Authors note: I am not a professional writer; I do not get paid to be grammatically correct or paid at all. I write for the pure pleasure. I write what I would like to see, and try to indulge others similar desires. I will not be publishing this, nor will I be profiting off of it which is why I am not going to bust my tush to make sure it's perfect. If this leaves people unhappy, I am sorry, there are plenty of other awesome stories with great grammar and perfect spelling. Also please remember this is based off the show, not the book, so descriptions will be what the actors in the show look like and not the descriptions given in the book. I love reviews, I just ask that it is nicely constructive but not repetitive. Thank you to all the friendly engaging reviews. I will eventually go back through the story and clean up what I catch, but not right now. Anywho, without further ado…

Chapter 15: Diamonds in the sky

Sansa walked gracefully through the court yards of Kings Landing, replaying moments of fear and sadness in her mind. This place had been a very large constricting prison for her. She also remembered the first moments of arriving, the awe she felt at seeing such beautiful architecture. Kings Landing was beautiful which made sense as it was the capital, but she still felt a small sense of sadness as she thought back to her father.

How differently things could have gone, was all she could think about. Now she was to wed in the capitol after all, to the kind of man Ned Stark would approve of, the kind he wanted for her… but he wouldn't be there to give her away. Her mother had only been there a short while, but she too would not be there to see her daughter to the hand of the bastard her mother loathed.

A part of her now felt shame for her mother, of course Jon Snow wasn't the same man to her he once was. He wasn't the quiet bastard hiding in the shadow of Ned Starks dishonor. Now he was King of the North, the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen the last prince. She kept wondering what her mother would not think of Jon, would she approve? Would she still loathe him for the rifts he caused between Ned and herself? The dishonor she felt shrouded her family and its precious name.

Would she be happy that in all of Sansa's suffering, she finally found a happiness? Sansa closed her eyes letting the breeze play with her hair and caress her face. She couldn't deny being pregnant was truly exhausting, but then all the wedding preparations seemed to drain any energy she had left. Her hands gently cradled the bulge in her belly, the nausea had come back leaving her sick quite often.

Sansa's fingers trembled against her stomach as she worried about the natural dangers of giving birth. So many women lost their lives to bearing children. Would she be strong enough to see her children into this world? How about to see them grow up? Would she get to hold them? Jon's mother lasted only long enough to see him into the world, but not to be with him. Would she too have to leave her children? She wanted to see their wrinkled little faces, to kiss their soft cheeks, and to sing them sweet songs her mom and old nan would sing to her when she was a young babe.

The trees swayed around her, talking to her, remind her she wasn't alone. The smell of the dying flowers enveloped her as Kings Landing to prepared for winter's cold breath to be upon it. The sun still shown, and the ground still clear of snow or ice. Sansa closed her eyes once more her eyes spread out as the sun kissed her nose and brushed her cheek. Peace took hold of her for a moment… something rare in a time like that. She could feel the little babes moving within her, the room was small and there was two of them trying to fight for space.

"What does it feel like?" A voice startled her from her moment of meditation and thought. Sansa looked over smiling at Arya. Her sister seemed sad also, Sansa could only imagine the own personal hell Arya faced. She was alone like Sansa, but had been turned into a nobody and passed around from one situation to the next. She was glad Arya was so strong, and brave.

"What does what feel like?" Sansa asked observing Arya's face, trying to remember her as the little long brown haired girl who would sword fight with the boys, who would come home with a dirty face and dress making mother awfully angry. Sansa remembered finding it annoying, and now she found herself missing it.

"Carrying babies inside of you?" Arya looked older, much, much older, but she was still a young lass.

"It's like a tickle, like a tickle that makes you throw up and makes your chest burn," Sansa smiled as she looked down and rubbed her stomach, "I think the best part is just knowing they are in there. Two perfect little human beings as they get their features… I wonder whether they will have Jon's dark eyes or his dark curls."

"I can see how you would love him," Arya smiled walking beside her sister.

"You do, do you?"

"Yeah, Jon's always been awesome," Arya watched Sansa's smile fade.

"I wish I had seen it sooner," Sansa's eyes went dark as she wondered off to the dark corners of her mind, the places that held her prisoner. The place she hid in when Ramsay would visit her at night, when she would have to sit with her father and brother's murder, the place she would slip into when she had to become numb and ice cold. It was a place she hated going to, it brought back all her worst fears and nightmares… a place that Jon had worked so hard to save her from for many months after the battle with Ramsay. It was then she knew she loved him, he wasn't her brother to her… he was her hero. Peytr had been good at exploiting and using the darkness within her to try and lure her to his side, but Jon's white light melted it all away.

"I think he saw you sooner," Arya said with a smile, "I use to see him watching you. Especially when Joffrey became in the picture. I think some small part of him had taken notice."

"No," Sansa smiled and shook her head, "I don't think Jon could…"

"If he hadn't… if he had disliked you, why would he have done all he had? Rob wouldn't have. I think something lingered deep down, something he was afraid of," Arya smiled hoping it comforted Sansa, "he was afraid of you because he saw something in you… perhaps he saw the real you before you became her?"

"When did you become so wise?" Sansa laughed softly.

"I've always been, you were just too blind to see it," Arya joked.

"And there she is…" Sansa joked back.

"Nearly half of your army died on the journey my queen," Tyrion said sadly. Many things took the lives of the men they brought with them.

"How many houses rally to the King of the north?" Danny asked Jon, her face blank like a mask. She had grown good at hiding her feelings.

"I have about 8 of the greatest houses so far milady, I haven't heard word from Winterfell yet on the other riders to the farthest Northern houses on their answer to my call. They all rally behind me as King of the, North, but I do not know if I have the support of their men," Jon's eyes were dark as he thought about the Night King, "Winter has come, and with it the Dead rise. We have little precious time. The lady Melisandre has already foreseen when the white walkers will break down the barrier to the wall."

"What about you? Lord Baelish is it? Or is it Little Finger?" Danny jested in the most serious face she could. Tyrion smirked as he lifted his cup to his lip. Little Finger knew no matter how badly he wanted the throne, that he was outnumbered now by Targaryen's… his claim to the crown was no longer in eye sight.

"Milady," Peytr gave her a half smirk, the kind that said he was intrigued but not amused, "you may call me Peytr or Lord Baelish, as you please."

"Lord Baelish it is then, though Little Finger sounds rather amusing…" Danny smiled with her lips but her eyes remained on point, "do we have the support of the knights of the Vale? I will not pretend it is not you who is in control of them as you are in control of the boy. In control of quite a bit from what I have heard."

"You have our allegiance, the Vale's army is your army my queen," Lord Baelish placed his hand over his heart and dipped his head dramatically. He was outmaneuvered so now he had to play the cards he had at hand.

"We need as many men as we can get," Jon said fiercely as he looked around the table, "this is our last stretch. Send ravens to every last Lord or Lady to squeeze every last man or young man available. Send word to the cities, camps, houses, villages and request able bodied men, even women if they have any skill between fighting or medicine."

"I agree," Danny nodded, "let us send word of this now. Scribes please write out as many letters as you can and send them with a fierce haste. Now, we have several other matters to attend to. Your wedding to the lovely Stark gal, and the execution of Cersei Lannister."

"Aye. Jon was still in war mode, but he knew they had to get this out of the way as well. He could see Little Finger seething in the back of his seat at the loss of Sansa to Jon, "Sansa and I are to wed soon. She is already preparing the wedding. It will be fast as our fate is uncertain. As for Cersei, my wife to be requested she live long enough to see everyone happiness despite her treachery."

"I suppose that is fair," Danny looked to Tyrion who nodded slowly and quietly, "well then let us have a wedding to mark the beginning of the battle for the living."

Jon left the meeting room to look for Sansa, he watched as decorations were put up to celebrate the marriage of the wolf princess and the dragon prince. It would be the story of all times, a tale of true love. He couldn't wait to make her his, for his children to not be born bastards. All he wanted at that moment was to hold Sansa, to love her.