The chatter around the castle was all about Lord and Lady Stark having had some kind of argument about the bastard of Winterfell. It had been two days since her mother had found out about Jon and had clearly taken her father to task. Sansa understood both sides, but she wasn't going to choose one, this was not her argument. Instead she became closer to her pack as she referred to them. Rickon was easy, as he was so young, getting used to Bran being Bran and not the Three-Eyed-Raven, was no easy task. She expected a monotone voice and him to be seemingly elsewhere, or his eyes to be white. Robb and Theon were the hardest to adapt to. Theon wasn't the man she had grown to love just before he died. However his traumas were what made him a good man. Before his punishments, his loyalty was questionable, but Sansa understood why. He was confused about his place in the world.
Sansa's biggest problem was with Robb. She still loved him dearly, before he had been her favourite brother. Yet his lack of intent to save her and Arya had destroyed a lot of the faith she had in him. Of course he also made stupid decisions which didn't help matters. As a result, Sansa had been a little bit salty around him, and Robb had noticed. Her defection to Jon and Arya was clear for all to see, and yet, even Arya was slightly set apart from her and Jon. Even Jon was a little more complicated since he'd revealed who he really was. Of course it explained the dragon riding, how they had missed that stupid little fact that only someone with a bit of Targaryen blood can ride a dragon. In the meantime, she had been treating him no different to when he was King in the North, after all, Jon should be the King of the Seven Kingdoms. The problem was securing allies, her father being the first one. Which simply meant waiting for the raven.
Ever since their conversation, both Jon and Robb had helped Sansa with archery. Arya being left-handed wasn't the most helpful of teachers, she hadn't ever had to train anyone else but herself. Robb and Jon were already teaching Bran and Rickon, with the help of Theon, but her mother would never allow her to learn from the Ironborn as he was already too interested in women and her mother was concerned how being close to an Ironborn would look. It was bad enough when she trained with Jon.
Lady Stark had never liked Jon simply because of what he represented. Now he was something else, and her mother had never taken the time to get to know the man he'd grown up to become. Her bitterness had clouded her judgement. Now she watched his every move, took an interest in his studies, his interactions with everyone else in the castle, but especially how Jon behaved around her. At first Sansa was confused by why her mother was glaring so much when Jon straightened her shoulders to draw her bow; but she realised that her mother saw something she didn't, power. Of course Sansa would already have a position of power at court, should she wish it, but she couldn't tell her mother. To Lady Stark, the only way to power was through marriage.
They'd been back six days and were training with the daggers in the Godswood. Sansa's aim was terrible, although it was improving. She was going to be taught how to defend herself with a dagger and how to throw it as an offensive weapon. Having little physical strength and no previous experience, made her life harder than it did for Arya who despite not having the strength, she had the perfect aim, however she couldn't sustain her throws for long.
"My arm is fucking killing me." Arya snapped one night, while Jon was pretending to attack Sansa from behind. She slumped down on the stump and watched them while rubbing her arm.
Jon's arms were wrapped around Sansa's waist from behind and he lifted her up. He might not be as strong as he was from the future, but his strength was still impressive.
"Put me down!" Sansa snapped.
"Try using the dagger on me." Jon laughed.
"I can't reach it." Sansa complained, Arya began to laugh.
"Then fight dirty." Arya encouraged her. "Distract him so you can get to your dagger."
Sansa began to try and find Jon's legs with her own to kick him, hoping he'd drop her. Eventually she managed to catch the back of his knee and they both ended up on the floor, but he was quicker. Within seconds he'd grabbed her dagger and was on top of her with it at her throat. Both of them were panting hard. Arya clapped slowly in the background; Jon got up and helped Sansa to her feet, where she brushed the leaves from her skirt.
"I'll find it easier to learn when I'm wearing breeches." she sighed and sat down on the stump.
"You made it too easy." Jon explained. "I worked out what you were trying to do, so I planned what to do when I fell. I let you kick me."
"You should have headbutted him." Arya shrugged, turning to Jon. "Fancy trying on me?" she asked.
"No thanks, I like living." Jon laughed, turning back to Sansa. "You're doing better than before. Learn to plan your move, don't make it obvious. I know it is easier said than done, but you have to be smart. Arya was right, you should have tried headbutting me. If you'd have missed it would have sent me slightly off balance, giving you time to kick my legs from underneath. I wouldn't have had time to plan my counter move."
"Yes you would." Arya raised her eyebrow at Jon, then turned towards Sansa. "But most wouldn't. There are few in Westeros who could take Jon on now, probably Ser Barristan Selmy and Jaime Lannister, he's younger and still has two hands."
"Have you two sparred yet?" Sansa asked.
"No." Jon shook his head. "Neither of us would learn much, our techniques are very different." he sat next to Arya.
"Mother has been watching you." Arya stated what they'd all been avoiding.
"Aye, I've noticed." Jon sighed. "She's been looking into my work."
"I'm not surprised. Robb mentioned your newfound military genius mind. Even Ser Rodrick has been gushing over it." Sansa picked up a red leaf and absent-mindedly began to twirl it in her fingers.
"She's very interested in the way you behave together." Arya told them. "I've been listening."
Sansa looked at Arya in horror. "You haven't stolen a face already have you?" she asked.
Arya shook her head. "No, I know how to hide in the shadows and listen. I don't know how to put this, but mother thinks Sansa might have taken a fancy to you Jon."
Sansa knew her mother would want her to marry as highborn as possible, but her suddenly seeing things which weren't there just because Jon might be a good prospect was something she hadn't considered. "Mother is looking at it politically." Sansa sighed. "I'm already drawing up a list of potential matches for Jon. Ones with large armies of course."
"I suspect the Tyrell's would be at the top of that list." Arya nodded.
"Lady Margaery is beautiful, cunning, power hungry and has a large army. She'd be perfect for Jon." Sansa told her sister.
"I'm not a piece of meat to be bought and sold." Jon sulked. "Do I get a say in this?"
"Well, not really. Lady Margaery is the only person I can think of who can bring such a large army."
"We are assuming the north will agree to follow me. They might not, especially after they know who I am." Jon reminded them.
"Father will convince them." Sansa said confidently.
"And if he doesn't?" Arya asked. "How do we secure the north?"
"Jon is a northerner, he's from the north..." Sansa started,
"I was born in Dorne." Jon reminded her.
"But raised in the north. That is what matters. The northern Lords would love to have one of their own on the Iron Throne." Sansa sighed. "But..." she flashed her eyes at Jon. "I know, horseshit and all...but will they trust a Targaryen? You might have a point."
"Sansa Stark, cursing. Not very ladylike." Arya scolded.
"I'm going to dress and curse like a wildling when the King comes north." she laughed as Jon looked on in horror. "What? I can bloody curse. Should I start telling the story of Sheila the bear?"
"Sansa, no." Jon said quietly. "We'll find another way to stop you from marrying Joffrey."
"It's alright for you." Sansa said to Arya. "You don't have to worry about all of this...yet."
"I don't really want to worry about it ever." Arya shrugged.
"What about Gendry?" Sansa frowned. "Didn't he... make it all seem more appealing?" she blushed, realising they were talking about sex in front of Jon.
"It was alright I suppose." Arya began to play with her dagger. "I don't want to talk about it."
Deciding it was a good idea to not push the matter further, Sansa turned to Jon. "Should I speak with my father about Lady Margaery? When we get the raven, he believes us."
"It won't happen." Arya told them.
"Why not?" Sansa frowned.
"Mother is already plotting to marry you to one another. She thinks there is more to your relationship." Arya insisted.
"Your mother is right." Jon said, Sansa looked at him strangely. "I don't mean about our relationship. But politically you are my best match. If men march from the Reach, then it will look suspicious. If I have the support of the Starks through not only birth but marriage, it means other matches can be made."
"Since when did you start looking at marriage alliances?" Arya stared at Jon like he'd grown another head.
"Believe it or not, it was one of my duties as King in the North."
"Jon was quite the matchmaker." Sansa told her sister. "He always knew which were the best political alliances. Actually he was better than me."
"Go on then Jon, who would be your best political match?" Arya asked.
Jon stood up. "It's late. I'm going to bed. I've had enough talk of marriage alliances for the night. We'll see what Lord Stark has to say when he finds out we're telling the truth. Hopefully the raven will arrive tomorrow." he stretched. "Goodnight girls. I'd worry about leaving you two here if it wasn't for one of you being one of the most dangerous people in the Seven Kingdoms."
"Goodnight Jon." Sansa called out.
"Good night." Arya said as he walked off. "He couldn't say it." she added quietly.
"Couldn't say what?" Sansa asked.
"His best political match is you." Arya shrugged.
"Arya, no! Just no!"
"Sansa, you bring the north, the Vale and the Riverlands. You can gather an army from right under their noses and wait for Robert to die. Tie Robb to Margaery and then you've got the Reach."
"Arya, he's Jon, you wouldn't do it."
"No, but we've always been brother and sister, you and Jon, well you are already like cousins. If Rhaegar had lived, you'd most likely be betrothed to Jon. He knows that. Why do you think he ran off to bed?"
"Because he's as uncomfortable with this as me." Sansa's heart sank. She'd already guessed that their only chance was for her to secure the north and Robb to secure the Tyrell's. "As soon as the raven arrives we'll suggest Lady Margaery for Robb. If Jon allows the north its independence then she'll get to be the Queen she wanted to be."
The next two days were awkward. Both Jon and Sansa had come to the realisation that a match between them was the most advantageous one to Jon. Sansa had never wanted to wed again, but it looked like she would have to relinquish herself once more. At least this time it was with someone who would never hurt her. On the other hand it would mean a return to kings landing, something she'd already agreed to. Would he agree to her having a position on the small council? Sansa was thinking too far ahead.
They'd almost given up on Jon Arryn when that afternoon, their father called the three of them from their lessons to his solar. They sat down, awaiting the vindication. Father pinched his nose.
"You have been proven correct. Jon Arryn is dead, according to the raven, a fever took him. You tell me he's been poisoned." he sighed.
"Lysa Arryn gave him the poison which was provided by Littlefinger." Sansa told him. "Trying to force your hand to go to Kings Landing is to take you out of the game."
"The game?" Ned frowned.
"The great game; the game of thrones." Sansa told him. "You cannot go south, you'll end up dead."
"How?" Ned asked.
"Beheading." Arya told him. "Sansa and I will be forced to watch. Robert will be dead before you, I don't think you can stop that from happening. Then the world turns to shit."
"Arya, there is no need to use that type of language." her father's face was stern.
"If you saw how shit the world becomes, then yes there is a good reason to use that sort of language." Sansa decided to stand up for Arya. Her sister might be a faceless assassin, but this was their father, nothing could save her from his wrath.
Ned looked stunned at Sansa's outburst. "What needs to be done?"
"You need to say no to King Robert, too much is happening in the north for you to be able to accept the position of hand of the King." Sansa said.
"I will not grant permission for Sansa to be wed to prince Joffrey." Jon said. "He's Jaime Lannister's bastard. All of Cersei's children were sired by him."
"Your curiosity is what got you and Robert killed. You warned Cersei to leave, believing you were saving her. She had Robert killed and you were branded a traitor by trying to prevent Joffrey from taking the Iron Throne." Sansa explained. "By going to Kings Landing, you are putting the King in more danger."
"If you have any love for Robert, you will say no." Jon insisted.
"Anything else?" Ned asked.
"Betroth Robb to Margaery Tyrell. She's beautiful and I'm sure Robb would be quite enamoured by her. Also she would bring a large army for when Jon decides to take the Iron Throne." Sansa told her father as Jon lowered his eyes. "Or Jon could..." she started but Jon looked up at her and shook his head. "Sorry. I'll let you choose."
"We will have this conversation later." Jon insisted.
Ned frowned. "He's pining for his lost love." Arya explained. "I don't think marriage is his greatest priority. Not that he'd have been able to marry her."
"Why not?" Ned asked, suddenly sympathetic.
"I didn't know at the time, until it was too late. But I was..." Jon started.
"He was being manipulated by Daenerys Targaryen. He fell in love with her, despite her being a tyrant." Sansa sighed. "I don't think I need to go further into how she did it, I'm sure you are quite capable of using your imagination." she told her father who blushed.
"You don't approve?" Ned asked.
"There's more to it than that, but she is of little consequence right now. She is about to marry a Dothraki Khal, she'll soon hatch three dragons. One of which belongs to Jon." Sansa explained.
"I wouldn't say he belongs to me." Jon disagreed.
"Dragons aren't friendly with anyone but their rider." Arya argued. "He was friendly with you."
"So was Drogon. Dany was his rider." Jon corrected her.
"I didn't know that he was friendly towards you. How friendly?" Sansa frowned.
"Drogon approached me, I stroked him, he liked it." Jon shrugged.
"I'll ask Maester Luwin to search the libraries about dragon lore." Ned offered.
"With respect, Lord Stark, the person who you ought to ask is Maester Aemon of the Night's Watch, after all, he is a Targaryen." Jon suggested. "They will take years to grow, we have plenty of time to find out what we need, before we need them."
"Need them?" Ned raised an eyebrow.
"The deserter was telling the truth. The army of the dead marches on the wall. It will be years from now, but we can slow them down. Give us more time." Jon said.
"How?" Father asked.
"We need to speak with Mance Rayder, he is gathering the clans. We must let them settle below the wall under the condition that they fight for us when the army of the dead arrive. It increases our army and decreases the army of the dead." Jon stated.
"The northern Lords won't accept it." Ned shook his head.
"Then we don't tell them." Sansa shrugged. "Jon takes the throne and allows them to settle in the new gift."
"Or I ask Mance to fight with me for the Iron Throne. He won't kneel to a southron King, but it doesn't mean he won't fight for one. I won't ask him to kneel. I don't need to." Jon smiled. "His army is a hundred thousand strong. They'll go back north once we've defeated the army of the dead." Jon mused.
"We need to talk to uncle Benjen. He'll be here for the King's feast." Sansa nodded. "But we need to address the immediate threats."
"Joffrey." Jon sighed. "I know."
Ned frowned. "Prince Joffrey? Is this regarding Sansa's betrothal?" he asked.
Jon nodded. "We need to get her out of Winterfell while they are here. Tell them she is betrothed to another."
"Betrothals can be broken, especially where the King is concerned." Ned shook his head. "She needs to be wed, it is the only way I can say no."
"Why don't you two marry now?" Arya asked. "The marriage can't be consummated yet, so it can be annulled later. King Robert cannot force a marriage. Allow Jon and Sansa to go to one of the empty holdfasts while the King is here, then when he leaves they can return and everything will be alright."
Sansa shook her head. "Varys and Littlefinger. There will be spies. Father not agreeing to go to Kings Landing will cause Littlefinger to rethink his plans to kill father."
"He wants me dead?" Ned asked.
"He is in love with mother." Sansa told him.
"Which he then transfers to Sansa." Jon added. "He was inappropriate, even while she was young."
"We'll have to risk spies." Ned said. "Jon, sorry,your grace. What are your thoughts on the matter?"
"Sansa has the last say. I would not oppose a marriage if Sansa is happy with it. Of course it won't be consummated until necessary, unless Sansa wishes it to be annulled." he smiled sadly.
Sansa nodded. "A temporary marriage. We can restore the keep at Queenscrown, if you can provide the men, father." Sansa suggested.
"Arya, go find your mother and Robb. We need to marry Jon and Sansa today and have them leave for Queenscrown on the morrow." Ned said.
"All three of us need to go." Arya told them. "None of us are safe here."
"Aye, I think you're right." Ned agreed as Arya left.
"Open up Queenscrown, if as you say we need the wildlings on this side of the north, the gift needs to be readied. Queenscrown is the capital and someone will need to run it." Ned said.
"Don't worry father. We rebuilt Winterfell after it was destroyed. Queenscrown will seem simple in comparison. Of course, we'll need men and materials."
"I can provide that." Ned nodded. "I can send a hundred men to help restore the keep and build the infrastructure around it. It will need an inn..." he started, but Jon shook his head.
"Restore the keep. The Freefolk are quite capable of setting up their own town infrastructure, although a hundred thousand men, women and children are going to be a lot to deal with. But we have some time before we need to resort to letting them below the wall." Jon agreed. "But right now, I'm more worried about how Robb is going to react to finding out I'm about to marry his sister."