Jon Targaryen
The Wall loomed above them, ferocious and beautiful, just like the girl beside him, who stood staring up at it in complete awe. "It is truly magnificent" Sansa said finally and he smiled, resting his hand on her shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze. "Yes. It is." They walked deeper into the keep, crows, wildlings and Queen's men all acknowledging Jon with a small nod and Sansa with gaping mouths and assessing eyes. Ghost walked tight on Sansa's side, large head bobbing contently as she laced her fingers into his thick fur. He smiled, only Sansa could get away with treating Ghost like that. He barked out some orders, a room for Sansa near his quarters, the fire in his hearth lit and for the rotation of shifts for the men atop the wall, everyone needed to know the Lord Commander had returned. He watched Sansa with obvious fascination, wanting to see her reaction to every single thing. He led her to a small but warm room near the smithy, "You will be safe here and I will leave Ghost with you every night and a guard on the door." Jon said, propelling her into the room. "Thank you Jon. Thank y…" Her sentence was broken by sobs but he could see the smile that stretched across her face. He gave her one final small bow and left the room.
Sansa Stark
The room was the homiest she had been in, in years. The blankets were thick fur and every night Ghost would lie down beside her, just as Lady had a long time ago. Her days were spent writing in the maester's tower or walking atop the Wall. Originally Jon had denied her this, claiming it was too dangerous. Sansa had silenced him with the reasoning that it was just as dangerous for him up there and besides which he wasn't her father or husband, Jon had scowled but let her go. Ghost was always by her side, she found herself whispering to him, telling him all her secrets and all the feelings she kept bottled up, even her dreams, which she would admit to no one else, not even Jon because they made her seem just as foolish as she was before her father's death. Tonight she walked through the training grounds; it was completely empty and perfectly still, with all the men in the hall eating supper. She felt a soft lump hit her in the back, not hard enough to hurt but enough to surprise her, she shook her head and continued to walk when another hit her in the back of the head with a soft thud. She raised her hand and it came away from her hair covered in snow, snowballs, she thought, whirling around with a wide grin on her face. Jon stood a few metres away, staring at her and another snowball was in his hand, she laughed and bent down to make some herself. Their war was long and fun and childish and Sansa was the happiest she had been in years. Finally they collapsed side by side into the thick snow, looking up at the bright stars. "Aren't you afraid what your men will think?" She asked him quietly, turning slightly to see his face. Jon looked down at her, dark curls flopping into his eyes. "I wouldn't care if they took my role of Lord Commander; anything is worth seeing you smile like that again." She looked down, startled by the intensity of his eyes and the way they shone, almost purple in the pale light, she took his hand in her own and sighed.
Jon Targaryen
She sat beside him at supper, scooping the measly portion of "soup" that had been given her. Sansa made it look for all the world like it was the richest and most delicious soup in the seven kingdoms, eating it daintily and bestowing praise upon the cook. Jon snuck sideways glances at her constantly, trying hard to concentrate on his men and their talk. She noticed and her right hand slid onto his knee, patting it softly. It was all he could do to not take her hand in his and hold it tight but he refrained and turned his attention back to the table and the issue of how they would survive the entire winter. They walked out together, her arm looped loosely in his own. The snow was falling heavily and they ran back to his quarters, laughing as they stood under the small eave. "Would you come in...? We could talk?" Jon asked lamely, not wanting to say goodnight. She nodded and pushed the door open, stepping in before him and dropping her heavy cloak onto a bench. He pulled two chairs up to the intense fire the steward had prepared. "I still can't believe we are together again." Sansa said, barely above a whisper. "I feel the same." Jon replied, leaning toward her, he pushed a loose strand of hair back off her face then snatched his hand back, what was he doing? She smiled though, letting him know she liked it. "Sansa, I… I have something I must tell you." He started, watching the shadows of the fire dance across her face and a small crease appear between her eyes as she looked at him, nervous. "I was reborn." He started, then cursed himself, what was he saying, she would think him a madman! Sansa's mouth had dropped into a perfect 'o' but she did not speak, silently telling him to continue. "Before you wrote, the men here mutinied against me. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry about me! But I need to; I can't keep this from you any longer. Melisandre, she brought me back through the flames but I didn't burn." He watched every single reaction, even the tiny shift of her foot as he told her everything, he ended with the fact that he so desperately didn't want her to have to know but his honour forced him to say; "So I am now Jon Targaryen." She stood, silent and he craned his neck to look up into those sharp blue eyes. "Goodnight… My Prince." She whispered before sweeping out the door, taking Ghost and the warmth of her presence away. Jon wiped a single tear from his cheek as he drifted into a fitful sleep in the chair.
Sansa Stark
"Jon Targaryen. JON TARGARYEN. JoN TARgaryen." She whispered to herself in the quiet chamber, no matter how she said it, it wasn't right. Then she thought of how his eyes had looked like pools of deep purple and she sighed. My last brother, my only brother left, is now my cousin. She stifled a sob and curled even tighter into Ghost's side, all her family had left, in one way or another. Breakfast was cold bread and colder broth and she could barely force it down her parched throat. Jon stared at her from across the room; he had elected to sit with a table of wildlings rather than with her and that stung Sansa's weary heart even more. He told me as a way to show I am not his responsibility, that he doesn't need me, that I should leave, she thought as she watched him smile at something the large, bearded man to his right had said. I am not his sister, I am not his to protect and that's why he told me and why he leaves me alone now. She tried to ignore how hard these thoughts made her heart ache and how looking at him made her shiver, no food would be eaten. She pushed herself up and made for the door, Ghost trailing behind her, looking as dejected as she felt. His hand gripped her firmly through the many layers she wore. "Sansa, I can't bear this. Look at me!" His voice sounded angry and she whirled around ready to scream at him. What greeted her was a mirror, the sadness she knew was in her eyes lay deeply in his and worry was etched on his brow. "What do you mean you can't bear it!?" She hissed at him. "First you tell me that you are not even my brother! Then you leave me alone, like a pariah. Do you want me to leave Jon, is that why you told me; because I'm not your sister you don't want me! Is that it?" She shrieked, noticing just now that her fists had been hammering into his chest and hot tears slid down her hollow cheeks. "No! Gods, Sansa no… I love you and I will always want you. You hear me? I will always want you!" His voice wrapped around her and his arms followed, pulling her tight against him and drying her tears inadvertently with the rough leather. "I will never leave you." He whispered into the crown of her head, then kissing it ever so gently.
Jon Targaryen
It had physically hurt him to see how upset she had been, how she had honestly thought he wouldn't want her. "I do know nothing." He muttered, as he waded through papers sent from across the realm. He heard the soft padding of Ghost's paws before he heard Sansa, she was head to toe grey and her eyes shone like the wall on a summer day. "Can I help you milady?" He asked with a smirk. "I think you can my prince, I am here on most important business." She replied quickly, there was no catching her out he thought as he chuckled. "In all honesty I did want to speak with you." She stated, falling gently into the chair opposite him. "What about?" He asked unperturbed because of the smile on her face. "About us." She answered in a mocking, girlish tone. "U…s" Jon croaked out, looking at her as his heart thundered and his hands began to sweat. "Yes, us." Sansa replied, sitting straight in her seat now and leaning in towards him, her face was serious but her eyes were happy. "I could be wrong of course, about how you feel." She started, and Jon felt a shift, somewhere deep in his chest. "But I think you care deeply for me and I know I do for you." She stopped, looking the slightest bit uncertain so he nodded, wanting her to continue. "And I never want to be without you Jon, not ever again. You know, of my plans to reclaim the North and when I do Winterfell will be my home again… And I should very much like… If it was yours too?" The last sounded like a question so Jon nodded, he stood and walked around the desk, still nodding, taking her hands and raising her up so she stood before him. He was still nodding as his dry, chapped lips met her soft, warm ones.
Sansa Stark
The kiss made her head spin. Jon was kissing her, Jon's tongue was running over hers and Jon's hands were tight around her waist. She pulled back with a start and looked up at this man, this amazing man and she smiled. He smiled back before leaning down again and placing one final kiss on her cheek. He looked as flushed and happy as she felt and Sansa leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder and never wanting to let go. A knock at the door went through her like an electric shock and Sansa ripped herself away, smoothing her cloak and hair and sitting back down as Jon strode to the door, an annoyed look on his face. "My lord, wildlings spotted beyond the wall." A young crow stammered before racing for the armoury, Jon grabbed his long blade from beside the door and turned back to her, her heart burst in her chest as he pressed a kiss to her cold hand. "Be safe." She called but he was already away. Her night was spent tossing and turning, waiting for someone to tell her Jon was dead, or Jon himself to step through her door. She had kissed Jon! The thought seemed crazy now. Not only that she had kissed him, of all people, but that she had kissed anyone at all! She swore after Littlefinger no one would touch her again, no one would make her feel that way but when Jon kissed her all she felt was love and the feeling of coming home. Ghost licked her hands as the night went on and on, she finally drifted off to sleep, dreaming that she was a raven, flying above the wall, looking down on Jon and knowing he was alright.
Jon Targaryen
The Wildlings had come for sanctuary, all beyond the wall had heard of what the Crows were doing and they wanted in. It was too dangerous out there now, White Walkers were everywhere and every dead Wilding just meant another damned White Walker to deal with. The underground tunnels were opened and the whole night and most of the morning was spent sorting and processing the hundreds of free folk pouring into Westeros. Jon raked his hand wearily across his face, sleep would not be had for some time and he was already dead on his feet, same as all the other men around him. His mind kept skipping back to Sansa and that kiss, she could use her tongue, he thought, with a small grin and then remembered who would have taught her it and gripped the handle of his sword till his knuckles hurt. He hated Littlefinger, for taking Sansa's purity and her sense of self and hated the thought of his wicked lips kissing Sansa's pale flesh but he couldn't undo what had happened, only help her move on and show her he would never make her feel that way, dirty and used. He loved her, he thought as his heart gave a deep thud, not in the way a sibling loves a sibling or even the way a cousin loves a cousin but in the way that if he had to live without her ever again he was sure he would quickly die. Jon shifted, agitated, waiting to see her again.
Lot of Jon/Sansa fluff in that one! Sorry But it had to be done. Had to set up how I wanted their relationship to be and all that stuff. Next chapter will have a lot more action! Troops are rallied and dragons come to Westeros (possibly).