authorsnote: badabaaaa it's update time!

do enjoy, I loved writing this chapter - this story is so much fun to write, it's a rarely explored concept and I am loving carving it out!

do leave a review, leave me your guesses as to what's going on, I love to see them! but most importantly - do enjoy!

songrecs: exception - renforshort (awesome ep, go check it out)

They run back to the room … their room? His room? Like a fire is chasing them down the hallway.

First, they nod to the guard, rather Jon does, she's frozen slightly in shock, thankfully the guard doesn't pay her the slightest bit of mind, as Jon nods, turns, takes her hand, and grips it hard as he tugs her around and leads her around the corner.

It's when they turn said corner that he breaks into a run, and she knows to follow.

They don't stop, they don't slow, they don't so much as look behind them until they are back in the room they woke up in, the room that she suddenly realises is much nicer than the one she'd stayed in, and she now notices leads off into other rooms, they don't stop, until Jon is closing the door, bolting it and then dragging a large wooden trunk in front of it for good measure.

"Got to check the other entrances" Jon says quickly, running through one of the three connecting doors. It's open here, light, just as she remembered, that should be nice, airy and sunny and pretty, but it just reminds her of the past.

Even with the windows flung open, the balcony inviting, she feels as though there's not enough air in the room.

Jon is back quickly and she hasn't moved, just stood in the middle of the room, the air thin, her hands shaking a touch. She hates how weak she feels, how nervous, but it's this place, this awful, evil place she'd promised never to return to, it brings it out in her.

"Sansa!" Only Jon's voice snaps her out of her fear, and even then her hands still shake.

"What is happening?" She whispered, glancing at the balcony. She then glances back at the door and turns, walks to said balcony and Jon follows; easier to not be heard with the wind dancing by.

"I don't know" Jon said, and he looked as worried as her, though she knew she looked more likely to throw up, she felt like she might, if she were capable of doing anything but trembling.

Without warning she's pulled into Jon's arms, her place of ultimate safety, and though it takes several minutes she feels herself start to calm, her shaking tapering off, her hands stilling, the fluttering of her heart, thudding in her ears slows. It's enough to focus her, for now.

This place won't be done with throwing her back down memory lane and terrifying her, she knows that much.

"We died" Sansa says, out loud it sounds strange, but it was true, wasn't it? Who knew in this world, of magic and monsters that had been myth for so long, but now truth, still, it was the most reasonable explanation, relatively. "And now here"

"Aye" Jon said, "But I presume it's different?"

She nodded then, "I can see now, it looks a touch different" She did glance around the room, "I haven't seen this room before"

"It's huge" Jon said, leaning against the balcony, "There's a sitting room through there, armoury, bathroom" He shook his head, "It's more like a house than rooms put together"

"We're in a suite then" Sansa said, "The royal family usually have them" She'd never thought nor hoped her knowledge of Kings Landing would be of use to her, but here they were, she supposed it was a good thing.

"Well, that adds up" Jon said, shaking his head, "You heard what the guard called me, and I don't think it was because I was King in the North"

"You are King in the North" Sansa corrected, almost automatically, her defence in Jon's position had always been fierce, and he even cracked a smile she noticed, to which she rolled her eyes, "Though perhaps not here"

"So, a different place" Jon said, he didn't finish the sentence, but it was clear he'd worked it out, and she did too, just as he turned to her, expectant, and she took a breath before steeling herself to finish his thought, say it out loud.

"And a different time"

It was the only thing that made sense, she realised. The guard had been wearing Targaryen regalia, and she could see the sigil on the wall above the bed now as she looked. Once the Lannister Lion would have sat there, she found she preferred the Targaryen Dragon, as insane as they were.

"It's what makes sense" Jon said, a bitter smile on his face, "Doesn't explain why the guard spoke to me that way" Sansa nodded; she knew what he meant, with respect.

"Hmm" Sansa mulled, this was a good distraction from her utter fear for being here, but it was making her head ache.

"Let's break it down" Jon offered, and she nodded, they often did this, going through things step by step when they had a difficult problem to solve, though in the past it had been working out the best farming methods or how to bring together troops, not to try and unravel a mystery this surreal.

"Okay so we died" Sansa confirmed, and Jon nodded, "Woke up here"

"Here being Kings Landing" Jon said, and she nodded then, "And then the Guard spoke to me like I was royalty"

Another nod, "And didn't recognise me"

"And, he wore Targaryen armour" Jon said, and Sansa glanced back into the room, Jon followed her gaze, and his expression hardened as he saw the sigil above the bed.

"So, the Targaryen's rule here" Sansa said, "And haven't for a long time before now"

"Almost 30 years" Jon said, and Sansa nodded, a long time since King Robert had crushed the Targaryen dynasty, but here it was clearly going strong.

"So, we have to be in the past" Sansa said; it would sound ridiculous to her, but she'd experienced enough strangeness in her life up until now, especially in the last year that it didn't seem that odd.

They'd faced wights, others, ice spiders and giants, people rising from the dead, Jon coming back to life, fire magic and dragons, time travel didn't seem that far fetched in comparison.

Or perhaps she was in shock; she had just died, a first for her, Jon was perhaps taking it in better stride because he'd done this before, at least partially.

Yes, shock seemed likely, but as long as it kept her standing, focusing and not having a meltdown over being back in her own personal hell … she'd take it.

"Makes sense I suppose" Yes, Jon was taking it well, but then from what he'd told her, he'd faced strangeness for longer than her, and of worse degrees. He glanced at Sansa then and smiled a touch, "As much as any of this can"

She nodded, she felt like she was doing that a lot, but she did it the same, "But how do we fit in here?"

"Well, he didn't recognise you, but addressed me as royalty, Targaryen royalty I guess" Jon said, his smile gone, eyebrows knitting together, mulling that over then, and she knew why.

It was easy then to forget her own shock, her own fear, as she reached out, placed a hand on Jon's arm, and offered him a smile, or as much as she could manage, she even stepped closer, "You're not them"

"I know" Jon said, but he sounded doubtful, he had been doubtful of his sense of self she knew, ever since Bran and Howland Reed had revealed the truth.

It had been only a few months before the battle, in the crypts …

'Do you think it looks like him?' Sansa had asked, stood in front of the statue of her Father, Eddard Stark, Jon by her side, her arm looped through his, as they were often seen together nowadays.

'I think so' Jon said, and then he nodded, 'Aye, as much as it can'

'The stone cutter didn't know his face' Sansa said with a sad smile, 'Few people do'

'We do' Jon offered, 'We'll remember him'

She rested her head on his shoulder, for a few moments, and then a few more, her gaze on her Father's face; not quite right, but it had the makings of him, and offered his resting place, home, finally.

Next to their Aunt Lyanna.

Even fewer people would remember her face, Sansa and Jon had never met her of course, but the stone cutter had done a nice job, everyone had said she was beautiful, and the statue was too.

'Your Grace?' They both turned, they were rarely disturbed when down here, and that meant it was important, as a guard came into view, looking apologetic.

'Yes?' Jon asked, eyebrow raised, the guard looked more nervous than urgent, 'Your brother asks to speak to you, Brandon? Howland Reed too, they also request you Lady Sansa'

They both raised eyebrows at that but nodded and followed along; Bran had arrived home just days earlier, pensive, quiet, contemplative, and wiser than either could remember, he had said little, and so calling on them, both of them must be important.

Though where Howland Reed fitted into the mix, other than he'd arrived the day before, to see his daughter, to offer support in the war, an odd expression on his face when he looked at Jon, they didn't know.

They soon did.

Sansa remembered the air rushing through her head, her eyes wide, her heart pounding as Bran had delivered the news, and Howland produced both Robb's will, and a document; a birth certificate, from their Father, … her Father, not Jon's, a marriage certificate too, proclaiming the truth, the truth of who Jon's Mother was, and Father now too.

She had near fallen to her knees herself, only got it together as Jon had stumbled, actually stumbled, and then she had been at his side, from then to now, always, he was a Stark to her, that was all that mattered, and so by his side she stayed.

It was all that had mattered to the Northerners as well, when they'd broken the news, Bran saying just what he'd said to them, Howland with the documents in hand.

'Jon is not the son of Eddard Stark, but of his sister, Lyanna, and her husband, Rhaegar Targaryen'

Outrage at first, and then a dawning of the implication of Bran's word, the very real and important implication.

'He's the Heir to the Iron Throne'

'He's the King in the North first!' Sansa had proclaimed, then Arya too said the same, who'd accepted the news without a flinch, and yells of agreement had followed.

'He has Stark blood!'

'He's a Stark!'

'Of Winterfell'

A second crowning almost, a reaffirmation of agreement, half Targaryen yes, but half Stark too, and so still their Leader, their King, her King.

It had gone better than they'd hoped, but Jon had still struggled, to know he was of a line of madness, that both his parents were dead, that he'd never known them. It had been hard for him, but she'd been there.

Always had been, always would be.

Even here, especially here.

"None of this makes sense" Jon grumbled, and Sansa nodded. The coming alive again they could digest, the time travel, swallow, just, but Jon's status here? How did that work, how did they fit in?

"What do we do?" Sansa asked; as Jon had said before, they couldn't stay in here forever, hiding away, they needed answers. They needed answers and they needed them now, but how did they go about getting them?

She didn't have the slightest idea, the thought of even leaving this room made her shake. The air still felt thin, as she knew it would every second, she stayed here.

"We need to know when we are" Jon said, and grimaced; it sounded off to say out loud, "And go from there"

That made sense, a starting point, figure out where in history they'd somehow landed and then try and deduce what that meant.

How they'd do that she had no idea, and how she was still standing and hadn't keeled over in faint she didn't know.

Shock, definitely shock, keeping her standing, adrenaline rushing through her veins, her heart pumping furiously, she knew tonight, when she collapsed into sleep, she'd do so fitfully, but for a while.

"So we leave?" Sansa asked, biting down on her lip, eyes wide; she looked down at how she was dressed, Jon too, both grubby, blood-stained clothes, she was just thankful the guard hadn't noticed.

"Yes" Jon said, "We can't stay hidden here" He was right, and she nodded, even as her hands began to shake again.

"Hey" he said, snapping her a touch out of her burgeoning fear again, this room was bad enough, but she knew they must be in the Red Keep, and so to go further into it … she shuddered. "I'll protect you"

She looked at Jon then, and his expression was so sincere she managed a tiny smile, she knew he'd do that, protect her, he promised it, and Jon didn't break a promise. She nodded, as scared as she remained, never doubtful of his intent nor promise, but doubtful that anyone could protect her against the cruelty of the world in the end … she leaned in as Jon pulled her into his arms.

Her safe place, of comfort, of safety, and she closed her eyes, leaning in further as Jon placed a kiss to her forehead. There, she felt a touch better.

"We should wash, change" Sansa said, and Jon nodded, they could hardly go traipsing about Kings Landing like this, looking battle worn, thank goodness for unobservant guards, their guards would have never been so unperceptive, Jon, Tormund and Ser Davos had made sure of that.

"There's a bathroom through there" Jon pointed, "And another off here" He pointed to another door, and she nodded, taking the nearest.

It took a while to scrub all of the blood off, the dirt, the water not running clean for several minutes, but as she rinsed her hair she felt infinitely better for it, to be clean again, to be alive … she hadn't dared hope.

There were no marks on her now, no wound where Jon had killed her; childhood scars remained, but any cuts, bruises from the battle were gone … reborn in a sense, though this body was still hers, and the jagged line on her knee from a childhood fall brought her some odd comfort.

This was still her, she was still Sansa Stark, her red hair hitting the bottom of her back as she braided it, her porcelain skin still hers, she was still Sansa, Little Dove, Lady of Winterfell, the Kings Spymaster as some had said, Sansa Stark, eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, Lady of Winterfell.

Sansa.

Not here though, here the guard hadn't known her, only Jon likely did, but then wasn't that all that mattered? Perhaps it was better not being known, it would be complicated figuring out how Jon fit in here, nevermind her too.

She was here, alive, clean, Sansa Stark, and for that she wept, hunching over a touch in the large bath, wept out of fear, worry, and relief, overwhelming relief, she was here, she was alive, and she wept to have survived, with Jon, and for those who hadn't been so lucky.

She emerged about half an hour later, wrapped in a robe, hair dried and left loose on reflection, braids not really the Southern style, at least not the way she styled them. Instead, she had brushed it, and now she turned to Jon, who was clean, dressed in fresh clothes, of high quality, black and red, and on the tunic was stitched the Targaryen sigil.

The colour suited him, as much as she didn't like seeing it on him.

"These are for you" Jon said, holding out plain clothes, a tunic and breeches and Sansa raised an eyebrow, "No dresses here" Jon said with an apologetic look, but he almost laughed; this was clothing for Arya, not her, and yet Sansa hardly had a choice, her old clothes were ruined after all.

Still, she shot Jon a look not to tease her as she turned away.

Back into the bathroom she went, and when she emerged, belt looped twice around the plain brown tunic, breeches folded over three times, she was just thankful her boots had survived, and Jon's laughter made her feel a touch better, teasing or no, even as she rolled her eyes.

"It suits you" He offered, a twinkle in his eye, and Sansa felt the very Arya like thing to do would be to wallop him, and yet she hadn't become that unladylike … yet.

"Oh does it?" Instead, she offered, and she smiled then too as Jon laughed.

"Here" Jon handed her a plain sword then, a light one, and she raised an eyebrow before Jon stepped forward and strapped it to her belt, "Your cover is that you're a training master from overseas, here as my companion, helping me train, can you put your hair up?"

"I hope no one asks for a demonstration" Sansa grumbled, but it made sense; she couldn't wander around as a nobody, and so she pulled her hair into a severe bun, strapped her sword (which felt odd and she had no intent to use), before Jon handed her two daggers to add to her waist belt, she supposed a training master would have more than one weapon.

"Is this the best idea?" She asked, feeling most unlike herself as she ever had, she wasn't sure how she felt about it.

"Just for today" Jon offered, "Hopefully we don't run into anyone, but if we do it's the best cover right? Royalty often have companions? It's the best cover." He said, "Or the best I could think of"

She did nod, his reasoning made sense and she couldn't think of anything else, not with what they had at their disposal. "We should get more supplies, outfits for when we return" Jon nodded, evidently on the same page.

As they often were, which made things so much easier.

And so there they were, Sansa looking so unlike herself it was odd to glance in the mirror opposite, and Jon … he didn't look like himself either, clad in Targaryen colours, Longclaw at his hip, sheathed but present, and yet … that was what she wanted to think, as Jon looked a touch uncomfortable but nodded, opening the door at her nod.

Jon looked not like himself, and yet somehow like the embodiment of the Targaryen Heir he was, all at once.

"Ready?" He asked, and she nodded, resisting the urge to take his hand, and instead fell into step beside him; she was no Lady here, no one would curtsey or take her arm, she was a companion, not Sansa Stark, not a Lady, not the Lady of Winterfell.

Sansa Stark no more.

"It'll be alright, I promise" Jon said, and that was enough to take her over the doorway, to step out into the hallway, and follow Jon right this time, instead of left, less stealthy, they didn't need to be now, not when they knew Jon could walk these corridors as he pleased.

And so, she followed, in step beside him, hand on her sword, for all she could use it, she knew that was how Arya often walked around, Jon did too, hand on Longclaw, eyes always scanning, on alert, she tried to copy that as she followed him.

Followed Jon, deeper into the Red Keep, into her prison.

sooo thoughts?

hot damnnnn it's heating up!

pov wise, just to make you aware: this will be like jon/sansa fairly even split, with the occasional other pov, but only occasionally - this is sansa and jon's story after all!

I've had LOTS of questions on the twists, what's going on etc, and all I'll say is it will all be revealed! mwahahaha, but do keep guessing, I love it!

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