had missed her company, but then again a lot had happened while Brienne was collecting information for them.

Sansa could not sleep; her dreams turned into the same night terrors she had fought so hard to rid of. Again with Ramsay, his wicked smile as he inflicted the worst pain possible. Degrading her and using her gender against her. His twisted laugh curdled her blood, and it was like he was there with her, haunting her all over again. Sansa finally escaped her dream swinging forward, drenched in sweat. Her body shook as she looked around for Jon, but he wasn't there. Tears filled her eyes as she found herself alone. Sansa tip toed down the hall to Bran's room where she thought he was sleeping. But to her surprise he was sitting wide awake.

"Bran?" she asked as she closed the door behind her.

"Sansa, I've been expecting you," he said smiling at her. She had forgotten for a moment and found herself slightly unnerved by this, "you want to leave Winterfell?"

"Yes, Bran, I do. But someone, a Stark, needs to lead," Sansa said grasping his hand, knowing the burden this would be to her young brother, "you're the last son of Eddard Stark…"

"You don't have to convince me Sansa, you have your own part to play," Bran patted her hand.

"What do I do Bran?" she whispered, unsure of what steps to take.

"You follow your Stark instinct. You will lose your way, but you will find your way back Sansa. You must not let yourself lose sight of your goal," Bran whispered to her, "Jon will need you when the end is near, what you bring with you… will be what save's us in the war to come. Only you can convince the Broken Lion to work beside us."

"Bran," she gasped before hugging him. Her little brother was so grown up.

"I will be with you along the way, I will help when I can," he said smiling a handsome lord like smile.

"How?" Sansa seemed confused.

"Don't worry about how, just look for help in unusual places," Bran's smile faded, "you need to go now."

"I worry leaving you," she said stroking back his hair, "I just got you back…"

"I will be here when you return, I promise," he smiled. His reassurance made her feel she could finally leave.

Sansa took her leave to pack her things, she made this process minimal by only taking her bare necessities. She packed light on clothing, brought some food and water. A small flask of brandy to warm her when she needed it. She grabbed her bow and quiver, saddled her horse, and took off at full speed through the snow. The icy wind of the winter's night nipped at her bare cheeks but she ignored this as she tried to put as many miles between her and the Castle of Winterfell as possible.

Authors note: alright I should finish from here, I won't have internet for a couple days so I am going to post without proofing, so patience with the many glitches I am sure there are lol