authorsnote: we delve deeper into the south...

also anyone who feels the need to dm me or comment whining about the velaryons being black (like in HOD, a creative choice I, yes I, like as the WRITER have decided to carry over), can stop reading, miss me with that shit

but to everyone else do enjoy!

songrecs: I can't pretend - tom odell (also check out the brilliant YT video to this same music video by AnneSoshi if you're a jonsa fan!)

It took a good half an hour to convince Sansa to get on the back of Caraxes, he was just thankful his dragon was patient.

Eventually he'd just hoisted her over his shoulder, knowing Sansa could often get in her own way by getting too much into her own head, had stuck her on the saddle in front of him, whistled and held her tight as they took the skies.

He had, had the good sense not to laugh as she'd shrieked and threatened to murder him.

It had been a short flight, a swoop up and then back down as he urged Caraxes to the outcropping underneath the cliffs, a private area hidden by the walls and sound of the sea, an easy place for them to talk.

As he landed his dragon, because Caraxes was his now, he marvelled again at how easy it was, how he felt completely in-tune with the red dragon who happily settled down on one of the smaller cliffs, watching over them but at peace, in fact he seemed to settle down for a nap.

Jon knew Caraxes wouldn't hurt either of them, and would do as he commanded; sure, he still had some reading on dragon taming to do, and flying was a far thing from fighting in a battle on dragon-back, but it was just a shock how easy it had come to him, and how quickly.

He supposed he could thank his blood, though usually he was blaming it, for once he was thankful the blood of the dragon ran through his veins.

He needed it, and the bravery as Sansa hurried down from Caraxes and started yelling at him.

Again, he was just thankful he had the common sense not to laugh.

"Sansa, you're fine" He said, slightly indulgently, but managed to stifle any laughter, "We need somewhere we can talk, and Caraxes won't hurt you"

"How do you know?" She asked him, glaring, still storming for a fight.

"Would I ever let anything hurt you?" He asked, though felt something in him wilt a touch, that in some instances he hadn't been able to protect her.

Never again.

"No" Sansa said reluctantly, "But Jon how do you even know how to ride it?"

"Caraxes not it" He corrected her, feeling oddly protective of the slumbering red dragon already, though his tone was fond, and even a little teasing.

Truly his Targaryen heritage coming into play.

"Caraxes" She conceded, though Jon understood she wasn't as comfortable as him, he didn't know himself why he was so comfortable over than thanks to his blood, but he was. "How do you know how to ride Caraxes?"

He had much to learn, but his instincts were already present.

And Jon had learned, both from manning the Wall, and then leading it, to leading the North and being King of it, never to forget his instincts. They had kept him alive more than once and were to be trusted.

"Yes I do, and I just do" He said with a shrug, as he moved to sit on the sea wall, feet dangling down, he hated this Southern air, but it felt cooler by the sea, and he basked in the breeze, to take away the stifling heat, he smiled as Sansa joined him.

"But how?" She asked, eyebrow raised as they both sat back, comfortable, finally alone, the sound of the sea meant they didn't have to watch their words, and that was a relief. The stress seemed to roll off of both their shoulders, the tension leaving them for the first time since they'd arrived.

For a moment it was just them, resting back, shoulders brushing, words not needing to be hidden or coded, just Jon and Sansa able to talk.

It was nice, it was needed.

"My heritage I guess?" He said, for Jon didn't know, all he knew was that he'd stepped onto Caraxes it had felt right, it had felt natural, and again his instincts had told him he was doing the right thing, which he had to trust.

"Hmmm" Sansa said, seemingly unconvinced, "Promise me you'll be careful?"

"Aren't I always" He teased and laughed as Sansa rolled her eyes, but he nodded, knowing she'd worry if he didn't.

He could brood better than the rest of them, but Sansa was a worrier herself, he hated that she was, and always tried to help to soothe those worry lines away, but they'd never truly disappear.

Not after what she'd seen, not after what had been done to her.

Anger roared in his chest as it always did to think of the injustices Sansa had faced, once, when first reunited it had consumed him, now he had a handle on it … almost, he had to though, to ensure he could protect her properly.

And protect her he would, until his dying breath. Being in Kings Landing, being a Prince and her a Lady of House Tully, did not change that.

"So…" He began, but managed a strained smile, "All of this"

"I know" Sansa said with a nod, "I don't know how it happened, or even why, but I think we just have to focus on the fact it did and how to deal with it"

"I agree" Jon said, relieved for he did, Sansa had never been philosophical, and he was thankful she was being practical now, there wasn't really time for anything else.

When they had figured out a way to stay together, when they had figured out the dynamics and the politics here and how to be safe, then they could debate the whys and how's, then they could think of the Gods and what decisions they had made and why, then they could finally process what had happened, what Jon had done.

How he hadn't let the Others take her.

It flashed over his mind for a moment, taking Longclaw, his beloved sword, thrusting it through Sansa's heart, striking the killing blow to the person left in this world he cared for the most.

He didn't regret it.

How could he when the alternative would have been a blow from the Others? Or from the Wights ripping her apart? No, she had asked, wanted that fate spared, he would have wanted the same.

"Jon?" Her voice, Sansa's voice interrupted his thoughts, pulling him back to before, a place he didn't have time to go. They hadn't processed what had happened, hadn't mourned their former lives, hadn't for even a minute stopped to think on it, but they couldn't, they had to be practical, had to put aside emotion and had to think on the now.

The now was staying strong, staying safe, and staying together.

"I'm here" He said, running a hand through his hair and managing a smile, strained as it was, "I'm here"

"I know" Sansa said with a smile, kind and gentle, for she'd never lost all of that, even as the world had tried to consume it, she'd retained some. But then her gaze turned, and she nodded, slipping her hand in his for comfort, but there were more important things. "Tell me about your day"

This wasn't the solar in Winterfell, his solar, this wasn't exchanging pleasantries or even unloading after a difficult day, this was warfare, this was tactics, this was battle planning, and so he nodded, and began.

An hour later, with the sun high in the sky, the waves rolling close to the rock, the bottom of her delicate slippers wet with sea water, did she lean back, lying down on the sandstone, for a moment forgetting her fear of the dragon, Jons dragon nearby, and let out a sigh.

A sigh as Jon had finished his tale of his day, and not in a 'let me meander through a typical day' but rather, 'here are the revelations, challenges and difficulties I have to share', all that needed to be solved before days end.

There wasn't enough time, never enough time, but here it felt faster, as though slipping through her fingers like sand.

"How was your day?" Jon asked, interrupting her musings about time, and how there never seemed to be enough.

"Much duller than yours" She said, which was true, wouldn't admit she was a touch jealous Jon got to be strategizing and planning whilst she had basically spent the day either walking through the Castle courtyard and gardens (which she'd tried to turn into a 'figuring out the layout' but in truth had been her almost falling asleep under an apple tree), or sewing with her Aunts, whilst they gossiped about Southern ladies whose names she did not recognise.

Dull.

But she knew she had to recognise her role here had changed, in the North she had been the closest thing to a Queen they had, had, she had been part of things, part of the decisions. Here she was just a Southern Lady, a Tully, and not significant in the political scheme of things.

She also forced herself to acknowledge that the South was far more restricting to women than the North, even with two Queens here, women were rarely invited around the war table.

Though she smiled to herself as Jon asked her to elaborate, she supposed this was their version of the war table, the two of them hiding in a secret spot they'd found, trading days, trading plans and strategies. That made her feel better.

That and just being in Jon's presence made her feel more at ease.

She did not like to be parted from him.

That she could acknowledge, to the extent perhaps not … not yet at least.

"No, yours was far more interesting and we need to plan" Sansa said rolling her head back, she missed the cold from the North, more suited to it, but some sunlight on her face was nice, tinging her pale cheeks pink as she soaked it in, getting used to it.

She wondered now they'd gone back if she would ever see the North again, she hoped so.

"You woke up with purple eyes, sat in on a small council meeting and apparently your Aunt plans to marry you off" She said with a teasing edge to her tone, though there was something in there, something hard but barely recognisable, "I just sat around sewing and acquainting myself with how comfortable the grass in the small garden orchard is" She said with a cheeky grin to which Jon laughed.

That made her smile in turn, making Jon laugh always made her feel warm, to get someone so serious to smile and joke, the fact it was Jon, and he could use a smile every now and then made it even the more perfect.

Though … looking at him now, the sun shining down on him, dressed in all black again … those eyes, they were hard to take in.

She wasn't sure and it was likely the sun, but she could have sworn they had gotten more violet as the day had gone. Whereas that morning they had been violet but almost with a hint of grey (or perhaps she was just telling herself that), now they were nothing but a brilliant purple.

A little frown marred her features then, she missed Jon's grey eyes; Stark eyes.

"Don't" Jon said with a shake of his head, flopping back to lie down, head on the sandstone, "I've got dinner with the Velaryons within the next few hours" He said with a shake of his head. "What will you be doing?"

"Dinner with the Tully family" Sansa said, "Again much duller" It was the truth, a little mean spirited perhaps as the Tully's had been kind to her, but like any Southern family they were ambitious and a little too focused on Power, rather than the Family, Duty, Honour, her own Mother had installed in her.

She had left out to Jon, the half hour they'd spent grilling her on 'the Princes activities with her', though her cheeks rose in blush as she thought about it. She'd blushed the same when they'd asked her.

"How do you think the dinner will go?" Sansa asked, even as she knew it was time for them to head back, an hour snatched away for the both of them would have to be enough, even though it didn't feel like it was.

"I don't know" Jon said with a furrowed brow, "Dinners and breakfasts and everything seems seeped in politics here" He sounded frustrated and Sansa felt some pity for him, he hadn't experienced the South before, how everyone lied, how everyone had some agenda or motive, how nothing on the face of it was true.

'We're all liars here'

Weren't they indeed.

She'd lived through that, had suffered that, she was glad Jon hadn't, but knew he'd need to adjust. He was no fool at politics, a diplomat, and a tactician, but he'd need to adjust to understanding the South was a snake pit and relaxing for even a second would get one bitten.

She didn't say that though, Jon was no fool, he knew the stakes, he knew how dangerous it was here, he knew to protect himself.

But that didn't mean she couldn't protect him too.

"Just be guarded" She offered as advice, "But be open with your family" Sansa felt a pang then, she had seen the way Jon had looked at his so-called Mother here, the longing he had for one, and when she looked at him and his purple eyes it was hard, difficult when she wanted to loudly proclaim he was a Stark and not a Targaryen, that she was his family not them.

But then both sides were true, she was his family, but here he had to at least act as though the Targaryen's were, and in a way, they were, just as much ancestor to him as the Tully's were to her.

Something she had to adjust to.

"Aye" He said and nodded before she saw him force himself to stand, holding out a hand for her that she gladly took, though she blanched as she realised there was only one way back.

"I'm not getting on that … Caraxes" She offered, Targaryen's and their dragons she thought with a roll of her eyes, so sensitive, though fear tempered her sarcasm. The flight hadn't been too bad, and she didn't mind heights, but she was not made to be on dragon back.

Jon was apparently, and that scared her even more.

At that Jon just laughed, and for once it didn't make her smile as he laughed and laughed, and she stomped after him with a glare.

An hour and a half later and Jon wished to be back on the sandstone, on the edge of the tide, Sansa next to him looking as relaxed as he could remember; the sun suited her, and he missed seeing her in it, missed being able to hide away with her.

As opposed to being at a dinner table surrounded by people he didn't know, with intentions he wasn't aware of, and motives he needed to be wary of.

He hadn't needed Sansa's advice, but he took it and internalised it alongside his own thoughts; be guarded, be cautious, but don't be cause for suspicion.

Easier said than done.

As the starters were placed in front of him Jon hoped to consume himself with eating, sat next to his Mother (who he didn't mind conversing with and had busied himself doing so about training practice), but instead he was interrupted by his Aunt, who sat opposite on his Fathers left side, his Mother on the right. And his Aunt had a gleam in her eye.

It was tricky thinking of Targaryen's as direct relatives, but he wondered if he should worry about how easy it was becoming, particularly for Visenya, his Mother here.

It didn't take a genius to understand why, but Jon had other things to analyse as his Aunt spoke with mischief in her gaze.

"So, Jon, you remember Alyssa and Elena? You used to play together as children" His Aunt said, and he had to smother the urge to glare at her, apparently that was impolite down South, as his Mother had said with a nudge of her elbow as he'd walked in.

He was too impolite for the South, he had no time for Southern courtesies, but as soon as he had that thought, he practically heard Sansa's admonishment in his ears that he'd have to make time as they were in the South now, and as a Prince, brooding or not, he'd be expected to be social.

Perish the thought.

"No, can't say I do" He said, which was true in itself, he didn't recognise any of the Velaryons, he knew them of course from the histories (and some quick reading Sansa had insisted he do whilst she picked him out clothes for this encounter, he having smuggled her back to his rooms, where she waited him now), that Alyssa and Elena were the children of Aethan Velaryon and Alarra Massey, and in the time he and Sansa had left Alyssa, had ended up marrying Aenys Targaryen, his Father and Aunts child who did not seem to exist in this time, perhaps he'd supplanted him? Another thought for another time.

Further, Elena hadn't existed in the original time he and Sansa had come from, or perhaps had and had been unmentioned, but regardless, they were Velaryon women, the same age as him roughly, and he knew the Targaryen's and Velaryons often intermarried to keep Valyrian blood pure, and so he knew what his Aunt was getting at.

Knew it was trouble.

Especially, as both Alyssa and Elena, as well as being his age and personable and polite, were both exceptionally beautiful, with Valyrian shocking white hair, large purple eyes, dark skin, and cheeky smiles by the looks. Very beautiful, Alyssa even more so, not that, that mattered, but it would be a lie to say he hadn't noticed it.

"Well, perhaps you can get better acquainted now" His Aunt teased, and he just nodded, he felt saying less would work better for him here, rather than to bluntly put he did not plan on marrying anyone.

He never had before, didn't now, there were far more important things at hand.

But he also acknowledged what Sansa had mused, a hard edge to her voice he didn't understand as she had picked him out the black breeches and black tunic with red threading at the collar he wore now, 'You'll as a Prince be expected to marry, we'll have to think of a way around it but it will be difficult'.

And she'd been in the right of it, even as King in the North he'd faced pressure that way, had successfully held it off but had, had several Northern girls near thrown at him during feasts, Sansa had always stepped in thankfully, but he couldn't hide behind her skirts now.

And wouldn't admit how much he wished to.

"Jon is still young sister" His Mother said, and he near thanked her for the reprieve, "He has time" She offered a sharp smile then, "I'm afraid Jon much prefers being in the training yard or on Caraxes to courting" She teased too, and he would have rolled his eyes were he not so certain he'd get a smack in response.

"Well, I love to ride my dragon Seasure" Elena spoke then, she was the younger of the sisters but the fierier, and the dragonrider apparently.

"Perhaps you can go riding together Jon?" His Aunt suggested and that time he did shoot her a small glare to which she offered him a grin in return, knowing exactly what she was doing. It was only his fondness for her that stopped him levelling the glare harder.

Fuck, he hated the South.

"Do you have a dragon Alyssa?" Jon asked, knowing he'd need to make some conversation, and a touch wary of the way Elena was looking at him with a grin, like she'd very much like to go riding with him, perhaps in more ways than one, Alyssa was the quieter of the two, and marginally more pretty, though it was a close run thing.

"Oh no" Alyssa said, and Jon near winced, yes, he was terrible at courting, or even making conversation with women, once of the many reasons he hated it, "But I do love to sail"

"Great" He said, and winced again, even he could hear how bad he was at this, and noted his Father smothering a laugh behind his hand at his so-called sons misfortune.

"We do need another marriage in the family" His Aunt said then, musing now it seemed, rather than teasing, as the starters were replaced with the main course, which Jon dug into as an excuse again not to talk, he refused wine though, as did his Father he noted, and just as Jon had his sword propped at his side even at dinner, his Father had Blackfyre, his Mother, Dark Sister, which made him smile. "Both for the people and for stability"

"True, a marriage always sates the people, and we could need to further the line of heirs" His Mother said then, and Jon turned to her with a look of betrayal which she ignored, "Perhaps Jon and Alyssa?"

If Sansa hadn't warned him about this, about how this was how marriages were done in the South, how courting was sometimes bypassed completely he'd have protested loudly. Instead, the shock showed on his face, and as he swallowed his food, not going for another bite this time, he could Alyssa did not look surprised in the slightest, which saddened him, that this was given to her, that this would happen.

Sure, in the North they paired matches and family ties, but it was much less ruthless, if a woman protested a match it was listened to, and few Northern families would marry their children under duress.

Here he was not so lucky.

It felt wrong, to be bartered like this, to have no say, worse though for Alyssa, what if he were an evil man? A man who'd be unfaithful, or would beat or hurt her? She had no say, and he could see that bothered Elena too, annoyance flashed in her gaze, but not at being passed over, but at her sisters bowed head and acceptance, that she had no choice.

Few people in this world did, Jon knew that, but it didn't mean he accepted it.

He never would accept such injustice.

Something close to panic began to crawl over him as he blocked out the back and forth between his Mother, his Aunt, his Father, of Aethan and Alarra Velaryon (though all he could hear was agreeing), what did he do?! He couldn't be betrothed.

Any betrothal was not only something he didn't want, but it would be harder to sneak around, harder to keep the secrets of why he was here, harder to see Sansa.

And then, like a bolt of lightning, the answer that should have been obvious all along came to him.

Came to him and without hesitation (which also should have told him something), he took it.

"As much as I would be honoured" Jon said, interrupting the bartering over the table, knowing he needed to cut it off before it blossomed. It was a risk, the answer that had come to him and he now grasped to, but no bigger risk than being betrothed to a woman he didn't know, when he had far bigger plans than anyone around this table knew or could know.

He weighed the risk, as he had so many times before, and knew what he had to do.

"I regret I cannot join our families once more" He knew Sansa would be proud of how diplomatic he sounded, knew she might not be so happy when he revealed what answer he'd come up with, but it was her face he thought of when he spoke, knowing this answer wouldn't just spare him, but would spare her from going back to the Riverlands to.

"But I am already betrothed" He said with a nod of his head, and he caught Alyssa's head rise and felt better for that, he hoped a good man would marry her, one she chose, not one forced on her.

"What?" His Mother said then, and he had known Visenya Targaryen was not one to be trifled with, and was just glad he was her son, as her purple eyes, a copy of his now, flashed with anger, "What do you mean son? Do not jest with me"

"I'm not" He said, as he glanced at his Aunt who gasped, and had clearly gotten the picture before anyone else.

"Jon speak true" His Father said then, though imaging the legendary Aegon Targaryen as his Father was the hardest to reconcile in his mind, perhaps because he was legend, perhaps because he had, had a Father in Eddard Stark, "We have not betrothed you"

"No" He said, and he felt nervous then, nervous for this gamble, even as he knew he had no other choice, "But I've fallen in love" Perhaps that was too much, but he knew what he was about to say had to have an explanation, and that was the best he had, "And so I've asked the object of that love to marry me, and she said yes"

"Who?" His Mother asked then, looking at her son and only him, not happy, not in the slightest, "Who have you promised yourself to without consulting us first?"

There was really only one name, and though he couldn't see it, all around the table saw the way his shoulders lifted, and he managed just a hint of a smile as he spoke it.

"Sansa Tully"

And the die had been cast.

dum dum dum

lol, I love jons big revelation is something ya'll realised he should do like 6 chapters ago, but aye jon is too pure

or is he? waggle, waggle ... we shall see

do enjoy, do review!