authorsnote: DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT

and I'll leave it there

enjoy 3

songrecs: all the things she said - tatu

By the time they managed to find a guest house, book lodgings for the night, and stumble up to their joint room, it was dark and anytime to explore would have to wait for the morning

Which suited him fine, he was sure he'd never been so exhausted in his life.

He didn't begrudge it, he wouldn't have been able to sleep properly on the road if he'd been alone, having Sansa to protect meant he'd barely got more than two hours sleep at a time over the past few weeks, both from keeping watch and being so tense and vigilant, sleep had struggled to come even when they'd found somewhere safe for the night.

It was his duty now though.

He'd abandoned his brothers, his vows, and though he still felt the sting of guilt, it had lessened and he hoped would continue to do so as the days moved on. But, it wasn't just time that had the guilt dulling but the vow that had supplanted that of his Watch vows.

His vow to always protect Sanaa.

The guilt dulled with each minute he spent in her presence, protecting her, watching her smile a little more and tense less, watching the sun beat down on her face as she chatted away, offered him a smile or settled back against him as he rode his horse down the weathered roads, completely trusting of him, in a way that had him promising his vow to her again and again in his head.

And the morning she'd put on her blue dress, red hair rippling in the breeze, and had looked happy, truly happy for the first time since they'd reunited, he'd felt no guilt at all for leaving the Wall, had only managed a smile, and known his vow to protect Sansa would always supplant any other.

His new duty.

His new vow.

"Jon" Sansa said, her voice yanking him out of his thoughts, those which lingered on her grinning at him in that blue dress, guilt seeping through the thought, but not for his vows, for something else, something he couldn't quite identify in his exhaustion.

Or perhaps didn't want to.

"You need to sleep" She said, and he watched as she placed their bags on the floor, easing his off his shoulders, Ghost settled near the door, bigger even now than when they'd left Westeros, Jon knew his loyal companion would guard them well.

His loyal companion always yes, but Ghost spent more time at Sansa's legs than his these days, but he liked that, fancied that it was Ghost understanding who needed protecting, that Ghost would be there if Jon couldn't, just as he had been Beyond the Wall.

"Aye" He said, nodded, because he did need to sleep, he wouldn't protest that, his eyelids had started dropping at the sight of the bed. The single bed in the room. "Didn't we ask for two beds?"

"They didn't have any" Sansa said, her cheeks a little pink, "Is that okay?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" He said, he didn't need exhaustion to make him honest, it was just his way, he only lied when necessary and still preferred not to, he was Eddard Starks son after all, "Was just curious"

As he made his way into the bathroom, he didn't see how pink Sansa's cheeks had gotten.

He washed quickly, too tired to do anything but undress, wash and then dress back in breeches and a loose linen shirt running a hand through his scruffy hair and beard, come morning he'd have a bath, shave and sort himself out, right now he just needed to sleep, right now he felt near ready to collapse.

As he walked into the room, Sansa passed him to the bathroom, and he near collapsed on the bed as it came into view, the most inviting sight to him.

He forced himself to stay awake long enough though for Sansa to join him, dressed in a night dress, smelling sweet, she slid in next to him and he managed a smile as she curled up on her side next to him, eyes wide, trembling a little.

"Are you cold?" He asked, there was no fire in the room as Qohor ran hot enough, but there was a chill to the air, the nights cooler than the day perhaps, he could see goosepimples on Sansa's arms and quickly ran his hand up and down her skin, his own cheeks darkening a touch against his will, even in offering such comfort.

"No I'm fine" Sansa said and Jon rolled his eyes before scooping Sansa into his arms, thinking nothing of it, considering all the nights on the road she'd slumbered with her face in the crook of his neck, tucked against him where he could protect her.

Always.

Where she belongs, his exhausted mind echoed, though he was too tired to pay it any mind.

That was surely it.

"Sleep Sansa" He said, his voice gravelly from sleep, his eyes sliding shut, a dagger was under his pillow, and Ghost guarded the door, they were as safe as could be, "You're safe"

"I know" It made him smile to hear the certainty in her voice, her trust in him always made him feel warm, as did he body next to his, as she tucked herself in, her head on his chest, his arms at her waist, one of hers on his, the other wrapped around his neck.

As close as two people could be.

Perhaps too close for brother and sister.

But neither cared, Jon too tired, Sansa too tired as they drifted off to sleep in a strange city in the far East, magic humming in the air ….

And the warlocks of Qohor waking in the night for Kings blood now sang inside their walls.

"No sign of her, my Lord Hand"

A lie but no one knew it but the two spies themselves at the table. No one would know it, as long as he didn't show his hand, as long as he didn't break.

He never did.

"Where is she?! She has not disappeared from the face of the world, she is somewhere, alive, or dead, she is somewhere!" Lord Tywin ranted as he had every small council meeting since Sansa Stark had absconded from the Capitol, the Hands calm demeanour slipping with each week without news.

And for good reason, Sansa Stark had been a key hostage, a way to unite the North and Riverlands under the throne. Her betrothal to Joffrey had been broken, but Varys knew the Lord Hand had planned for a match with Tyrion, two children from that union would see Lannister's ruling four Kingdoms, five when Robin Arryn inevitably took ill and the Vale was given to Sansa's child, even with the tenuous connection.

All had been planned by the Hand and all had fallen apart, thanks to Sansa herself.

He would have smiled had he not been surrounded by enemies.

They were all enemies here, bar one, enemies to the people, and so enemies to him.

"Perhaps she is in a shallow grave somewhere" The Queen spoke, face filled with anger, tone with venom. She'd been in serious trouble when Sansa Stark had escaped and blamed the girl for her punishment, not ever recognising her own foolishness as the cause.

The sooner the realm was rid of her, the better.

But patience, patience indeed, it was not time for that, not yet.

"Quiet" The Hand snapped at her, Varys hid his smirk, Tyrion, sat at the other head of the table made no such effort, revelling in his sisters misfortune, one of his flaws but key motivations.

"The world is vast Father, I doubt we'll find her if she does not wish to be found" Tyrion said, and Varys knew he was just thrilled to avoid marriage to the Stark girl, child as she was in his eyes. And likely pleased at his Father and Sisters frustration.

"Have we checked who she could have gone to for aid?" Tywin said, ignoring his youngest son all together, often his worst flaw.

"Lysa has not seen head nor hair of her, my Lord Hand" Baelish said, madder than most that the Stark girl had slipped through his fingers, thank goodness for her, Varys near shuddered at what Littlefinger had started to cook in the background that would have surely seen the Northern girl in the clutches of the Master of Coin, perhaps as bad as being a prisoner in the Capitol, not that she'd realise it until it was too late.

"Riverrun is under siege" Pycelle said, "Bryden Tully holds it now, she could have snuck in there"

"She never would have made it to him alive" Tywin said, and was of the right of that, "The Riverlands are too dangerous for seasoned warriors to cross, never mind Sansa Stark, where else?" He continued.

"The North?" Cersei said, ever keen to get back in favour with her Father, though that was unlikely anytime soon.

"The Boltons hold Winterfell" Tywin said, "Where else could she go? Roose Bolton assures me all Keeps have been checked and checked again, and again, how would she have made it there? All sailors have been questioned, the ports checked. No, where else?"

"It is still the most likely place my Lord" Baelish said, "Northerners are loyal to their own"

"But not stupid" He insisted, "They don't have the men to protect Sansa Stark, if she were in the North, the Boltons would have found her by now"

"What of her bastard brother at the Wall?" Cersei asked and were Varys not such a good liar he would have flinched. He took a moment to look around the room, no one else seemed effected, but then Baelish were a good a liar as he, Tyrion too.

Plus the cutthroat in Essos could only be Baelish's man, whether the Master of Coin had traced Sansa to Qohor as he had was another matter.

For now both of them remained silent.

Neither would tip their hand, even to destroy the other.

"The Nights Watch would never hide a girl; they do not involve themselves in the affairs of men" Tywin said, for a man who put family first he was remarkably blind to where Sansa would flee to, who would be her first port of call.

From Varys gentle enquiries she had first thought of the Vale but had abandoned that idea all together when a Captain had told her of his ship being bound for the Wall.

There Sansa Stark had made her choice and changed the game completely, fooling everyone, even he hadn't considered she'd seek refuge with her bastard brother, an oversight on his part, foolish, he was sure Baelish had made the same mistake, checking the Vale first.

Sansa Stark for a moment, just a moment, had evaded them all, clever girl.

But even she, nor the boy she was with could evade his spiders or birds, or to his annoyance, Baelish's men for long.

"Still, send a raven" The Hand said, "Ensure the Lord Commander gets it and verifies the bastard boy remains"

A raven that would have to be shot down on route and a forgery put in place, but that was easy to see to.

For the realm.

He could not have any Lannister getting their hands on Sansa Stark again, not Baelish for that matter.

For the realm.

As the Council meeting came to an end, the King thankfully made no appearance to shriek and rage, as he had done since Lady Sansa has escaped, Varys was thankful and sent a quick word to his friend over the seas, they needed eyes in Qohor; and though he had spiders scuttling fast as they could to the eastern most Free City he feared it would not be fast enough.

She didn't think she'd ever slept better.

And the reason for that was apparent the second she woke, sunlight streaming through the windows, warmth in the air stifling, but not just for the heat in the new place they were in, but for who was next to her.

Or rather, wrapped around her.

She had awoken closer to Jon than she'd ever been to any other man.

With Joffrey she'd shared a kiss or two before he'd turned on her and the only stroke he placed on her was that by the Kingsguard, beatings that had been infrequent but painful. Twice a kiss in Winterfell, both times unremarkable. One kiss with Sandor that had left her lips tingling.

But this, her cheeks went pink as she realised their position, but she hesitated to scramble away as she should have.

He was her brother, and yet she'd never felt more comfortable, safer, and so Sansa hesitated.

They were both clothed, she reasoned, it was innocent, comfort seeking, just as they'd held one another at Castle Black and then Pentos and then on the road, but even she could acknowledge, blush flushing down her chest, it had been nothing like this.

This was intimate.

Both lying on their sides, facing one another, her face had been buried in Jon's neck, her nose brushing his collarbone, skin on skin, the delicate brush of his chest hair tickling her cheeks, her red locks no doubt doing the same to his face, his nose. His face had been buried in her hair, in the sweet locks she'd managed to wash and ring out before bed, thankful to be clean.

Clearly Jon appreciated that too, her cheeks scalding pink at the thought.

His arm had been tucked under her head, in the little space at the crook of her head, his other flung over her waist, his hand cradling her hip, holding there, keeping her close. Her arm was the mirror of only wrapped around his neck, her fingers brushing at his nape.

Their legs were tangled, hers tucked between his, their bodies flush. As close as two people could be.

Closer than a brother and sister should be.

And why had she thought of first kisses when she had awoke?

Too much, too close, yet she did not flinch away, never anything but safe with Jon and so comfortable, so at ease for the first time in years, it was hard to rip herself away, it was near impossible, for so long she had been strong, now she allowed herself some weakness, ill advised as it was.

Too close.

"Sansa?" Jon spoke then, she hadn't noticed he had woke, and as he did, running his nose over her hair, before his eyes widened, and hers did too, to see his reaction, what should have been hers.

Too close.

And yet she could swear she saw something flicker in his eye, something there, in the depths, and then … she could have sworn she saw a colour flicker there, his usual Stark grey in the light almost looked … violet.

Was Qohor playing its tricks already?

But first …

Jon jumped up first, and Sansa quickly scrabbled to her feet, her cheeks the colour of fresh tomatoes now surely, her chest too, a full blush always extending down her neck and marking her pale skin. It was foolish, to be embarrassed in front of Jon, but there was reason for it, the way they had awoken, and his cheeks were pink too …

Too close.

Why did she feel this way? She should feel ashamed, guilty, they had woken wrapped around one another in a way that had been different than before, that wasn't right for siblings, and yet all her mind focused on was how safe she had felt, how comfortable.

How happy she had been in those moments as she had awoken.

Was her body that starved of affection? Was she that desperate for a kind touch, she didn't feel embarrassed in finding it in Jon? Finding it this way in Jon?

She tried to reason they hadn't done anything wrong, her mind battling between what she wanted and what she knew, and yet even she knew no siblings should be wrapped together like that.

There hugs and slumbering together before this had been different, this had been different.

Better, no, yes, better.

"I… ugh I" Jon started, and Sansa would have laughed were she not breathing so heavily, now she was not comfortable and warm and feeling utterly at ease, now she analysed how they had awoken, how … inappropriate it had been, as had her reluctance to leave Jon's embrace had been, how that flicker in his gaze hadn't just been her imagination.

Her mind conjured shame, as it should be, but focused again on how good she had felt, how happy.

"I'm going to bathe" He said, stumbling and Sansa quickly nodded, wanting the alone time surely as much as Jon did, her mind a complete scramble, her hands even shaking a bit now. What did this mean?

It was only when he hurried into the bathroom, pulling the door too did Sansa sink to the floor, knees to her chest, and let herself breathe.

Too close.

And yet, that feeling of safety, that feeling of something thrumming in her heart remained, as did the absence of shame.

She of course had no idea that Jon stood the other side of the bathroom door, sinking to sit down also, feeling the exact same way, but with a hunger underpinning it all.

While his eyes flickered.

the latter part was maybe my fav section of this story to write

we are a slow burn, but things are heating up ... for good or bad.

I know ppl might be disappointed we didn't visit qohor yet, but trust me, the magic city is coming and has some surprises in store, expect the unexpected...

do review