authorsnote: here we go

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songrecs: the night we met - lord huron & phoebe bridgers (I just discovered this version and I didn't think the original could be improved but my goodness it is!)

The journey to Riverrun was long, nervy, and emotional as they docked in Maidenpool before making the rest of their way on foot.

The Riverlands had suffered heavily in the war, and as the Freys held the Castle of Riverrun they'd done little to rebuild. Sadness washed over Sansa as she looked over her Mothers homeland, at what had become of them.

She'd only ever visited Riverrun and the Riverlands once as a girl. But she remembered it being green, with long running rivers, rich farmland, fishermen at every junction, taverns and inns serving fried catch of the day with whatever had been hauled in from harvest. She remembered farmers bringing in bushels of wheat, remembered the roads easy to ride along, horses grazing in pastures, she remembered it was pretty.

Now it looked the opposite.

The fields were suffering, weak crop from lack of service, the rivers flowed freely but the fishermen were gone, and where taverns once sat cheerful and full, now burned ruins took their places. Horses and sheep were no longer grazing in the fields, the women Sansa could remember paddling in the rivers were gone, so were all the people. It was desolate.

"This is awful" Sansa said with a frown, but she managed a sad smile as Jon took and squeezed her hand, leaning on him, as she often did.

"It needs to be fixed before winter comes" Jon said, ever practical but she appreciated that in him, "The Queen will have to focus on that"

"Who do you think she'll give Riverrun too?" Sansa asked, as they made their way into the docks, they were greeted by sailors and dock workers who smiled at them, and had an extra one for Sansa, a Tully daughter, a daughter of the Riverlands.

She wondered how they'd react to a Targaryen. Hopefully not well.

"Well by rights it should go to your Uncle Edmure" Jon said with a shrug, and a nod to a sailor who bowed at him, "Is he still alive?"

"I'm not sure, I know he was being kept at Casterly Rock as a prisoner, though there were rumours he'd been moved to Riverrun to be held captive there" She signed, "If so he should inherit, otherwise I suppose the Queen will pick who she thinks is best, or perhaps install one of her own people"

"That would be foolish" Jon said, this time frowning, "The people will reject an outsider"

An outsider, like the Queen herself.

She frowned at herself then as dockworkers greeted Jon (and she noted, they referred to him as 'Your Grace' and bowed, interesting), was she really rooting for the people to reject Daenerys Targaryen when that might mean war? Perhaps she was.

Not just from a petty place, that she hardly deserved the Throne, she hadn't grown up in Westeros, she didn't know the country, she didn't know the people or the land or the house, and Sansa didn't think being the daughter of a deposed house gave her a right to the Throne, and even if it did then the seat should really be Jon's, as he was both a Targaryen; the rightful Heir and he knew Westeros.

Now … there was a thought.

One that would slowly but surely grow over time, even as she her inner musings were interrupted, and she greeted those who'd met them.

There was a thought indeed.

It took them a while longer to make it to Riverrun, the country was war torn but with their own compliment of soldiers and Jon on horseback leading them, they had no trouble, but the road was still weary, emotionally at least.

Sansa knew Jon had already sent a raven to Winterfell, to order a larger contingent of men to match down the Neck to Riverrun, they'd meet there and with the Queens forces take back the Castle and do their part to hand it over, and to make their play for one of her dragons

Well Jon's play.

Sansa knew it was the right one, or at least the only one they had.

But she was still absolutely terrified it wouldn't work.

Trying to steal a dragon out from under the Queens nose, could there be a madder plan? But Sansa, knew as Jon did, they didn't have much of a choice. The Queen would turn her attention on the North eventually and they needed one of her dragons to ensure she stayed her hand, to ensure, despite whatever she said, she wouldn't one day turn on them.

And of course, there was a bigger picture than that, they needed a dragon to save all of Westeros, to stop the far more important enemy in the North, but Sansa knew they had to be focused on the enemy in the South as well. She also knew Jon wouldn't, his eyes remained Beyond the Wall, so she would have to.

Jon had whispered to her on the ship, the two of them hiding inside shared quarters, whispered that dragons bonded to a rider, and if he could bond with Rhaegal, he would be his, and the theory was the Queen would never fight her own child, and so the North would be safe, the war Beyond it won, and Westeros protected, it was a theory, and a good one, but a theory all the same.

Jon had tried to reassure her, he was a Targaryen (he'd said the words more firmly each time, which scared her even more), Targaryens had ridden dragons for centuries, he should be able to, his blood would allow it.

'I don't have a choice Sansa' He'd said one night, the two of them curled up in front of the fire in their quarters, Jon had a book on Targaryen history in his lap, Sansa had a hot cup of tea clasped in her chilled and trembling hands.

'If I don't do this we won't win against the Others, and you know she'll turn on the North eventually' Jon said with a frown, 'She's a conqueror, she won't just let us go, and we have to prioritise the Others and the Night King over all else'

'But you could die' Sansa whispered, eyes wide, shining, worried. She couldn't lose Jon, it didn't matter that she had other family members back, that she wouldn't be alone, without Jon she might as well be, 'I'd rather the North be under her heel than that, I'd rather be walking among the dead, I'd rather be dead'

'I wouldn't' Jon said, and he sounded so sure of himself she knew that was why he was King, he always put their people first, he put the whole of Westeros first, 'The North is ours, it belongs to the Northerners, not a Southern ruler who's never stepped foot in it'

'She hasn't stepped foot in most places' Sansa had grumbled, but nodded, 'But I can't lose you Jon' She said, turning back to him.

He reached across, took her hand; and gaze to gaze she felt a bit better but not enough, not as the utter terror of losing Jon settled over her. She couldn't, she wouldn't lose him, couldn't.

'I'm a Targaryen' He said with a sad smile, his voice hushed, the fire crackling almost covered it, 'I can ride a dragon'

'And Sansa' He paused then, tipped his forehead forward to rest against hers, and she went willingly, breathing him in, odd as it might look to outsiders, this was how she breathed, this was how she lived, 'I'd die a thousand times over to keep you safe' He said, he vowed and as she tried to shake her head in denial he held her still, held her still and nodded against her, 'I will keep you safe'

And that was what they hoped, that was all they had.

"We'll be alright" Jon said with a smile, they couldn't talk freely about their plan now, surrounded by loyal men yes but there could be spies anywhere, instead Sansa just smiled, nervous as she was, as they rode through the Riverlands, making their way to Riverrun, bit by bit.

Riverrun was in front of them, inside a week and a half, just as he had said.

The Northern men would take longer to arrive, but they had arrived, and Jon didn't anticipate needing them, he'd asked for them primarily to ensure there weren't more of the Queens men than his, though the majority had gone to the Rose Road and Highgarden, he knew she'd be a fool to not bring her own contingent.

And as they found tents erected far down from Riverrun, and three dragons flying overhead, Jon knew she had not been a fool.

Still, he didn't flinch, even as he and Sansa shared a look, instead he had his men set up tents, ordering more than needed for when the rest of his men would arrive (inside the next week), left his horse, and left Sansa to organise the men, organise dinner, she was a force as she offered the soldiers smiles, but spoke with firm instructions they all followed without hesitation.

She was as much Queen as he was King.

Almost.

He walked along, Ser Davos was at his side now, as his Hand, and Jon kept his eye on the Queens men, taking in numbers, she'd bought a good contingent, but when the Northerners they'd arrive. He did glance overhead, at the dragons, she'd still have an advantage, a far bigger one, unless he tipped the scales.

As he'd said to Sansa; he had no other choice.

"Your Grace" He said, as he found her, stood outside the largest of the tents, dressed in white and red, with her advisor Missandei by her side, and Lords Tyrion and Varys, all together, they turned to look at him as he arrived, and nodded respectfully, all but one, the circlet of silver atop her head.

"Jon Snow" The Queen said, she did nod, but didn't acknowledge him as a mutual leader, it didn't bother him, though he knew it should, and he stifled a smile, Sansa would say something, Sansa would insist upon him being called Your Grace.

"Is your sister not here?" The Queen asked, and Jon raised an eyebrow, he imagined that was part of the reason she'd wanted Sansa to go back to Winterfell, she was far more likely to stand on ceremony, and Jon knew, Lord Tyrion nor Varys hadn't quite swallowed her words on not understanding politics, she'd been through too much, Sansa was a naïve girl no longer, and they knew it, she was a threat.

"She's seeing to the men, making sure they are comfortable and fed" He said with a smile, pride in his chest, "I wanted to come and meet you"

"That's good of her" Lord Varys said, his eyes flashing with something, Jon tried to ignore it, "Is she always so attentive?"

"To our people?" Jon said, raising an eyebrow, he wasn't sure what Lord Varys was saying, but he didn't like any talk about Sansa that might be a slight to her, to say he was protective of her was an understatement, "Always, as is her place as Lady of Winterfell"

"Wouldn't that be your Queens place?" Daenerys said with a raised eyebrow of her own, he noted they looked a little alike when she did that, he wondered if he would have seen it did he not know their shared heritage.

It was a shame they had such different wants, that they were on opposite sides, they could have been family, what had Maester Aemon said to him once?

'A Targaryen alone in the world, is a terrible thing'

They weren't alone, not anymore, but he was plotting against her, she trying to undermine him. Targaryens had fought throughout history he supposed, but now he'd made this connection, he disliked his plan even more, he'd still do it, he had to, but he could dislike it all the more, for he'd be betraying family, betraying his blood.

But he knew, Sansa would be screaming at him for thinking it, there was more a chance she'd feed him to Drogon rather than embrace him, for he wasn't just a Targaryen, not just her Nephew, he was a threat to her claim, a very real, very solid threat.

He was the Heir.

Not that any of that mattered, not with what he had to focus on, for what was Beyond the Walls, Southern squabbles, even family squabbles paled in comparison.

"I have no Queen" Jon said, and that sounded strange to him, he wasn't sure why.

"I'm surprised you didn't marry" Lord Tyrion said, "As awful as the whole thing is, I'm sure Lady Sansa could attest to that" At that Jon placed a hand on his sword, though Lord Tyrion held his hands up good naturedly, "A poor joke, but marriage is necessary"

"Your Grace isn't married either" Jon said as he nodded his head towards the Queen, she glared at him for it.

"I have my children" She said, her eyes looking up, and Jon felt that pang of guilt again, squashed it down, he had no time for guilt, not when he had an entire country to save, there was no time to feel terrible for what he was about to do, he had to put aside his own honour for this, for his people, for Westeros.

At that Jon just nodded, he didn't think pointing out no dragon could be an Heir would be useful, instead he nodded, glanced at her children for a moment more, his eyes lingering on the green before he tore his gaze away.

"My men will be here inside a few days, I think we should assault then, if we do so at dawn, we may catch them unawares" Jon said, pointing to the Castle, "Shall we convene on the morrow to determine strategy?" He had no intention of being empty handed by then, and no intention of waiting for his men to make his move, he had no time, the Queen and Rhaegal were here, he had to move.

And so, he took the Queens nods, nodded back, and then made his leave, his heart heavy, in another world or another time they could have been family, but in this world, he was going to steal her child.

For the greater good.

That was all he could focus on, that and family, as he made his way back to camp and found Sansa, her cheeks stung pink from the wind, a smile for him as he approached.

All worth it.

Come nightfall, all smiles were gone.

It was time.

He'd thought about waiting, but the dragons had settled a pasture over, alone, the Queen was asleep, his spies had confirmed it, it was the perfect timing, no one would be expecting anything on the first night. They'd already caught and executed two scouts from Riverrun, Sansa was sat up, his cloak in her hands as he hurried, getting his weapons belt secure, a horse saddled for him outside.

There was no time like the present, an old saying of Sams and one he knew he had to follow now.

It would not do, to let cowardice stop him in his tracks. The Queen might want to move after the council tomorrow, the dragons might hide in a cave next time, right now he knew where they, and their Mother were, and right now he had a chance.

A chance to either secure the future, or at least, make the future more likely at least, he had a chance to even the playing field, he had a chance to embrace some of his heritage, recently learned as it was.

Of course, he also had a chance to get fried alive, but he hoped said heritage, and the Targaryen blood, mixed with Stark, pumping through his veins would save him.

He supposed he'd find out.

"Jon…" Sansa began, but she didn't try to stop him, as plain as the fear was written over her face, she knew she couldn't stop him, this was their only move.

"I know" He said gently, for there was nothing more to say, they'd said it all, they'd discussed it all, hushed on the boat, this was the only play, and they had to do it now, "I know"

"Be safe" Sansa said, and then she stood, handed him his cloak, secured it over his shoulders, before she stood in front of him, eye to eye, her Tully blue to his Stark grey, and then she leaned forward, and Jon, not expecting it leaned in, as this time she went up on tiptoes to place a kiss to his forehead, he leaned into it, the comfort just what he needed, the last piece to ensure he did what needed to be done, "And come back to me"

Those words, he nodded, how could he not, and then as she leaned back, and he too, he took her hands and squeezed them, "I will"

And then, released her, and forced himself to walk to the flap of the tent, they shared one last look and then he went into the night before he could turn back, his bravery had never failed him before, he wouldn't let it now, he forced himself to his horse, he had to do this, his fear of never returning to Sansa, even as she'd asked him, couldn't override that.

He had to do this.

And so, he did, he rode into the night, past the camp, his dark cloak concealing him, he had already plotted the route, only rode past Northern tents, into the darkness, far past the light of the torches, an hours ride from the camp, right towards the field where three sleeping dragons lay.

Three sleeping dragons, and yet one was a little apart, Rhaegal he knew, how he wasn't sure but he did, as he lit a torch from the supplies he'd packed and held it aloft, the green scales confirmed it, illuminated as he approached, horse left at the gate, Drogon and Viserion slept further along, but Rhaegal lay alone, half a field over, and Jon knew, knew it would work, knew or hoped, perhaps he was confusing the two.

Still, he continued forward, as the torch shook in his hands, and the dragon cracked an eye open, Jon approached, and hoped his Targaryen blood would be enough, hoped for it had to be.

He took a step forward and approached his dragon, with its eyes now open, a plume of smoke drifting from its nose, approached and stepped a foot on his wing, sent a prayer not to the Old Gods but to those of Valyria, stepped another, and then placed a hand upon Rhaegals snout, his eyes sliding shut, something in him growing warm.

And when Jons eyes opened again they were purple, and Rhaegal was his.

badaboooooom

prettylittlepetticoats + jon targaryen/stark wank = iconic duo

honestly I can't help myself, I hope you enjoy it

also, I think I got the jon/sansa balance right this chapter, let me know if you think so too!

speak soon