authorsnotes: sorry this took me a hot minute, I was really stuck with how I wanted this to go, but then it (and TTPD, thank god), hit me, so here we go!

do enjoy, do listen to the new taylor swift album, it is all I am and will be listening to whilst writing for probably the next 2-3 ... years

songrecs: chloe or sam or sophia or marcus - taylor swift (if you wanna tear my world apart, just say you've always wondeeeeeeeeeeeeeered)

For moment her newly emerged, confusing, and painful feelings were not her priority, as Jon stepped into the tent, and she could see he was different.

"Your eyes" She said in something close to confusion, but with a hint of awe and fear, as any kind of propriety, of her dressed in a nightgown, her cloak falling open to reveal the snow-white linen was forgotten as she hurried to face Jon, the man she'd just realized she might love, and definitely wanted to marry, had somehow changed his eye color since she had seen him not more than a few hours earlier.

"They are purple" She gasped, and her hands found his face without even thinking about it, cupping his cheeks, her thumbs smoothing sideways over his cheekbones, as she looked into those Targaryen eyes. They'd once been grey, now they were purple, Targaryen purple, and somehow …

Somehow as much as she hated it, they looked not one inch out of place.

He looked like Jon, purple eyed, but still Jon, if anything the purple fitted his face more, made him look as dazzling and as wondrous as he should be. This was Jon, her Jon yes, but looking how he might have looked, how he should have.

"I know" He said, looking into her eyes now, her Tully blue meeting his Targaryen purple. Did he see the love reflected there? Did he realise the world-shattering revelation she'd had minutes before he'd come in?

Right now, like a coward, she truly hoped not.

For, she knew she needed to say something; did she? She thought of his embrace with the Dragon Queen, the horrid, awful, bubbling of jealousy in her gut. Was that what would happen if she kept quiet? Would Jon not marry a Northern girl after all but marry the Southern Queen? Two Targaryens joined together?

The fear of that bloomed in her chest and near brought her to her knees.

Would Jon leave not just her, and whatever friendship they currently had, but also the North?

Would he leave her?

But what if she did speak up? Tell him, this wasn't just political, the idea of it, this was her heart, the heart she'd guarded for so long, so terrified to ever commit it. She'd kept it locked behind bars, walls of ice, never letting it even peak out, and yet that wasn't true. It had emerged against her will, crept out and fallen right into Jon's lap, and he didn't even know it, she hadn't until moments earlier.

It was his now, could she keep that from him? They usually didn't keep anything from each other, but the idea of telling him, the idea of him rejecting her, maybe even looking at her in horror, for they'd been siblings until weeks earlier, would he be disgusted with her? The idea of that reaction, or of letting her down gently, their friendship dashed over the rocks and ruined, that made her feel like she might be sick.

Their friendship, would it be ruined? The relationship she valued above all else, that was so so important, could she risk that?

Or could she risk him ending up with someone else? Someone who would be his Queen over her? A Northern girl, or worse the Dragon Queen herself?

"How?" She asked, trying to focus on the here and now, on the present, not her own crumbling thoughts and feelings, right now Jon needed her here, he looked understandably shaken, and he needed her full attention, not half of it dragged away on her fear and paranoia.

"I don't know" He said, his voice gruff. He made no move to escape her embrace, but she dropped her hands, at least to hold at his shoulders, tightening her grip a touch as she met that purple gaze, saw something glint there, he was truly a Targaryen, not a Stark.

Once that would have made her sad, now she could admit it flooded her with relief.

"Well what happened? All of it?" She asked, and then, forcing herself to focus she dragged Jon to sit down, and began to fuss about making tea, waving her hand for him to carry on, but he didn't speak a word until she'd made them both a cup and he moved over to make room for her, she sat down next to him, knee to knee.

Would she have noticed that before? The brush of his thumb as he took the cup from her, his knee against hers, the glance at her before he spoke. Would she have? Had she been fooling herself this entire time? Her heart ached.

"I rode Rhaegal" Jon said, straight to the point as always, which she loved about him. No flowery words, no unnecessarily embellishments, just the truth. "And it was … it was so…"

"Difficult?" She asked, for she couldn't imagine it, near shuddered at the thought, to be so high up, able to be thrown off, on the back of a temperamental creature no one really understood.

"No it was easy" Jon said with a sigh, as though a little ashamed of that, but he nodded, she smiled as Ghost trotted over and nuzzled his Masters hand, as though to remind him he had more than one companion, Jon even managed a smile then too as he petted his loyal beast, Ghost of course happily accepted before settling at Sansa's feet, just as he had since she'd returned.

"Easy?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, sipped her tea, and for once wished for something stronger. Jon seemed to think the same as he reached behind them for some Northern spirits, splashed some in his tea and without hesitation some in hers as she held out her cup. The sting and the burn was good, was useful, stopped her gaze lingering on Jon for too long as he spoke.

"And then my eyes turned I guess" He said with a shake of his head, "But I don't really know why or when that happened" He admitted, another sip, and the burn continued, "But then Daenerys found me, saw them, and realized who I was"

She should have been concerned the Dragon Queen had unmasked who Jon was, be worried and plotting to get them out of here, because surely she must think him a threat to the line of succession? He was, a direct threat, his claim better than hers, that was where her mind should have gone.

And yet, all she heard was 'Daenerys', Jon calling her by her name, Sansa had seen the hug, but her stomach felt cold and she forced down another gulp of tea, wincing at the sting, what had happened between them? The jealousy reared up, aching and burning her chest. 'Daenerys'. If Sansa hadn't hated her before, she did now.

"Go on" She said and she knew her tone sounded clipped, Jon raised an eyebrow but carried on, filling them both back up with a splash of alcohol.

"She realized, and she was happy about it I think" He said with a shrug before drinking deep, Sansa copied, she didn't flinch this time.

"We need to be careful" Sansa said. Perhaps she should have been more sensitive, recognized Daenerys was Jons family now, but she just felt that awful jealousy in her gut, and worse, that the Dragon Queen would be worried about being challenged.

It was how Sansa would feel, were she Queen and a male Heir came along, a male Heir always won out.

"I know" Jon said with a small sigh, bowing his head and Sansa felt a wave of regret, for being so cynical, so jealous, that she couldn't let Jon enjoy any family on the side he'd never known, and yet she didn't apologise, she said nothing, unable to stand the thought of Daenerys replacing her.

It was short sighted and petty, but she just drank another splash, winced, and then spoke.

"I know she's family" She said quietly, and part of her mind urged her to be kind, to maybe encourage him to befriend Daenerys, but that part alas, was not the dominant part, keeping Jon safe, and away from the South, was her priority.

Unless…

No.

"But you're a threat to her" She whispered then, leaning in as Jon sat back up, and that purple gaze almost taunted her now, he shared that with her now, and Sansa hated her own jealousy, "And she knows it"

"She seemed happy to have family" Jon said with a sigh, and Sansa resisted the urge to glare, no, Jon looked tired, and emotional, and she pulled him into a hug, that instinct never went away.

And she was glad as he sunk into her embrace.

Hers, not the Dragon Queens.

"It's okay" She said in comfort, reminded of holding him underneath the Heart Tree, felt her own heart tug at just how much of Jons life had been upended in the past weeks, and how she'd always be here for him, always, and that meant protecting him, from threats, or a jealous foreign Queen but also from the chance he might end up away from her.

She should just say something, she knew that, trust Jon, who she trusted above all else, but she thought of his longing for family, the Queen jumping into his arms, and instead just reveled in his arms around hers, and tucked herself into him.

She would tell him, she had to, her feelings were already stronger than she thought they ever could be, but for now, both so not to upset things further, and also because Jon seemed to almost be sagging on her; he must be exhausted, it felt like the wrong time.

And perhaps come morning she'd have gotten ahold of herself. Perhaps.

"Come" She said as she pulled back slightly to stand up, and when she did Jon stood too, managed a small smile as she held out a hand, and he took it without hesitation, "Bed" She said, they had separate cots here, but by the time they'd readied themselves, and fallen into them, they were curled up next to each other.

And Sansa knew she should tell him, blurt it out there and then, forget the Dragon Queen, forget all of it, forget the fear and the worry, as Jon took her hand and clasped her fingers, intertwined them with his, she should say something, anything, just tell him!

She didn't though, as he slowly fell to sleep, never letting go of her hand, she promised herself she would, fear replacing envy in her stomach, fear of his reaction holding her back, just for the moment.

Which would be her mistake come morning.

Though she didn't know that as she too drifted asleep, Ghost at their feet, curled up together, with Jon, her Jon, who she wanted to be hers always.

And she would tell him, was her last thought as she was pulled under to sleep, she would, she would.

She should have.

When she awoke, she was alone.

She jerked awake, the space next to her was empty, Ghost was gone too, and Sansa didn't laze in bed or move leisurely, she was up quickly, tying her robe, stuffing her feet into her boots, quickly moving to the curtain, to go and find –

"Jon" She said in relief as he stepped through the tent flap, and she smiled in relief, even as she met that purple gaze that she so liked, for it was so him, but also felt that awful flinch of jealousy at.

"Are you al-" She began, but Jon interrupted and she raised an eyebrow at that, before both flew into her hairline at his words.

"The Queen has called us to her tent" He said, and immediately any thought of her own feelings, real and consuming as they were, fell away, as the thought of a threat, a threat to her, to the North, to Jon, very much in that order came to her, and her face hardened.

Her feelings could wait.

"Us?" Sansa asked as she hurried back inside, Jon followed, and she quickly reached for her things, washed speedily, disappearing behind the privacy stand to pull on fresh small clothes, before emerging, dress on, but unfastened, she turned her back to Jon for that, and he spoke quickly.

"Yes us" He said, with a small sigh, he hated doing her laces but she had no time to call her made here when they'd travelled on, and Jon had stepped in once or twice. This dress wasn't as complex, only three times which he hurriedly fastened, Sansa was thankful as she slipped her feet into boots, reached for her cloak and nodded, they had no time to spare.

"Wait" Jon said holding her at the tent flap, "What if she threatens us?" He asked, and Sansa nodded, for it was a very real possibility.

"You have Rhaegal now" She said and glanced at Ghost who was at her legs, the height of her hip now, and she scratched behind his ears indulgently before turning back to Jon, "And we have men here, she will find it hard to keep us or hurt us"

Jon nodded, and then they left, she took his arm, and they made quite a picture, Jon in all black, his black cloak trailing the floor, the Stark sigil at his breast. Sansa wore black too, a simple gown, with wolves running along the hem, and the cloak at her shoulders had a black fur trim, her hair remained down, billowing in fiery waves down her back.

They looked like two crows, Sansa would have usually commented as such, but she remained quiet, thinking, scheming.

What did the Queen want? She'd called them both, so this wasn't a chance to get to know her nephew. They were due to meet to discuss sieging the Castle anyway, so what was this? Sansa felt nerves hurry in her stomach.

She glanced back at Brienne who had fallen behind her, gripping her sword. 2 guards followed Jon, and Lord Davos met them at the command tent. Five more Stark guards stood outside, and they all bowed to their King.

They paused for only a second, to share a look, and she managed a small smile, it was still Jon, even as his purple met her blue, there was still that warmth in his gaze as he pulled the tent flap for her and they stepped inside. Still Jon, still her.

And she'd protect that with her life.

Once inside, Sansa took a quick stock of who was present.

The Dragon Queen stood at the top of the table, dressed in black herself this time, hair in severe plaits, a necklace of dragons at her throat, silver and with rubies for eyes, she looked formidable Sansa could admit. Her usual advisors, Tyrion stood at her side, he had no smiles this time, only mistrust in his gaze, her Spymaster Lord Varys was impossible to read. Missandei stood at her other side and looked nervous … interesting.

Dothrarki guards lined the back wall, there was nothing too different to this as there had been at Dragonstone, and yet Sansa felt worry climb up her spine, especially as the Dragon Queen glanced at her but quickly turned her gaze to Jon, and Sansa could have sworn she seemed to soften. Fuck.

She did not release Jons arm as they approached the table, and that was very much deliberate on her part.

Ghost trotted at her skirts as Stark guards lined opposite the Dorthraki, Lord Davos stood next to Jon, Brienne a pace behind her. Very much reminiscent of meeting at Dragonstone.

Only this time Sansa had realized she was very much in love with Jon. And the Dragon Queen was looking at him differently too.

Sansa was glad she'd learned how to compose her expression, keep her face neutral as Jon released her arm and they stood at the tables end, opposite their … not quite foes, but not quite allies, though to Sansa everyone who wasn't on their side of the table, she considered an enemy.

She met Lord Varys' gaze then, the spider, she wondered if he could read her? She had to assume so, even if she prided herself on her neutral expression, he was far more talented than her, and he offered her a smile, she almost flinched. Almost.

She was no child in Kings Landing anymore, she had to be strong, scheming, for Jon, for them.

"Thank you for coming" The Queen said, and Sansa could have sworn even her tone was softer, and she was focused only on Jon. Sansa again worked to not let an ounce of the worry or frankly annoyance show on her face, especially as Jon smiled and nodded. It was just Jon being polite, but still.

"As everyone can see Jon has changed somewhat" Jon?! Sansa was glad her hands were obscured by the table as she curled her hands into fists, hard. When had he become Jon?

Focus, she scolded herself, she had to focus.

"And when we spoke last night, he revealed he had recently found out he is not Lord Eddard Starks son" Daenerys said, and yet Sansa knew she was just saying this out loud to get it out loud, she'd already briefed her team. "He is the son of my brother Rhaegar Targaryen, and Lyanna Stark"

"Aye" Jon said with a nod, and Sansa worried again as the Queen smiled. Why wasn't she angry? Why wasn't she threatened? She should be, Sansa would be, why wasn't she threatening him? Demanding he make no claim? Why?!

Sansa realized it only seconds before she said it.

"And so as many will realise, that makes Jon a candidate for the Iron Throne" Sansa should have been tipped off of her openly acknowledging it, and yet she only gripped Jon's hand under the table, grasped it, hard, to Jon's credit, he did not flinch or glance at her, he only squeezed her hand back.

"I have no interest in the Iron Throne" He said quickly, and Sansa was glad to him for saying that, he belonged in the North with her.

Unless…

No.

"That is always what the best rulers say" Lord Varys said, and then glanced at her again, he was the only one who did, why?

"Indeed" Lord Tyrion next, only he kept his gaze on Jon. Sansa felt like she was playing some sort of game where she didn't know the rules, what were they doing? Why were they … ?

Oh no.

"Regardless of your interest" The Queen continued, "I have a simple solution"

Oh no.

Could she take his hand? Grab his face confused, not at the conclusion she'd reached? Urge him to run with her? Sprint from here, find the dragon now belonging to him, jump atop and flee North? Never ever to set foot in the South again?! Could they? Get to the snow, and the cold, and she'd tell him everything, confess it all and beg him to never leave. Could she? Was it too late? Was she too late?!

"You claimed one of my children, my dragon Rhaegal" The Queen said, "Even your cousin" The emphasis there was not lost on Sansa, "Suggested a good solution would be more dragon riders" Oh no. "I would have one in you"

"I'd be happy to ride Rhaegal into battle alongside you" Jon said, Sansa knew he was less than happy, would be leaving his men on the front lines, but also he'd be of more use in the air. That didn't matter now though. She wanted to grab Jon's hand, run away, turn away from here and what she knew was coming-

"Yes" The Queen smiled again, and Jon, who hadn't figured it out yet, Lord Davos glanced at her, had he? "But more, you are an Heir to the Throne" Sansa noted she didn't say the Heir, "But I intend to claim it, what you want or refuse might not matter, certain people" Her gaze flickered for just a second to Sansa again and back, barely noticeable, but Sansa saw it, met the purple gaze so different in many ways to Jon's, but so similar it made her want to scream. "Might push you, but again I have a solution"

No, no, no.

"What?" Jon asked, always to the point and Sansa wanted to cry, but she didn't interrupt, couldn't, it would look odd, this was not her place, could she faint? Pretend to faint? How could she stop this?!

Panic had thrown away any chance to focus and think, pure panic.

"You marry me" The Queen said with that smile, "Marry me, we will rule as Targaryens together, we will take the South" She began, but then she glanced at Sansa once more, and Sansa knew what was coming, knew and wanted to kill her, knew and could do nothing, nothing at all, "And I will help you in the North, and then we will rule, and the Targaryen dynasty will return"

Check mate, had the Dragon Queen won?

At the very least Sansa knew with certainty she had lost.

ooof yup

next chapter jons reaction, sansa schemes, and someone .,... interesting gets involved

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