Sorry I took so long, had trouble with the site. On top of that I'm moving house.

Sansa lay wide awake in bed, staring at the moon. A carnal moon. There was no going back, though do you really want to go back? She rolled over to stare at her husband's sleeping form. How can he sleep so soundly? –He is probably with Bran now, like she should be. She rolled onto her back, and started plaiting a lock of her hair, imagining how short tomorrow would be. The King would probably retire to bed early, perhaps after midday? It occurred to her how unforgiving it would have been if she had said 'next week.' Sansa lay still for awhile, and closed her eyes. Maybe she will drift off to sleep? She opened them again when she heard her husband get up. For a second she thought; it was morning- it was tomorrow, time's up. She hoped she had made it clear she meant tomorrow evening. It was still dark, the moon was still visible, he picked up something and wandered into the other chamber. This told her had gone to relieve himself. She heard the strong stream of water hit chamber pot and she had to stifle laughter.

The Queen recalled a very random moment in her childhood when her father, brothers and company, took her riding, they swore to her mother it was a simple ride, but they had equipped themselves for a hunt. Catelyn never believed any of her daughters should go on a hunt, despite the northman's ease with a lady's upbringing. Northern women were allowed to train and hunt. Sansa never took interest in those pursuits, but it added to her appeal. The ladies and men folk cooed over her; what a perfect pretty little girl.

While on this forbidden hunt, she had to have Lord Stark lift her like the tiny girl she was at the time, on and off her horse. It was before her growth spurt, when everybody thought she would grow up to be a petite woman. But she grew, she wasn't sure which side she inherited her height from, but she had her mother's long neck.

Sansa remembered the first time she saw a male relieve himself, they presented their back to her, and remained standing- that was odd to her, and the gent stared up at the heavens as he peed, then his hand braced himself on the tree. 'Theon lad, don't do that in front of my girl.' Her father said as the ward shuddered.

'It's alright...she didn't see anything, right my lady?'

A nine year old Jon had grimaced. 'It isn't proper for a lady to know what you are doing, a good lord should know that.'

'Quiet, bastard.' Theon said out of habit, forgetting Lord Stark was present. Jon advanced on the young lad.

'Hey!' Ned stepped between them. There was always tension between Theon and Jon.

Sansa rolled over in bed, away from her husband's side, she stilled when she heard the door open, and he came bumbling back in. Sansa listened to him place the chamber pot down, and wash his hands in a separate bowl. At least she hoped it was separate bowl. The bed bounced as he got back in, and she listened to him faff with the blankets, and settle against his pillow. His breathing was normal, fast and shallow, he stopped momentarily, giving her the impression he had died, again.

"Are you awake?" Jon said, loudly enough it would have woken her.

He must have heard her breathing. Sansa rolled over to face the side of his body, his head turned to her on his pillow. "Yes." The dark made her view limited, she could only see the contours of his face. "I can't sleep."

She could sense his hand on the move."Is it tomorrow?" He rumbled, and she knew what he was getting at.

She strained her head to the window. "It's dark, the day hasn't started yet...we have made it through most of the night...I would like to spend the last couple of hours before dawn, sleeping. " She heard him grumble, and smirked. "Jon, you were a member of the night's watch- you swore celibacy for life, surely you can wait a day."

"Even then... I only managed just over a year, before breaking that vow and lying with a woman."

Sansa blinked at him through the darkness, her hand lingered on the sheets between them. "You broke it?"

He took a breath, clearly he had slipped up. Would he be allowed to bed her now? "Disappointed?" He wriggled down and across to be level with her. "I was still faithful to the night's watch through and through." He was earnest, his hand stroking on top of hers.

"Oh Jon, I really don't need you to convince me of your loyalty." His lips tugged at that. "Besides they didn't return it." She added bitterly, and through only seeing contours she saw tension in her husband's face. "Was she...?" She returned to the issue at hand. "-Was this the woman whom you witnessed having a...you know." It was that unfamiliar word rearing its head, and Jon chuckled before becoming sombre.

"Yes." His eyes were nearly fluorescent, cutting through the night. "She was my first."

Sansa sucked in her lips. And you will be his second. "Well I knew you weren't a virgin, you seem to know too much...opposed to nothing." She was trying to bring humour to the conversation, but the sadness still remained, she sensed the fling didn't end well, or it had dire circumstances. Her next question should uncover the truth. "What is her name?"

"Her name was ...Ygritte."

The 'was' didn't necessarily mean she was...no more. Since the fling happened in the past , 'was' was the correct grammar. She studied her sweet Jon, he was brooding, he wasn't reminiscing- but she wished he was. "I'm sorry...I sense pain in your heart." And she didn't know how and why? "Did something go wrong?"

He honed some love in his eyes, and directed it at her. "Sweet wife..." He had nothing to follow it with, his features fell into a sad pensive state. "I doubt if she had survived...she would have lasted long." He eased. "She was wild and indifferent to anyone south of the wall. I had to choose between the night's watch and her, and I chose the night's watch."

A frightening silence broke between them, both sensing the other's thoughts. "You probably should have chosen her." Sansa said darkly, and Jon snorted. "...Considering, what they did, I suppose you would have married her." There was a bitter-sweetness to it, Jon read it as doubt, possibly even jealously.

"Sansa, a marriage to her would have been the death of my mission. I did love her, but she was set in her ways."

She heard him swallow. "I'm not sure if to believe you would have given up on your first love, regardless. Death was the only thing that stopped you."

"Hers or mine?" He said it like it was a joke.

Sansa mirrored his sad eyes. "How did she die?"

Jon drew up from the mattress, putting his back to the headboard, it held the majority of the moonlight, so she saw his face more clearly. "Are we actually going to continue this discussion?" He sounded as if he wanted to refrain.

"I think we should, for both our sakes." She lay onto her front, pulling her pillow under her chin, staring up him calculatingly. "I want to know the cause of the sadness in your eyes right now. You know the worst of what has happened to me, and now I must know yours."

He looked stunned, not knowing where to start. "Erm..." He shoved his pillow between his back and the headboard. "After our Uncle Benjen had gone missing beyond the wall...he was a ranger you see, his duty was within the deep north. We assembled a bunch of men, including myself to investigate what had happened, and hopefully find our Uncle, and other members of the brotherhood that were with him."

"Was this before or after you were made lord commander?"

"Before." Jon replied. "It wasn't long after I was given my valyrian steel sword by Commander Mormont..."

Ladywolf!Sansa followed little Jon benevolently over the snow covered boulders, they winded through a valley of rocks. There was a stack of boulders inclining down a hill, and Jon found a crack to squeeze through. Sansa followed easily, since she was smaller. She looked about her surroundings, they were in a cave that had water running through it.

"This is where it happened." The little boy said, standing in the middle of the cave. "I stood where you stand now, and she got...naked...here." His cheeks tinged.

"Woow oaaaaw wooaaaw." Sansa tried. I'm naked right, now. That was something she had to get used to, being a wolf required nudity at all times. Animals didn't need clothes.

"I know this isn't the actual place, but I remember it...so, of course it would be in my dreams." Their little dream world had grown bigger, there was so much to explore, and more light. The darkness was retreating. "I wonder why Ygritte never materializes?"

"Wooow waaoow oow." She crossed over to the other side. And gave a whine, in apology.

"I still love you, don't worry."

That's not what I said. "Woooaaw."

"I'm assuming that's; I love you too." He walked over to pet her, and she nipped him affectionately. It was probably best if he thought as such. "What's..."

Suddenly rocks began to fall in the water, peddles and gravel dislodged all over the place. It was like their world was tearing apart."Let's get out of here!" Jon tugged on her scruff and guided her to the crack, they both squeezed through. There was a massive gust of wind that nearly put them on their backs, they bowed against it, shielding there face from the force. When they emerged on the other side, there was not a breeze to be felt. Something rattled behind them. Jon turned and yelped in surprise. Sansa looked to see a dragon perched on the boulders, staring down at them. The weight of it had loosened the rocks in the cave. There was someone on his back, and the dragon's head moved out of the way, and a white icy looking fellow was revealed. The night King."Ruuun!" Jon announced, and the wolf ran south with Jon at her tail, in the direction of the wall. They heard the beat of its wings, as it took off. Little Jon was sure Sansa saw the menacing walker on it's back as well, hence why she had gladly obeyed.

Luckily in this world the wall was so close, it was nearly on top of them. The dragon's shadow cast over them, and they threw themselves through a hole that had opened up for them. Bran was revealed to be on the other side of a door at the hole, and he closed it immediately. Sealing them safely in the wall. Jon gasped for breath as his young cousin helped him up, Bran dusted the frost from his knees. "I see you've met the night King."

"We met in battle, how do you come to meet him?" Jon rasped, he felt Sansa at his heel.

"I met him in world similar to this, while snooping." It sounded like it was going to be a happy discussion, except- "I wish I hadn't, I have been marked by him- he can follow me everywhere. Hence why I'm a little cautious coming back to Winterfell." Bran sat unsteadily on a frosted rock. "Everything's my fault."

"Don't be daft."

"-It's my greenseeing, my ability lead to my obsession with coming over the wall- coming here has brought nothing but trouble, I sent away Rickon to the Umbers, so he'd be safe...he wasn't." He waited to be berated, and it never came. Almost as if he wanted to be told off. "I got Hodor killed, Jon, Hodor."

"Hodor's dead?" Jon gaped, he shared it with Sansa, who yawned with all the mounting stress, it ended with an adorable whine. "It couldn't possibly have been your fault." He eased, clasping a small hand on the younger lad's shoulder. "The whole realm is at war, there are bound to be casualties and fatalities."

Bran tried to take comfort from this, but it was too raw. He listened to the scratching on the door. "The dragon outside was an ice dragon, that's why it has a bluish hue, like what old nan used to tell us about, it's the white walker's weapon."

"So much for it trying to protect me, huh?" Jon winced, he must be the only Targaryen to be completely afraid of Dragons.

"It was bringing you to the night king, it was bringing us both to the night king." Bran said with conviction.

"To kill us?"

"I don't know...but imagine what's worst than death..."

The wolf howled, it startled both boys. They forgot she was there, and a wolf. She was staring at the door- there were cracks creeping along the surface. Jon's first thought was that Sansa's howl could have done that, but then he realised she was giving them a warning.

"We need to get out now, this thing's going to come down." Jon looked down into the hollow. "Does this go straight through?"

"Yes, don't you recognise it?"

Jon was vexed. "Is it...the old maintenance tunnel?" He noted Sansa had already taken off down the hollow. "Sansa, heel!" She didn't, so the two boys scarpered after her.

Sansa heard the door open, and immediately thought. He was early. The Queen saw red. "Lady Melisandre, what can I do for you?"

"It's the other way around, your grace." She shut the door behind her, a playful smile on her lips. Melisandre meandered to the Queen's seat. "I know about today."

Seven hells, why would the King tell anyone? "What's that?" Sansa said devoid of any emotion. "Do you know the weather?"

"I saw it in the King's eyes."

"The weather?" That's right, fain ignorance.

"No...well, I saw a storm." She cocked her foreign brow at that. "A storm in his eyes, a storm that saw an end; a pink sunset."

Sansa exercised her neck, growing impatient. "A Riddle or poetry?..Was it the kill face, you speak of?" She posed, innocently.

"It wasn't dissimilar to the kill face, but it wasn't long lasting." The witch was having fun milking it, watching her Queen play dumb. "It was heated and jovial."

The younger woman rapped her fingers on the desk, she pouted in a thoughtful manner. "Right...And what do you want?"

"To help."

"No." Sansa finalized, picking up her quill. "You've done plenty." She pretended to write. "You can go about your day."

Melisandre lingered. She did that a lot, she wasn't an obedient little subject. Sansa blinked and inclined, not even asking, she didn't need to, the witch knew she would be allowed to speak.

"Your grace, I have gifts for you." She dipped, lowering herself as if she were talking to a little girl. "Two gifts to be precise." Her voice edged with sweetness, and Sansa recoiled at the oncoming hand that wanted to adorn her cheek. No one will touch her, no one but her husband. "I have hid them in the room, you must find them."

"Is this a trick? I bet there is nothing new in this room." Sansa retaliated, gazing about her. "And if there is, why turn it into a game?"

"You like games."

She took an annoyed deep breath. "No I don't."

"You like to tease."

The girl shook her head. "You don't know me at all."

"Or maybe I know you too well?" She rose from her stoop, towering over the Queen. "From your days of being a captive of Lord Baelish, you learnt how to keep a man's favour... you bewitch him with your beauty, you tease him with promises."

Sansa rose abruptly, nearly butting heads with the witch. "How dare you?! I do nothing of the sort!" She was angry, but tears prickled her eyes, she was a good girl. "I don't tease, really I don't..." Oh she was about to blub- she stifled it. "I may lie, but I'm not lying about this, I just...don't find it comfortable to express myself, and I don't seduce...I've never seduced Jon." She sank back down onto the lounger, she added a bit more pained. "Tonight will be the night. I can do it, I can endure the worst case scenario-"

"-But Jon-"

"-I know, Jon isn't the worst case scenario, he does care about me, as I do him. He wouldn't intentionally hurt me..."

Melisandre prodded her. "But, there is a but..."

"But, if it ends up feeling the same...how do I go about telling my husband; that was awful...you felt like Ramsay." She gestured profusely. "I wouldn't be able to, but I would have to endure the ritual for the rest of my life. " She cast her eye to the bed. "The not knowing how disappointing it could be has kept me going." Sansa explained, to the best of her ability. "Is that...'being a tease' to you?"

The red witch managed to ensnare her face. "Now that is a truth. " She looked sated. "Now give me another truth..."

Sansa felt she had poured her heart out, she slumped against the lounger. "What more is there?"

"Despite the worries of the 'ritual' as you call it, are you attracted to your husband...enough to want to devour him?"

"How rude of you?!" Sansa snapped, while she was languorously sprawled on her seating.

Melisandre smiled knowingly. "That's right, get all defensive to hide the truth."

Sansa opened and closed her mouth, she looked shrewdly at the woman before her. "You little..." -Before stuttering to a halt. "I'm not going to argue this morning, I have no energy."

"That's all down to mood, once you're in the mood- the energy will follow." The witch was toying with her sleeves absently. "He put quite a show on for you last night."

"If you can call bathing..." She skirted around the word titillation, and the red priestess barked as if she had heard. Sansa flung her arm over her eyes, poetically. "Enough, just go." She peeked at the red woman leering at her triumphantly. "Why are you...?" Insufferable. "Fine -He's like a ruddy marble statue." She muttered devoutly through her sleeve. "Devouring is not an option...I would surely break my teeth on that valyrian muscle!" Her exclamation dissolved into animalistic groan. "Go away!" Her voice got juvenile and bratty.

The witch laughed, that had been so pitiful. She calmed quite quickly, watching the Queen fret over spilled secrets. "Look for your gift, and don't sneer at it."

That unmasked the girl's face. "Is it a lemon cake?"

The witch frowned, and looked shifty. "Damn, that would have been a better option, arr well. "

Davos stared from the sidelines. Something was different. A calm sort of different. The King was his usual demanding self, but there was a pleasantness that followed. He was ruffling all the squires' hair after sparring with them, he normally reserved this for the under 10s, but he was doing it to them all, even men that were taller than him. "Alright, take a break!" He left the training session with an open expression, which made him very approachable.

"Your grace, I see the worsening climate hasn't dampened your spirits."

Jon had his thumbs tucked into his belt, he kept running along the edge as if about to unbuckle himself, but he didn't. "I'm use to the cold, I won't be cold for long though..."

Hm. Davos was deadpan. "Right..." He didn't fill in the blanks. "Because...you have warm blood?"

The King looked distracted again, casting his eye over the courtyard. "I need meat, lot's of it." He grunted and stalked off.

The advisor was forced into trotting after him. "Breakfast not satisfactory, your grace?- There was plenty of meat on your plate."

"I need more, and some nuts." He turned into the main hall, they both tried to walk through the kitchens' door at once, and there was a slight kafuffle of shoulders bumping into other shoulders, and jarring door frames, before they went single file. He started to dither around the kitchen staff as they were working, they weren't expecting him, so there was a bit of scatiness as his presence became known. Jon was reaching for stuff off the benches and popping some into his mouth. "You there." He gained a maid's attention while chewing. "Can you have one of those lemon cakes prepared?"

"Your grace, we are waiting for a consignment of lemons, we sent out stockist to collect them, he won't be back for a couple of months, sorry your grace." She dipped to curtsy and excused herself.

The King turned to his advisor, his face no longer sated. He will see no tongue on his stomach tonight. "Fucking seven hells." He chuntered. "I knew it was going too smoothly, that's really going to slow things down."

"Perhaps some carrot cake would suffice?" Davos suggested, still trying to fathom what was going on.

"You know Sansa likes lemony things." Jon eased, walking out of the kitchens, with the older gent in hot pursuit.

"I see, is she lethargic without them?"

"You could say that." A servant bobbed as they went by, something he had grown accustomed to. "It sweetens her." He added very vaguely. But in actual fact; it sweetens him, for her, for that curious mouth of hers. "Gods."

"Is the cake an attempt at wooing?"

"Nosy beggar, aren't you?" The King chortled, wandering outside. "It's not an attempt, I think I'm past that stage, I'm overdue something, and it's coming..." He looked to the skies. "It's not even noon yet, so I'd say..." He looked frustrated, his face screwing up. "Hours, I have hours yet." Too far away.

Davos was finally piecing it together. "Am I to take it, your wife is in the mood?" The younger gent got a bit sheepish, and nodded with a shrug. "Are you sure, your grace? You've made this mistake before."

"I know." Guilt was rife in Jon's voice and body "I just have to try and not be aggressive, I can't get worked up before she does-" He dipped his voice as another servant passed by, they stalled to bob at him, and he wafted them away. "Why do they always stop?- Can't they just carry on, pretend I'm not here?"

"They can't do that."

"I should make a royal decree, that forbids the bobbing and curtsying unless at a formal or social event. It gets ridiculous after a while." Snow started to fall around them. "I'll also make a royal decree that makes days shorter."

"I don't think that'll work, my king." He knew what he was getting at.

He heard his King sigh. "Why does it have to be a damn nocturnal activity for women?" Jon was relentless.

"Carnal moon, that's why." Davos gave him a firm smile. "But don't be surprised if she changes her mind, women do that a lot. The day is still young, your grace."

"Yes...that's what frightens me, plenty of time for things to fall to shit." The younger man retorted gruffly, walking aggressively towards a queue of squires, whom were armed with shields.