authorsnote: two updates in one night? I am on a roll! the other update (shameless shill here) is to another of my jon and sansa centric asoiaf fics: winter is here, check it out on my page if you haven't already!

do lemme know watcha think of this - this fic is so fun to write but damn I spent just like an hour researching stuff!

songrecs: all the kings horses - karmina

edit: there was an error with how someone was named (see later in fic), that has been corrected (I jumped back on my computer at 1am to edit this! don't say I don't love you guys!)

It was no lie he felt uncomfortable.

This wasn't the life for him, even when he'd been King, he hadn't been comfortable with the pomp, the circumstance, the finery. Here his clothing, it was finer than anything he'd ever owned, Targaryen black and red; he'd had months to adjust to being Targaryen and yet he'd always put himself as a Stark first, even now, even here.

And yet he wore the red and black of the dragon here, and knew this wasn't the time to doubt his heritage, not when so much was at stake, not when they needed to fit in here, not when it was crucial, that they not raise any suspicions.

Targaryen, he had been named, Targaryen here he would have to be, to keep himself safe, and more importantly to keep Sansa safe.

They also needed to know why and perhaps how they'd returned here, and to do that he needed to be alive, and free, and being a Targaryen Prince would offer that to him.

And so, he stepped inside the Throne Room, he'd never been here before, and yet he noticed Sansa raise an eyebrow, but she gave nothing away on her face, just clutched Jon's arm tightly as the herald called their names, and they stepped inside.

Heir? The blood near drained from his face, well that made things more complicated, however he'd need to think on that later, first he took in his surroundings.

As any good general would do, he took in exits, entrances and then the people, potential threats as they were.

The court was full of people dressed in finery, red, black, blue and some green. There were people of every skin colour, every Kingdom most likely, all talking, but fell silent as he walked in. He could see a man staring intently at Sansa, older, with fish scales across his armour, ahh.

Here Sansa was Sansa Tully, could this be the Lord Tully? Likely wondering what his daughter was doing on the Princes arm?

Well, there she'd remain if Jon had anything to say about it.

He then looked up at the dais.

So, this was the Iron Throne, it was truly great, a bit garish for Jon, but there was no denying it's sheer size and structure, magnificent and powerful, though as he'd thought it was a bit much for the space, but the man on it filled it well.

He immediately compared it to the seat he'd sat in as Lord Commander, a humble black chair, only slightly taller than the rest but not by much, and then as King in the North, slightly more ornate, carved wood, but nothing like this.

The man on the Throne looked down at him as he looked up.

Aegon Targaryen, he realised, and had Sansa not pinched his arm he'd have stumbled. He'd seen the man sketched in books on the history of Westeros, and there was no mistaking him. Sure, they'd focused more on Northern history in his lessons, but the initial founding of Kings Landing, of Westeros had been drilled into him too.

Aegon Targaryen matched the sketches, and there was the crown on his head; a circlet of Valyrian steels with square cut rubies.

And next to him two women stood.

There was the woman he had yet to see, softer, pretty, dressed in red, her gown was soft, her tiara too, she smiled at him as he approached with affection, but he knew as he turned to the other woman.

This was his Mother here, as she'd spoken outside referring to him as her son.

She was the woman in icy blue, her cheekbones sharp, her entire manner deadly. Where one sister was soft and kind, one was sharp, fierce, it almost reminded him of Sansa and Arya when they were younger, though perhaps not, Sansa had always been soft, but Arya not sharp, scrappy might be better a term.

Still, the softer woman had to be Rhaenys Targaryen, which meant…

Here he was the child, the Prince of Aegon Targaryen, legendary conqueror, and his sister, his Mother here, Visenya Targaryen.

He'd never had a Mother, and yet she smiled at him too, it stirred something strange in him.

"My son" Visenya spoke with a smile, soft but only for him, "Come here" She held a hand out for him.

He didn't go to take it, for he didn't want to leave Sansa, but she pinched him, hard and tucked her hand out from under him, here they had parts to play, he knew that, and yet as she stepped away, he glanced back at her, even as she nodded, resisting the urge to pull her back. He didn't want them to be separated, but he knew they could raise no suspicion.

They were strangers here, in a situation they didn't know, with people they recognised but didn't know either, he hated to let go of her, almost couldn't, but he knew she was right, for now they needed to go along with it.

And so, he let Sansa go, watched as she went towards the Tully man, as she'd summarised as he had, and he stepped forward and took his Mothers hand.

His Mother … not really, and yet, he'd never had one, was it wrong to be lulled in? Even if just for a flickering of a second?

"Late again" She whispered as the conversation in court sprung up again, though she smiled, "Tell me, what were you doing with Lord Tully's daughter?"

"Yes, do tell" He turned then to see the King, Aegon Targaryen, a living legend coming down from the Throne, and he smiled, smiled, and clapped his shoulder.

Jon was just thankful Sansa had drilled a face that didn't show anything into him, and that countless negotiations with Northerners and the wildlings meant stoicism had been employed in him for a while.

He was also thankful so many insane, magical things had occurred over the years, that he could take it all in stride. Just.

"I like her" He almost cringed at his Northern accent; no changing that, and yet oddly his … parents here, didn't comment on it.

"Interesting" Queen Visenya … his Mother here said with a wicked smile, "Finally looking at women and not just your sword"

"Now, now Visenya" Aegon said with a grin, "All that swordplay has paid off, your tutor tells me you are fantastic Jon"

"Aye, thank you" Another cringe, gods could he sound anymore out of place? He even sounded awkward to himself, he'd never be a natural liar, good at it as he'd gotten with time.

"Good gods, just one year fostering in the North and you sound like one of them" Queen Visenya said with a roll of her eyes, ahh that explained it, though he found it a touch too convenient, what meddling forces were at play here?

"But now, remember we need you here, to focus on the court, our reign here is new still, we have much to solidify" Queen Visenya said, "Never forget that our dynasty is just starting"

"I know … Mother" He said, and she offered him a smile again, cupped his cheek, gods this was odd.

"Good, now Aegon" She turned to him then and he nodded, offered her a smile … strange, all the books had always said Aegon's love had been for Rhaenys, not Visenya, and yet the smile he offered her spoke of love, whereas Rhaenys went ignored on the other side of the Throne.

Had history been wrong, or were things different here?

He knew he needed to remember all of this, store all of this information and go over it with Sansa later. It was a tactic he'd often used in battle, store everything away in his mind and unpick later, perhaps even write it down.

For now, he had to be here, in the moment as Aegon, the Aegon Targaryen stepped back to the Throne, nodded at Jon to take the seat by his side, by Visenya, and held court, for now he was here.

His eyes lifted to find Sansa, smiling, laughing, a natural when it came to deception, and he meant that to her credit. She'd handled Kings Landing before after all, and even though he knew she hated it, she was a natural here.

She glanced back at him, and offered him a smile, Jon one back, and they weren't the only two to notice it.

The second his hand left hers she struggled.

She hated herself for the weakness, hated how she had to screw her hands into fists, so they didn't shake, hated that she forced a smile onto her features and her teeth almost chattered.

She hated it here.

It was a bit easier, surrounded by dragons not lions or stags, and she had noted this structure was different, very different to the Throne Room she remembered, it had been clear why when she'd seen who the King was.

The Aegon Targaryen, she'd almost gasped, composing herself at the last second, forcing Jon to do the same. Aegon Targaryen had named his seat Kings Landing but had built it on the Aegon Fort, the first version of the Red Keep, not yet complete, hence the differences, which made it a touch easier, but only a touch.

They needed to blend in here until they could figure out what was going on, and yet it was hard to do, for Jon no doubt as he was ushered to the dais, and for her too as she knew where she needed to go next.

Here she was Lady Sansa Tully, and it was easy to spot Lord Tully; Edmyn here, as she remembered from her history, she was suddenly happy her Father had seen they needed to know all of Westerosi history, not just the Northern part, it made things easier, she was also thankful he'd insisted Jon be included in the lessons.

And so, she made her way over to her Father here, not that she'd consider him that, her Father was Lord Eddard Stark, even if he was gone, or technically not born yet in this world.

She wrinkled her nose yet, best not to think about that too hard, time travel was already making her head hurt, trying to unpick it promised a headache.

They would need to of course, but for now she instead moved towards the Tully section of the court, in fish scales, the blue of her dress matching their colours. Here she was a Tully, with her red hair and blue eyes it was easy; Family, Duty, Honour, at least she agreed with her Mothers houses motto, though she'd come to prefer her Fathers.

Winter is Coming.

It was true even now.

"My daughter" Edmyn Tully offered her a smile, and she could see her Grandfather in him, her Uncle, and his smile was kind which was a relief.

"Father" She said with a dip of a curtsey and he laughed then before pulling her into a hug.

"My formal Little Lady" She grinned at that, forcing herself too; she knew how to flatter, how to use her courtesies, and she'd need them in full force here. "If only your Mother wasn't stuck at Riverrun with your sister, she'd preen to see you fitting in so well"

Blend in, blend in, that was all that was shrieking in her head, they could unpack everything later, for now she knew blending in was their best bet. She noted the bit about her supposed Mother, good, one less person to fool.

"Tell me daughter, what were you doing with the Prince?" Her Father asked then, and two people around him, women, looking very much like her real Mother leaned in; Aunts if she had to guess.

"Yes Sansa" One spoke, "Do tell your Aunties what mischief you've been up to"

"Not mischief" Another scolded, "Sansa is a good girl"

"Of course, Auntie" She offered, and was thankful she'd been right as one smiled and the other scowled, "Jon and I struck up a friendship"

"We've been here two weeks" One said with a little grin, "Fast work, perhaps?"

"Now, now Miniesa" One said with a shake of her head, "You know the Targaryen's only marry their own"

"Yes, but perhaps this time" Lord Tully said, stroking the red beard that so matched Sansa's hair, Tully's indeed, "Sansa is a great beauty, perhaps he'll prefer her"

"Like it's his choice" Her unnamed Aunt said with a shake of her head.

"Lysie" The other said, there, the blanks were being filled in, "The Prince has his Mothers favour, the only one so, and is the only boy in the line, he may have more freedom"

There was a lot to take in, a lot to remember, and yet Sansa knew her mind was good, quick, tucking away the information to remember later. It was a good distraction too, though she still dug her nails not her palms to stop herself from crumpling, enough to draw blood but also to keep her upright.

"Hush now" Lysie said, with a smile for her niece, and her sister, "Court is starting"

"You do look beautiful in that dress Sansa" Miniesa said with a grin, "We shall get you a new one for the Prince"

It was odd to hear them talking about Jon as though he were a catch to her, though something did occur to Sansa.

Women and men didn't spend time alone, unchaperoned here, it was unheard of, even in courting, and yet she and Jon would need to be together as much as they could, she couldn't be parted from him, not for long, not if they wanted to figure out what was going on, not if she were to keep it together.

An idea came to her, forming, scheming as she often did, her time under various spymasters and schemers having installed that in her, an idea that might just fix that problem, and yet might create others.

Court took its time, Jon wasn't sure if it was usually the way in the South to take so many breaks, but it dragged on and by the end Jon's fingers felt itchy.

His usual day in the North was listening to petitioners and holding court yet (though a Northern court was much different), but it also included sword training, talking to Sansa, and he was feeling a distinct lack of the latter two.

Things were different here yes, but Jon knew they couldn't be too different, the plan was to blend in, and it was easier than he anticipated, but they had much to figure out, he didn't plan to spend days sat in a chair on the dais.

He did glean some stuff as the petitioners spoke, and his several glances at Sansa told him she was doing the same.

It was six years into Aegon's reign, two years since he'd conquered 6 of the 7 Kingdoms, the North included, and so far, it was going well but was new. There were problems with the Faith (the queer Southern Gods, it didn't surprise him they had problems), problems with Dorne (unconquered as he knew), and issues with the dragons – of course, there were dragons here.

He was just pleased he'd seen them before, as he knew he'd need to see them again, and having been a little more used to them was in his favour.

Other than that, it was the typical petitions, marriage alliances, requests for land and money, and all of that, much he'd dealt with himself as King in the North.

By the looks of it Aegon Targaryen was fair, strong, honest, and Jon found himself smiling to find the legend from the paper was not a disappointment. Queen Visenya stepped in a few times, and though she was more brutal, she too was fair, and Jon couldn't help but think the history books had done her wrong in making her seem so sour.

"Jon" She spoke then, his Mother here … gods that was strange, this whole situation was, he was just thankful he was apparently used to strange, "Do stop fidgeting" She spoke between her teeth, a skill Sansa had mastered and he never had, "Court will be over soon"

"Sorry Mother" Yes, certainly strange.

Thankfully it was only fifteen minutes more and court wrapped up.

"I can see Jon was itching in his seat" He turned then to see Queen Rhaenys, kind and sweet smiling at him, "My dear nephew, not get your training in today?"

"He was too busy with the Lady Sansa" Queen Visenya spoke, and again Jon was struck as the sisters smiled at one another, once again history had made them out to be rivals, but they offered one another an easy smile and banter.

"I saw" Queen Rhaenys said with a cheeky grin, "I'm sure our dear Aegon is delighted to see you take your nose away from the battleground to a woman"

He knew he blushed then, abashed that apparently here it was much like he had been as a child, focused, brooding, though much had changed in that since he'd become a man, though not here.

At least that was an easy act to follow, after all he knew he could still brood with the rest of them.

"Oh, we only tease my love" Queen Visenya said, "Do go and train if you wish"

"Actually" A perfect opening rarely came, and he could see it here, "I thought I might take Lady Sansa for a walk"

"Careful Jon" Queen Visenya spoke then, a touch severer, "Don't lead the poor girl on"

"Jon knows he will marry a Valyrian woman" Queen Rhaenys chided her sister then, and he near raised an eyebrow, indeed this sibling relationship had been inaccurately portrayed on the pages, they were just like sisters, bickering one minute, laughing the next, "But there is surely no harm in keeping the Tully's close?"

"We raised them to be Lord Paramount's" Queen Visenya countered as he spotted the King, Aegon Targaryen, his Father here descending the steps, "We have their loyalty forever"

It dawned on him he had always had a Targaryen Father, he had just never known it. Still, to him Lord Eddard had been his Father, learning the truth hadn't changed that.

"Indeed" King Aegon spoke then, "But there's no harm" He clapped Jon on the shoulder again, "But your Mother is right, do not lead her on Jon, that would be cruel"

He nodded then, smiled as Visenya smiled at him and then made his way down the stairs, and over to Sansa.

Few times in his life had he felt quite so disconcerted as he did now, especially as he approached Sansa, and stifled the urge to just take her hand, that was not the done thing here.

He hated it, hated the Southern manners, hated they had to follow it.

But he was once again glad Sansa had drilled some basic etiquette lessons into him, as had Maester Luwin, even if it was far more formal and pompous down South.

In the North it was about respect, here it just felt false.

"Lady Sansa" He offered, and he could see Sansa smile, though he could swear she was stifling a laugh, "Lord Tully" He said with a nod, "May I take your daughter for a walk?"

It rankled him he had to ask Lord Tully, in the North daughters were trusted to decide for themselves, but he knew here it was different; another thing to despise about the South.

"Of course, your Grace" Lord Tully offered, deferential, weird, Northerns respected him but never simpered to him, goddamn Southerners. Still the man seemed nice, which was something. "Sansa" He said nodding his head for her to go, and she nodded in return, offered two women who looked unsettlingly like Lady Catelyn a smile and then slipped her arm into his as he held it out.

It was only when they hurried out the Throne Room (and once again people fell silent to see them together did Jon speak, in a whisper).

"Gods that was odd" His shoulders sagging a touch, the pressure of keeping up an act slipping away from him with relief.

"It was" Sansa replied, sagging a touch too, though they both remained alert, they would have to here, always, "Now we need to figure out how to use it"

He nodded too, sweeping her out into the courtyard quickly, out of prying eyes way, they had much to discuss.

soooo thoughts?

I LOVED writing the court and we'll see much more of them, and answer some questions; are things different here? or was history written inaccurately? they do say history is written by the winners...

anywho, do tell me watcha think! I love your reviews. follow/fav for updates.

speak soon