Major fluff and angst.

Jon

Jon decided it was time to get some rest. He closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep, his dreams filled with Sansa's red hair all over his pillows, wearing an almost see-through white shift. Jon was laying next to her, which seemed to comfort him, and at first she also seemed calm. She rolled over and draped her arm over his huge body, Jon wished he could smile, however that thought was short-lived; when she suddenly became restless. Jon couldn't stop watching her, terrified something was wrong. Sansa began to violently toss and turn, murmuring something Jon couldn't understand. Then suddenly she screamed and sat up, her eyes wide open with terror. Moments later, Lady Brienne opened the door, sword in hand, wearing only a tunic.

"What is it my Lady?" Brienne asked, looking over towards Jon. "Has someone hurt you?"

Sansa shook her head. "It was a dream. A dream about my death." she sobbed, as she wrapped her arms around him. Jon nudged her and rested his huge head against her cheek. "I'll be alright Brienne. It's just that Jon isn't here. I only feel safe when he is."

Brienne lowered her sword. "Is that why you are sleeping in the same room?" she asked, Sansa nodded.

"It is the only thing that keeps the bad dreams away. But Ghost is with me." she reassured her sworn sword. "I'll be alright now, you can go back to bed." she added.

Brienne nodded. "If that is what you wish my Lady. He'll be back tomorrow." she added before leaving.

Sansa looked at Jon carefully. "Jon, is that you?" she asked, and he rubbed his head against hers, the only way he knew how to say yes. As if she understood she wasn't alone, Sansa lay back down and quickly went back to sleep.

Jon woke with a start. He was never leaving Sansa to sleep alone again.

They left the wildling encampment before dawn, allowing them to return to Castle Black just after noon. All the way back, Jon had been upset about Sansa; Tormund had been of little use, all he did was grumble about the hangover from the previous night's drinking. Jon was also hungover, but he didn't care, he just needed to get back to Sansa, he needed to know she was alright. As soon as they rode through the gates of Castle Black, Jon dismounted his horse.

Noticing Edd approach, he called out "Where's Sansa?"

"She's in your chambers." Edd replied. "But I wouldn't..." he started, but Jon was already gone, ignoring his friend.

Outside his chambers, Ghost was keeping watch, much to Jon's relief. He scratched the direwolf on the head and burst into the room, expecting her to be in the solar at this time, either sewing or crafting letters. "Sansa?" he called out, but there was no reply. He made his way into the bedchamber and stopped. In front of the fire, Sansa was sat in the bath, her hair wet and her back to him.

"Jon!" she shrieked. "You're back early. Turn around."

Jon immediately did as he was told. "I saw you afraid. So we rode back early." he told her, noticing the scent of lavender hitting his nostrils, the scent she used to wear as a child.

"It was a bad dream. Go wait in the solar, I'm nearly done. The water hasn't gone cold yet, you can use it yourself." she commanded as Jon left her to get out of the bath. A few minutes later, she entered the solar wearing a red robe, which looked like one of Melisandre's. Her copper hair was still wet, turning it into a deep red colour, the water was dripping down her, he noticed a droplet running down her chest, he suddenly had a desire to lick it from her chest as the memory of her breasts came back to haunt him. Jon swallowed, his breeches were becoming too tight.

"I'll go have a bath while the water is still warm enough." Jon said, leaving her while he did as she told him.

Jon didn't spend much time in the bath, it wasn't warm enough to soak away the aches from riding, but it served to clean the grime from him and wash his hair. Although it was tempting to take himself to hand, Sansa was in the next room, but this time awake. Instead he began to think about the number of men required for the battle, which served to temper his desire. Once he was clean, he got out and dressed in just breeches and a black tunic, before joining Sansa in the solar, where she was sewing.

"Sewing helps me think." she explained as Jon sat down beside her, trying to ignore how the gown revealed too much cleavage.

"You said dreamt of your death." Jon told her, Sansa nodded. "What of it? You said you were poisoned. By who's hand?" he asked.

"My own." Sansa said sadly. "Life had become too...lonely. Everyone I loved had died or left, I couldn't carry on the Stark line. There was nothing left for me. I was given a chance to change things, to leave an heir, so I took it." her face was sad.

"So why was it a nightmare?" Jon couldn't understand.

"My death was painful, and I began to feel it. I was choking, I couldn't breathe...it reminded me of him. He used to..." she stopped, unable to continue. Jon nodded, understanding her distress. "I knew it was you...Ghost, I mean." she whispered. "I didn't dream after I knew you were next to me."

"Aye it was me." Jon admitted. "I won't leave you alone at night again. I promise."

Sansa frowned. "I'm not sure people will accept this arrangement once we leave here. Especially when they find out you're not my brother. It would appear very strange for a man and woman to be sharing a bed." she sighed. "Well not in an innocent manner, nightmares wouldn't suffice as an excuse. I suppose I'll have to get used to sharing a bed with a direwolf." she smirked.

"Lucky Ghost." Jon said before he could stop himself.

Sansa blushed but continued to speak as if she hadn't heard him. "I think I came back to ensure the continuation of the Stark name. The witch did warn me about interfering too much, but I can't let people I care about die. I've spoken with Brienne, she says she'll go south to try and save Margaery and Loras." Jon frowned, unsure as to where Sansa was going. "She already owes me a debt. She was the one who killed Joffrey, and I know it. I don't want to threaten her because she's far too dangerous. If I rescue her grandchildren, she won't form an alliance with Daenerys. The Reach can supply us with food and some men. The fewer allies Daenerys has in Westeros, the better. I would prefer to see King Tommen on the throne than her. At least he will listen to his advisors. I've already written to Lady Olenna, telling her I have news of a plot to destroy house Tyrell. Obviously I couldn't tell her in a ravens, so I told her that I will send one of my advisors who she knows, with the details. Brienne will join us for Bear Island, and then travel south."

"You've got everything planned." Jon said proudly.

"If we can keep the whitewalkers north of the wall, the long night will not go away until he is dead. Then we will all starve." she warned.

This scenario hadn't occurred to Jon. He had concentrated on killing the Night King, and Sansa was now trying to find a way to keep him in the north, while at the same time trying to feed all of Westeros. "You really are a Queen." he smiled. "How many steps ahead are you?"

"We don't know how long winter will last. Every house in the north needs glass gardens. I have already sent ravens to a dealer I know of from my dreams in Braavos to send us a price for the materials. Of course, the glass gardens will only be of use whilst there is sunlight. Once the long night comes, we won't be able to grow much in those."

"Sansa." Jon took his hand in hers. "Stop thinking. You need to rest. I saw you last night, you can't have slept very much."

"I'll be fine." Sansa put her sewing down and stood up. She walked over to the vanity table, brushed her hair and braided it in the northern style, he watched her as his eyes began to droop; a result of the hangover, the long ride, a lack of sleep and the bath.

"Jon!" Sansa said softly. Jon opened his eyes, she was stood opposite him, perched up against the chair, still wearing the red dress, which in his mind was far too revealing.

"Sansa."

"We ride south to Bear Island tomorrow. It is time to go home." she said.

Jon looked around. "Castle Black has been my home for years. It'll seem strange to leave it. I never expected to be going to war."

"There's only one war. Life against death. I was allowed to come back, the reason was to create life. I couldn't do that before, because there was only one man I trusted, and he was gone." Sansa edged in closer to Jon and opened up her robes, her perfect body naked underneath. She took hold of Jon's hand, slowly leading it up her body, eventually to cup her breast.

"Who was he?" Jon's voice was hoarse.

"You." Sansa straddled her legs across his lap and began to caress his face.

"I can't." Jon protested.

"Why?" Sansa leaned in as if she were about to kiss him.

"I'm a bastard." he whispered.

"We both know that's not true." Sansa brushed her lips against his.

"You're my sister." he argued.

"Cousin." Sansa began to unfasten his breeches, but Jon grasped her wrists to stop her, something wasn't right, Sansa would never act this way. Suddenly her face morphed into that of the Lady Melisandre, Jon jumped back startled.

"Jon. Jon. JON!" came Sansa's voice. Jon looked up, Sansa was still at the vanity unit, but she was now turned to face him, looking worried. "You fell asleep, and started thrashing about." she stood up, wearing the red robes. "Are you alright?" she bent down next to him as he drew away from her. "What's wrong?" she asked, her face a mixture of hurt and confusion.

Jon was panting, not sure what was true and what wasn't. After a few deep breaths, he realised he was awake. "I dreamed you were her." he said.

"Who?" Sansa frowned.

"The red woman." Jon looked at her. "One minute we were talking, the next...you turned into her." he shuddered.

Sansa laughed. "Is it because I'm wearing this?" she tugged at the red dress.

"Aye, I think so." Jon frowned.

"I didn't have much of a choice, there aren't many clothes here at Castle Black which would be suitable. Don't worry, when we leave for Bear Island tomorrow, I won't be wearing this. But it will do for tonight." she added.

"Why, what's happening tonight?" he asked.

"I was telling you, but you fell asleep. We're riding south to Bear island tomorrow. It's time to go home. We need to go over the plans with Tormund, Melisandre, Edd and Brienne. Then it is our last night in a comfortable bed until we retake Winterfell."

The meeting went well. Sansa had already arranged for the party to set off the next day. She'd organised the supplies, tents, furs and all other practical necessities to be loaded, all while he'd been meeting with the Freefolk. Not only that, she'd met with Littlefinger and had all but secured the help of the Vale by way of guilt. Edd was now being given the contact list of those in Braavos who might be able to get a good deal on the necessary items for glass gardens at the wall. Sansa had decided they would be fighting the army of the dead at the wall instead of Winterfell, however that was going to be the gathering point for all of those who would help fight the Night King. By the time they were back in his chambers, they were both exhausted and ready to turn in. However, neither of them seemed keen on going to bed, this was their last night of relative comfort for at least two moons, according to Sansa. Which was why they were sat beside the fire drinking wine.

"I bought two barrels from Moles Town." she admitted. "We might need it while on the move. Although this is some of the wine left from Stannis." she added, although Jon couldn't remember Stannis leaving them any wine.

"It's not bad." Jon frowned. "Not exactly Arbor Gold, but it's as good as we'll get this far north." he laughed, feeling happy and sad at the same time. "When I first got here, I thought I'd arrived at one of the seven hells. I couldn't understand why father would allow me to join. But I stuck by it. Nearly ran away when I heard about father." calling Ned 'father' had begun to get easier and he felt it was better to respect him that way as Ned Stark had indeed been a father to Jon. "My brothers brought me back, otherwise I'd have ended up with my head on a spike. I grew up here, I became a man here...I died here." his voice became a whisper as a bout of melancholy took him.

"You were reborn here." Sansa took his hand, her face looked bright and slightly flushed from the wine. She was still wearing the red dress, which was cut too low for Jon's liking, it was taking every effort he had to keep his eyes away from her cleavage.

"I've decided you're right." he suddenly said.

"I'm glad to hear it, but what about?" she laughed.

"I'll tell the Lords when we reach Winterfell and call the conclave. When they try to crown me King in the North, I'll tell them who I am. That way it will spread amongst the seven Kingdoms. It will give you time to work out how Lord Baelish might take the news." Jon said.

"I think he already suspects." Sansa told him. "He told me about the tourney of Harrenhal, he seemed quite interested in Lyanna. He keeps mocking you about being only my half-brother."

"As far as he is concerned I am." Jon shrugged.

"I'm not so sure. I might be wrong, but he at least suspects something. He knows you were born in Dorne." she said.

"Does he know we know?" Jon asked. "Have you told anyone?" Sansa shook her head. "I've told Tormund, he won't say anything."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he has spies here. Then word will reach him we've shared a bed, he won't be happy." she looked down into her wine.

"He wants to marry you and bed you." Jon stated the obvious. "In which order?"

"Does it matter?" Sansa raised an eyebrow. "He wants to use me, like most men. I'm the key to the north. Right now, I'm just a pawn in the Game of Thrones."

"I won't let him marry you." Jon promised. "I will protect you." he took her hand.

"How?" Sansa asked. "The moment everyone knows you are Aegon Targaryen, the Lords will try and banish you. Even if they name me Queen in the North, it will be awkward. Littlefinger will whisper poisonous words into their ears. It isn't you protecting me, it is about me protecting you."

"Any ideas?" Jon asked.

"I've got one, but I don't think you're going to like it." she frowned.

"Try me."

"As soon as we take back Winterfell, I kill Ramsey, we bury Rickon, then we go to the Godswood and..." she stopped, Jon's heart began to race as he realised where this was heading.

"We marry." he finished. Sansa worried her bottom lip as she looked at him.

"I know it's not ideal, and we can annul the marriage through non-consummation..." she started.

Jon smiled. "The Lords wouldn't be able to send me away. They try to crown me King in the North, I decline telling them who I really am. They declare you Queen in the North, they rant over me, asking you to banish me and then we tell them we're married." he frowned. "They might think we've duped them. But it needs to be something like that. If we do have to marry, I'm sure we can eventually consummate the marriage. You do need an heir."

Sansa looked at him in surprise. "You'd wait for me?"

"Of course." Jon nodded. "I wasn't lying when I said no man would touch you, not unless you wanted it. You know there are no northern Lords left who you trust after the battle. Although that might change if the war for the dead moves to the wall."

Sansa yawned and stood up. "I'm ready for bed." she smiled, climbing under the furs, still in the red dress. Jon followed, wearing his black tunic and breeches. Once underneath, he blew out the candle, so the only light in the room was the orange from the fire.

"When did you get the dress?" Jon asked.

"This morning." Sansa told him. "She's helped me with a few things and offered to let me borrow this dress while I finish the one I'm making." she snuggled up into Jon's chest.

"I don't think this is a suitable dress to wear while we share a bed."

"Why?" Sansa looked like she was drunk.

"Sansa, are you alright?" Jon asked and she rubbed her head against his chest, he was worried, had Melisandre done something to make her act this way.

"I'm feeling fine." she opened her arms out and one of her breasts fell from the dress. "Oops." she giggled.

"Sansa, you need to get out of that dress." Jon knew Melisandre had done something. She'd tried to seduce him in a similar dress, but he'd managed restraint. He sniffed the material, suddenly the scent he remembered came back to him. He felt himself harden, but it didn't completely cloud his judgement. Swallowing, he tried to tuck Sansa's breast back into the dress, but she was wriggling about.

"I feel nice." she smirked.

Jon tried to think clearly, which was as hard as he was right now. He needed to get her out of that dress, clearly Melisandre had left a scent on it, unless it was the wine they had been drinking.

"Who gave you the wine?" Jon asked.

"Melisandre. She's nice." Sansa smiled. "I don't remember her being this nice before, I barely spoke to her."

Jon got out of the bed and away from the scent. The sexual fog in his mind began to ease, even if the tightness of his breeches didn't. He opened up one of the drawers in his tallboy and pulled out one of his long tunics. He held it up, deciding it would just about cover Sansa's modesty. He just hoped she was wearing smallclothes. Jon threw the tunic on the bed and held out his arms to Sansa. "Come here." he smiled.

Sansa got up and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Have I ever told you how handsome you are?" she asked. "Although I do prefer you with your hair loose, I love your curls." she pulled the leather tie from his hair, freeing it from the tightness of his bun.

Jon hated himself for what he was about to do, but it was necessary and Sansa would appreciate his effort. Even more, Jon hated the fact that he was going to have to pretend he did this for Sansa's sake, because in all honesty, he wanted her in every way possible. So in some ways, he was going to enjoy this moment, even if it broke his own heart. "Turn around." he whispered into her ear. "I want to kiss your neck."

Sansa obeyed, as Jon manoeuvred himself into position, where he could quickly grab the tunic. To keep Sansa occupied, Jon was true to his word and began to kiss her neck, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush into his body.

"Kiss me." Sansa said, turning to face him. Unable to resist, Jon did as he was told, the poisonous scent acting as it should on him, yet he still had enough sense to do what was needed. He unfastened the dress, just as he remembered Melisandre doing all those moons ago. Jon's hand grazed Sansa's flesh, they both moaned as she rubbed her behind up against him.

"I want you." he whispered truthfully, running his fingers up the collar of the dress and quickly pulling it over her shoulders, where it dropped to the floor. Keeping his eyes focused away from Sansa's body, he reluctantly let go of her; pulled the tunic from his bed and before Sansa knew what was happening, he'd pushed it over her head and kicked the red dress away. For a moment Sansa looked furious, then she seemed dazed and confused.

"Jon, what happened?" she asked, before noticing her bare legs and squealing.

"Get into bed." Jon sighed, joining her under the furs. "Why did she give you that dress?" he asked.

"She told me it would help me get over what he did to me. She heard my screams while you were away. She told me then I would be able to find a husband and I can have heirs." Sansa began to sob. "I'm sorry Jon. I can't believe..."

"Don't worry." Jon took her in his arms. "You did nothing wrong. There is a type of seduction potion on there. She probably used it for Stannis. She tried it on me once before."

Sansa looked up as him in shock. "She did?"

"I won't go into too many details, but I think she was wearing that very dress, until she undid it."

"Did it work?" Sansa was wide eyed.

"I'm not that easy to seduce, despite what you think, and considering how I seemed to succumb to her affections." Jon had learned using the Dragon Queen's name tended to upset Sansa. "Although the dress was working on me. Can you forgive me for being forward and kissing you?" he felt himself blush in the darkness.

"I forgive you." Sansa replied. "I must confess, I rather enjoyed it."

"You did?" Jon's heart began to race.

"Mayhaps we should revisit it once we are married."

"Do you mean it? Marriage?" Jon asked.

"I can protect you if we marry. So yes. But only if you want to."

Jon smiled internally. "It would make a good solution." he agreed. "But if we do revisit the kiss, I can't promise an annulment."

"Goodnight Jon." Sansa yawned.

"Goodnight." Jon whispered, closing his eyes. In contrast to the night before, he felt this must be the happiest day of his life.