authorsnotes: sorry for the delay but I basically came up with something and had to rewrite the whole chapter so here we go.

do enjoy, do review.

songrecs: like I'm gonna lose you - jasmine thompson (best version)

It was a long road to White Harbour, and yet somehow the miles flew by.

Sansa knew she was perceiving it strangely, so desperate to drag out being in the North longer, that time or perhaps the Gods mocked her and made it all seem to go by so quickly, because it felt as though she'd blinked, and she was in White Harbour.

Another blink and the Manderlys were escorting them onto a ship, deferential to Jon, as Lord Manderly had been one of the first to call Jon King, Sansa offered them an extra thanks, as they ensured the boat was stocked with provisions, and added 10 Manderly guards to their numbers, even reassured them a second boat would sail behind, hiding back, to ensure the safe journey.

It made Sansa smile, to see Jon treated as he ought to be, as she'd fought him to be; a King.

The ship was outfitted well, and then it felt like she'd barely glanced around it before the anchor was pulled up, they pushed away from land and were out on the open seas, suddenly surrounded by blue in every direction.

Time was definitely mocking her.

Where had the hours gone? The road had flown under the hooves of their horses, the nights in the tents on the side of the Kings Road dashed past, as though she settled down for sleep and it was the next night already. Where had her time with Jon gone? It felt as though they'd barely spoken. How had the hours disappeared?

Definitely mocking.

Still, she knew there was one benefit, the quicker they went South, the quicker they could return home, to the North.

The North was her home, even more so now her family were back.

'There will always be a Stark in Winterfell' A creed of their house, and even with she and Jon going it remained true. Their Father was in charge, Lord Stark of Winterfell once more, slipping back into the role with ease, and yet he respected Jon, acknowledging him as King, it was something Sansa both admired and felt slightly exasperated at her Father for, his respect for not being the King was a great indication of his honour, but his lack of ambition his downfall.

Sansa knew in the time since she'd last seen him her ambition had grown, her desire for an independent North growing in her like a weed one could not stamp out. She didn't care if it took war, scheming, murder, the North would be independent.

They would not bend, not ever again.

Still, they had left Winterfell in good hands. Robb had busied himself with overseeing the defences, she had left the glass gardens project with her Mother, and Father was overseeing the shoring up of supplies. She knew they'd return to a well ran Winterfell, with the North in coordination.

It was nice not to have to worry about what they'd come back to, only to worry about what they were facing.

But she reassured herself as the ship pushed away from land, onto the open seas, Jon offering her a smile before he turned to his men to see about getting their provisions unpacked, the quicker the trip went, the quicker they'd be home.

Home.

Once she'd thought that to be the South, what an idiot she'd been. The North was her home, Jon was her home, and that wouldn't change, no matter what happened in the South.

She was thankful she was not seasick.

For miles and miles it was just glittering ocean, the endless stretch of sea in every direction. Once or twice, they passed land in the far distance, the Sister Islands as Sansa noted or a chunk of the Vale, otherwise it was just the blue sea, their companion for miles and miles.

Jon fared the same as her, both of them not bothered by the sway of the waves. Northerners were a hardy people after all, it took more than a little rocking to unseat them.

Which was a good thing, as the journey wasn't just to take a pleasant boat ride, it wasn't even to just get to Dragonstone, from A to B, no, it was to talk strategy.

And for Sansa it was wonderful.

For the past weeks Sansa had been worrying constantly about feeling disconnected from Jon, about him not needing her now the other Starks had returned, about pushing her aside for a Queen to take her place. She knew it was stupid and even unfair to Jon, but those had been the thoughts creeping in her mind, like vines rapping around her sensible thoughts and turning them cold.

But now? Just the two of them? Together again? It was perfect.

Of course Sansa had missed her family, and was overjoyed to have them back, had even lingered in pulling them each close for a hug before leaving, particularly squeezing her Father so tightly he'd near groaned, she was delighted to be with them again.

But it took some getting used to.

For so long it had just been her and Jon, her and Jon alone, for weeks it had been just the two of them, heads bent in discussion, her arm tucked through his, Ghost at her feet as they sat in front of the fire. Then it had all changed.

Now things felt more normal, and Sansa hated herself for feeling that way, the guilt near choking her up, though she tried to remind herself she was thankful for her family to be home, she was just adjusting to it.

But the boat ride felt like a reprieve, Jon next to her at the table, Ghost at her feet. Lady had remained in Winterfell. The wolves had returned to them the same size as they'd been when they'd perished, and so next to Ghost, Lady was practically miniature, and so she'd remained behind, actually attached to Grey Winds hip, quite happy not to have to go on a long journey with all that fuss.

She had even accepted Sansa's crushing hug and far too many kisses as they'd left with a good grace before trotting away for a good nap, quite pleased to just relax.

Sansa sometimes wished she felt the same.

Relaxation wasn't an option for her, hasn't been for years and who knew when it would be again? For years and, for years to come most likely she'd been in a state of constant vigilance, only moments with Jon and now around her family saw her ease a touch, but never fully.

Perhaps when the Others were defeated, when Cersei Lannister's head was on a pike and the North remained independent, she'd relax so much she'd fall asleep.

Perhaps.

For now there was planning to do, sleep could come later.

It was on the 3rd morning, when they'd slept, dressed, and Sansa had dismissed her handmaid, happy to leave her long red locks down, the sea air untangling any style anyway, did they meet in the captain's cabin, the man happy to hand it over as he sailed, and they used the large table for strategizing.

Most of what would be Jon's (ours, he insisted) small council remained in Winterfell, going South to treat with the Dragon Queen was important but preparing the North for war more so, and so most had stayed behind to support their family to do that, here they had limited numbers, also as a contingent in case the Dragon Queen roasted them all, better to keep the talent in the North for the wars to come.

Not that any of them said that, but they all thought it.

And so, she and Jon stood at the head of the table, heads bent slightly together, not even realising they were doing so.

Brienne stood a pace or two behind her, her ever silent guard, Pod remained in Winterfell. Jon insisted he needed no guard, Longclaw at his hip and non a better swordsman than him, but still two Winterfell guards stood either side of him, Tormund refusing to go South, saying Winterfell was already too warm for his blood. Ghost stood between them both.

Davos Seaworth Jon's hand, a good man, true and fair, stood opposite them, his council always welcomed.

That made up their party, small, select, surrounded by guards of course, but they needed no more. They came with a request and would return home with a yes or no answer, Sansa didn't see why they'd need to stay longer than a week; or at least she hoped they wouldn't.

But then what were hopes, but to be ready for disappointment.

"Shall we start?" Davos spoke, gruffly, and Sansa nodded, Jon too, they would arrive at Dragonstone within the week, it was important to be prepared.

"Yes" Sansa began and Jon nodded, that was the dynamic they had, Jon would never call her out in public, as she wouldn't him, and they had their own way of communicating, in giving way to the other, in ensuring their leadership ran smoothly.

"You're the leader Jon" Sansa had said one evening, after Jon had apologised for cutting something she'd been saying off, not that she'd minded, Jon was never rude, passionate but never rude. "You don't have to take my lead"

"We're the leaders" He insisted back, "I'm here because of you more than anyone"

"You're the King" She said, and every hint of her tone was infused with believing her words, as she did, more than she believed anything.

For a while she had been done with the Gods, Jon had been what she believed in.

"Aye" He said, "And you're as close to we have as a Queen, and so you'll be treated like one"

She'd tried to ignore the awful longing to be the Queen, as once had been her greatest ambition, now it was only possible one or two ways, and she crushed the way that seemed more possible to here, for them…

They had their own way of ruling, of nodding, giving way, one picking up a subject from the other, and here was the same. Jon gave way to her here, and she warmed, the trust they had for one another was more than any other.

"We need to ensure Jon is presented properly" She began, hating the courtesies of the South, for she'd hidden behind them for so long, but she saw and knew their value, more than anyone.

"Nothing big" Jon said with an expression of distaste, "I'm a Northern King not some Southerner"

Sansa nodded at that, "Of course, just one of the guards should stop, announce your titles, your position" She said with a smile, knowing Jon wouldn't accept anything more.

"Then I'll present you?" Jon asked, and Sansa near laughed, clueless here, hence why he'd let her take the lead, this wasn't important to Jon, she wished it didn't have to be to her.

"No, the guard will then present me" Sansa said, "And then Ser Davos" She said with a nod, "And then we'll begin"

"She'll present herself first" Davos said, he seemed more Northerner than Southerner, never concerned with the fripperies either, he was in good accord with them in that regard, but he like Sansa knew how important it was to do such things in the South.

"Yes" Sansa said, "As is the way"

"And from self-importance" Davos scoffed, and Sansa nodded in agreement.

"Let's give her a fair go" Jon said, but he too looked doubtful, they all remembered the letter she'd sent them initially, all squawking about 'her rightful Throne' and the North being part of 'her Kingdom', how she had 'summoned them'. The Northerners had all sneered at her presumption, they wouldn't bend, not again.

Not ever.

"Okay so that's the entrance" Sansa said, moving things along, shooting Jon an annoyed glance, she knew he was right, but she didn't trust the Dragon Queen, and didn't want Jon to trust her either, she was the enemy.

The Starks were always too trusting, too honourable, in a way she loved them for it, but also despised it. It was what had got them killed the first time, their home lost, gone, the pack scattered. Even now she could see it in them, hints of it in Jon, but not her.

Honour was important to the Northern culture, and she respected it, but she had no issue casting it aside, when need be, she knew Jon thought so to, but struggled with the morals of it. She'd do it or them if she could, she'd never let honour kill her family again.

"And then we lay out why we've come" Jon said, and Sansa nodded, they all wanted to get to the point here, no unnecessary waiting, then they could come home, "And go from there"

"Right" Davos said, "What if she threatens to kill us?"

"She will" Sansa said, "But she won't do it"

"Why not?" Davos shot back.

"She's trying to win the land, not murder its rulers" Sansa said with a shake of her head.

"What about her Father? What if she's like him? I don't like it" Jon flinched at Davos' words then, his Grandfather. It was then she took his hand in hers, squeezed it tightly, brushing her fingers over his knuckles.

"She can't threaten us like that" Sansa said, "We have the might of the North, and she can't invade, unless she plans to kill us all"

"We have to focus" Jon interjected, face stoic now, "We have higher priorities"

"You could kill her"

They all jumped then, taken back by a voice emerging from the far end of the table, Sansa clutched a hand to her chest in surprise, Jon, Brienne, and Davos had gone for their swords, and Jon had even pushed her back, behind him.

And yet it was no threat, only there stood Arya, needle at her hip, head cocked, looking almost innocent, like she had as a child (as she still was), but also deadly, knowing what she'd learned, and her words, so casual and yet so full of murderous intent.

"Arya" Sansa said in a gasp, realising she sounded like the shrill older sister she turned to Jon who had sheathed his sword now and was almost laughing, Arya with a cheeky grin too.

"Arya underfoot" He said under his breath with a shake of his head, but as Sansa glared at him he laughed again, "What are we going to do with you?"

"You're not supposed to be here" He could only laugh as Sansa near hissed at her little sister, almost like they were 12 and 10 again, sisters as rivals. He knew he should step in, back Sansa up, but he could only smile.

'We never should have left Winterfell…' How true that had been.

"Jon thinks its funny" Arya said cheekily, changed she may be, but she still had that cheeky smile, though he smiled, Sansa only rolled her eyes.

"I don't know why I bother" Sansa said, but he could tell she was not truly angry.

They were like that, the two of them, they could see to the true emotions they each held, how they actually felt, what they were actually feeling. They couldn't lie to one another in that regard, too clued into the true emotions they each held.

It had its uses, rarely its issues.

"Why are you here?" Jon asked, he'd pulled Sansa and Arya inside, leaving Davos to talk to Brienne and the other gathered soldiers, though Davos looked ready to laugh as well, he kept his composure, somehow. Jon didn't bother asking how she'd got on board; it wasn't hard to see how easily she could have slipped below deck.

"I thought you'd need the backup" Arya said with a shrug, as though it were obvious, to her it was.

"We have guards" Sansa said, exasperated.

"You need better ones" Arya said in response.

"Our men are good" Jon insisted, they were, he'd made sure of it.

"Sure" Arya shrugged again, unbothered, "But they aren't like me"

"And what does that mean?" Sansa asked, eyebrow raised.

"I'm not going to reveal myself to the Dragon Queen, I'll stay in the shadows on Dragonstone, in case there's a problem" Arya said with a little nod.

Jon sighed; it made sense in some ways, and he knew could be a diplomatic disaster if she got caught. Jon knew she was quick, little Arya underfoot, fast, and deadly, but quick enough?

"Hmm" Sansa said then, and he looked at her a touch surprised, Sansa saw the merit in this? He'd expected her to protest, like he was near to doing.

"Only if you stay out of view" Sansa insisted, "And if there's trouble you run back North, the Manderlys sent a second ship to stay docked in case of problems, so you run to them and send word home"

"No" Arya shook her head then, "I'll stop any trouble"

"No" Sansa fired back immediately, "That's not how we do things"

"Not how you do things" Arya insisted, and Jon knew it was time to step in.

"Not how we do things, Sansa's right" Jon said, and he saw Arya deflate a little, she rarely listened to Sansa, but she'd listen to Jon, "Better that you run and alert our men" He nodded, because they were their men, Stark men … well Sansa and Arya's, were they his?

He tried to shrug that aside, there could not be a worse time for self-doubt, right now he had to focus, any identity crisis could wait.

"But-"Arya began and Jon cut her off, better to do that with Arya, stubborn as she was, then let her run away with a bad idea.

"You can be our canary in the coal mine" He said with a nod, it was a good idea, "If there's one hint of the Dragon Queen trying to keep us on Dragonstone or sending anything North you can run back and call the alarm"

"Yes" Sansa said with a nod, catching on, "You can do what we can't, leave swiftly and call to action if needed"

Arya glared at them a touch, and then relaxed, nodded, there, fight avoided, she could see the merit in their idea.

"I don't want her to hurt you" Her sincerity made Jon smile, and he could see Sansa do the same, even reach out and take her sisters hand. "Either of you"

"We all have our part to play" Sansa said, wise beyond her years, "Ours is diplomacy, we will be fine"

"Promise?" She asked, and she seemed so like his little sister then, young, and scrappy, a child, he near wanted to march her home. Part of him felt that protective streak, as he did over Sansa, to send them both packing, back home to where they'd be safe, but he knew he couldn't.

Sansa was a leader next to him in her own right, she'd earned and fought for her place here.

And Arya could be their secret weapon, and though not quite grown yet she had seen far more than men three times her age.

He had to keep them safe, it was his job, but not at detriment to their freedom or them helping him, he knew that, even as his protective instincts screamed the opposite.

'The lone wolf dies –

But the pack survives'

"I can't promise that Arya" He raised an eyebrow at Sansa's honesty and felt something like a sad pang in his heart, many had stolen promises from her, he hated now she couldn't make them.

One day she would, he'd make sure one day she felt safe enough to make promises she believed she could keep.

He made a promise, had from the second they'd reunited;

Protect Sansa.

Maybe more than a promise, a vow.

One he would never willingly break.

"But I can promise this is the right way" Sansa said with a nod, glanced at Jon who nodded too.

"We need her" Jon admitted, they did, What fought ice? "So we have to play diplomacy, it may not work but we have to try"

"We have to try" Sansa repeated, her vow, "It is to protect the North"

"I want to protect the North" Arya insisted, and he saw Sansa squeeze her hand, and then hold her other out for him, he took it without hesitation.

"You will" He said with a nod, "You're our backup"

"Our safety" Sansa said with a smile, and a nod, she was far better at this than him, he was a fighter more than a diplomat, a sword would always be more comfortable in his hand than a glass of wine during negotiations, but he knew he had to do it, had to be good at it.

'We all like what we're good at'

'I don't'

Did he?

"Trust me" Jon said, "Both of you" He looked at Arya, and then turned his gaze to Sansa, "We need her help, but we do this our way, we won't beg or scrape, we won't let her hold us hostage"

"We are Starks" Arya piped up then, and her complete belief that he was included in that made him feel warm, he had a family, regardless of last name.

"The lone wolf dies" Sansa began.

"But the pack survives" Arya finished, and then they shared a smile, sisters.

"And winter is coming" Jon said, and they all nodded, it was, and it was theirs to fight.

STARK POWER

sooo thoughts?

I am unapologetically a stark stan, I will always stan them, I will always champion them, thats the reality.

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speak soon(er)