authorsnote: sorry this took so long! I got really stuck on something but here we go!

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songrecs: say yes to heaven - lana del ray

The next day, and the next were much like the same as a week passed.

Both of them trying to get used to 'the new normal' - I.e., Jon spending much of his time doing whatever Southern Princes were expected to do (which honestly, he'd worried would be dull, but it was anything but, he felt lucky in that regard, but he supposed being King had never been dull), and Sansa spending her time in something she was more used to: being a Southern Lady. Though the latter was much duller.

Whereas Jon spent his days attending meetings with his Father, Mother, Aunt and their advisors, attending court and watching his Father deal with the court and any partitioners, and training with his own Master of Arms, riding Caraxes when he could and getting better and better, Sansa was not having such an interesting time.

Sansa spent her days sewing, sitting with her Aunts, attending court but as a courtier, observing as she had before in Kings Landing and did again now, she wasn't quite as invisible as she was when she'd been a prisoner but she still picked bits up. Still, she was only an observer now, whereas Jon stood on the dais as the courtiers were dealt with, and his Father once or twice consulted him, and he chatted away with his Mother, smiled with his Aunt, Sansa was forced to stand in the crowd, powerless.

She hated it, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it for now.

No, whereas when court adjourned, Jon shot her an apologetic glance before leaving with his Mother (who Sansa was worried he was getting too close to, and yet she hated to begrudge him that), she was hurried away by her Aunts to go fabric shopping again.

She had enough dresses to last a month, she needed no more, but she just giggled, put on her delighted expression, and followed along. She could play the silly Southern girl, but she didn't have to like it, and told Jon as much as he stole away to take her for a walk.

"I know" He offered in a conciliatory tone, but she still felt annoyed, not at Jon, but at the whole situation, even as they walked arm in arm, she didn't feel calmer, just irritated at her station here.

It was just very different, she knew it was for Jon too, but his status hadn't changed, hers certainly had.

In the North they'd walked side by side, and even though she hadn't been Queen, they'd been equals, Jon the King in the North, Sansa, the Lady of Winterfell and his closest advisor, here she was just a Southern Lady, here she mattered little, whereas Jon was a Targaryen Prince. It was a bitter herb to swallow.

"Well, when we get married, you'll be a Princess" Jon said with a shrug, and her cheeks she knew turned pink then as he spoke.

Married … to Jon.

She knew it was strategic, and she had been delighted that he'd come up with a simple way to keep them together, keep her in Kings Landing, and had ensured that they could spend time together. The meeting and dinner with his family had solidified their betrothal, it was all but announced and that would come soon.

But it was still strange, it still made her feel … something.

She wasn't sure what it meant, her cheeks blushing pink as Jon continued, and she could have sworn there was a pink tinge to his cheeks too, "I mean, you'll be my wife" (Now her cheeks were the colour of red apples), "But we won't, not …" Jon stumbled, "You'll have a political place in court, more standing and rank, which means we can plan for the future, plan for what we need to do I mean"

"I know" Sansa said, her cheeks remained pink, but she tried to be stoic, to not think about where Jons words had been going, what they implied "But I'm not sure it will be like the North" She dropped to a whisper then, they had to be careful.

"We can't discuss this here" Jon said, and Sansa nodded, she knew, but she shook her head before Jon could suggest the alternative, the next time she'd be getting on dragonback would only be when forced.

She had been in her room two days before, having escaped the etiquette tutor her Father here had engaged, and had been simply looking out on the City she hated, when Jon had swooped overhead, on his blood red dragon, her heart had stuttered but he had flown with ease, at ease in this new life, in a way she wasn't.

"But what I mean is you'll be a Princess" Jon said with a small smile, it was a consolation prize, better than being a Southern Lady with no say, but Sansa knew it would mean very little.

"And what about the future?" She asked, for they hadn't even began to think of that, the implications of their marriage, of what would be expected of marriage, and what raised eyebrows there would be if those expectations were not met.

Sansa had tried not to think about it, tried and failed.

"We'll tackle those when they come" Jon said, and she could see his cheeks were pink, hers too.

He was her brother after all … well, no he wasn't, but he had been, for years, that counted for something, it meant something …

Didn't it?

There was the question, problem, and a burgeoning feeling of guilt, and even shame Sansa couldn't shake.

Problem indeed.

Because she knew what she should feel about the idea of marrying Jon, and then there was what she did feel, and it was so confusing, and her blush darkened, and she glanced at Jon and wondered if he felt the same, and should she say something, couldn't she and Jon talk about anything? And then as she went to…

"Your Grace" A trio of Ladies, each offering Jon their most simpering smiles, each dipping low in their courtesies, too low even, but none seemed abashed even as Jon just coughed and stumbled out a nervous hello.

That distracted her from her continually confusing feelings, Jon would never be comfortable as Prince, as King of the North he'd grown into, the role had belonged to him, but here he was a like a fish out of water, or a wolf in the desert.

Or a dragon not allowed to fly in the skies.

Because she tried to remind herself, Jon was as much dragon as wolf and that was something she was no closer to accepting, as much as she needed to.

She remembered seeing him as he'd swooped overhead on his dragon, he looked as at ease with Caraxes as he had with Ghost, and she needed to accept that.

Accept he wasn't a Stark, not fully, even though he always would be to her, he was half Targaryen.

And her cousin, not brother, somehow that bit had become easy to accept.

Another complication, because surely having confusing feelings about her cousin, who she'd once considered a brother, no matter half-brother or not, surely wasn't enough.

"And how are you Lady Sansa?" Her thoughts broken she turned with a smile.

"I am well Lady Primrose" Sansa said with a smile, Lady Primrose Celtigar was the niece of the Hand of the Coin, pretty and impeccably polite but there was ambition in her gaze, "How are you?"

"Quite well" She said with a grin, "Uncle is complaining about his busyness as always, but all is well" A subtle hint at her connection to the Small Council, Sansa was no novice at court behaviour.

And couldn't be, not if she were to live here, not if she were to survive here again.

"And you Lady Laira?" Sansa said turning to the second girl from the Crownlands, of House Hayford, pretty too but quieter, "How are you?"

"Well thank you" She said but nothing more, the third then jumped in.

"You do look well Lady Sansa, it seems our Prince is making you blush!" Lady Ashlyn, of House Massey said, grinning herself, she was bolder, "It seems he takes good care of you"

Their engagement was being announced that night, so Sansa knew what the Ladies were doing, fishing for information, for more reasons than one.

Sansa knew Jon, for many reasons, but chiefly his status as Prince and Heir to the Throne was a desirable catch, the best in the Kingdoms of course, and she was sure she'd have felt protective of him even if they weren't betrothed, even if her place here didn't depend on marrying him.

But it was also because he was Jon, her Jon, from home, her best friend, her family, and currently blinking nervously and glancing at her, she took pity (and resisted rolling her eyes), and did her own simpering grin back to the trio of Ladies from the Crownlands.

"Yes, he does make time for me busy as he is" She said, tucking her arm comfortably through Jons then and stepping closer, "But then Jon has always been attentive"

"I'm surprised you would know" Lady Primrose said but this time some venom crept into her voice, "You've only been in the Capitol a few weeks after all Lady Sansa, unlike some of us old fixtures" She jested, self-deprecating but making her point; she was good.

Unfortunately for her, and her ambitions to be a Princess, Sansa was better.

Better and Lady Primrose had no idea what was truly happening.

"Well, some people are just akin are they not?" Sansa said with a kind smile, but there was an edge there, she couldn't play wallflower here like she had in Kings Landing before, this time she was to be more of a player, not quite Queen Cersei, in fact, she used Lady Margaery, one of her first Southern friends as her inspiration, smiling and cocking her head just as she would have, she could just imagine her friend laughing at her impression, it was uncanny, "Perhaps you and Lord Peake feel the same?"

It was telling as Lady Primroses cheeks went up in flames, and her friends shared a nervous glance, but they moved on then, with quick curtsies and fluttering hands, leaving Sansa and Jon be.

"You are good" Jon said, and he truly sounded impressed as they stepped around a corner and she giggled, his laughter joining hers, "How did you know that?"

"I listen" She said airily and in a manner pretending to keep a secret but giggled again as Jon shot her a look, "Part educated guess, part gossip" She said with another giggle before she sobered slightly, "Remember I lived this life once"

"This time will be different though" Jon promised quickly, and she felt something ease as he walked them along, he sounded sure he was easy to believe, "And you were formidable"

Many men had called her beautiful, many had simpered over her looks, but Jon, Jon always knew what to say, how to compliment her, and what she truly wanted.

Formidable.

Her cheeks flamed.

By the moonlight Jon could not sleep.

Ever since ... ever since he'd suggested marrying Sansa (and before then if he were honest with himself), something in his chest had sprung to life and would no longer be suppressed. How long he'd been suppressing it, he ignored, he had enough to deal with.

And it wasn't here, it wasn't being a Targaryen or a Prince, or riding Caraxes or having a family, a family with a Mother, it wasn't any of that, that was all going much easier than he could have hoped, in fact he was enjoying it. Never the Prince bit (though he did like leading, he did not enjoy the deference or the courtly politics), but having his Mother, yes a Father here and Aunt too, but his Mother...

It was all he'd ever wanted really, and yet now something else lingered on the edge of his mind.

Sansa.

He was going to marry her.

He felt something more powerful than warmth in his chest, accompanied drenched in shame, what would their Father ... his Uncle and her Father, think? He had always promised to protect her, and now, now he was doing that, but it meant marrying her.

He remembered when he had been of his 3rd nameday, Robb too, and Sansa was only weeks old, Lady Catelyn had been asleep, and so he, Robb, and Lord Stark had stood at Sansa's cot side, and their Father had spoken to them...

'Boys remember we are pack, when the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives, do you remember that?'

'Yes Father' They'd both chimed.

'Sansa is a part of that pack, she is your sister, and you must protect her, do you understand?'

'Yes Father'

'With our lives' Jon had chimed in, and Robb had hastily agreed, and Lord Stark had looked at them with such pride...

And now Jon was to marry her, his sister.

And yet she wasn't, and he knew that deep down, and so did his soul, and his feelings were so confusing they ached. She was his cousin really, and yet ...

The way he felt about her was not for sister or some distant cousin.

He did not sleep that night, as he tossed and turned in his bed, and the moon shone overhead, and his mind never left Sansa.

She'd never truly worried, for Jon was Jon, he wasn't an actual Prince of the South … or rather, he was but wasn't one she didn't really know or had just become betrothed to, though she was betrothed to him, no, what she meant…

Truly her mind was a mess.

But in essence she'd never really worried about Jon being swayed by some Southern belle, or his Mothers attempts to convince him one last time to marry a Velayron, for they were Jon and Sansa, there was more to this than any knew.

This wasn't just about who would catch the Prince, or who would be the future Queen, this went to the survival of Westeros, and what they'd been sent back to do.

And even though they'd never gone beyond 'we'll deal with it' when the actual idea of their marriage, children, and all that entailed came to, she'd never doubted him. Jon if nothing else was dependable and loyal.

After all, it had been his idea, to keep her here, to keep them together, always.

And yet, as King Aegon Targaryen stood at dinner that night, and raised his glass, she felt something in her ease.

She wasn't sat with Jon unfortunately, but she hoped this would be the last time. She was sat with the Tully's at one of the lower tables, Jon sat next to his Mother, with a member of the Small Council Lord Celtigar in fact, on his other side, he offered her a smile across the tables, and she wondered as her gaze met his, whether she would ever get used to those purple eyes.

"May I have your attention?" The King said and all tittered at that, the King need not ask after all and it was clear he wasn't as he offered his subjects a smile, "I have some happy news"

"My son and Heir, Jaeherys Targaryen has decided now is the time to marry" He said with a smile and he turned to Jon then who stood to his feet, Sansa found it odd to hear the name he had here, they'd only found out four days earlier that was his true name, Jon a nickname Sansa found a little too convenient to imagine the Gods hadn't meddled (and Jon had been in for a shock when someone non-familiar had addressed him as Jaeherys, thankfully his stoicism had always been useful), regardless, she missed his name when it wasn't said.

Jon, her Jon.

"He has long put it off, much preferring trying to beat anyone who will accept his challenge in the training yard, or riding his dragon of course" The King mocked, to good natured laughs, Jon grinned, and Sansa felt both nervous and happy to see it was genuine.

She couldn't be bitter about Jon having a real family here, one not dictated by being 'half' or him being Motherless but the tightness, the nerves in her chest would not go. Selfish of her, she never said a word about it to Jon of course, but she couldn't quite shake his worry that he wasn't a Stark anymore or wouldn't see himself as one.

"But now he is to marry, and he has chosen a worthy bride" The King turned to her table then, raised his glass to her and nodded, and she stood, smoothing the skirts of her dress (Tully blue and silver, Jon in red and black, they all had parts to play, her eyes blue, his purple, she Stark and Tully, he Stark and Targaryen), a delighted smile on her face, she was to be made a Targaryen Princess, she had to sell the part.

She ignored the fact she didn't have to work that hard to do so.

And as Jon met her gaze, he was grinning from ear to ear too, and they shared that.

Did they know yet?

The Gods watched on…

"Lady Sansa of House Tully" King Aegon said, "We welcome you to our family in short course, Jaeherys has chosen well, a woman of the Riverlands, kind and beautiful, and I have no doubt will give my son lifelong happiness, and several Targaryen Heirs as well" He said with a grin, Sansa nodded, trying to look starry eyed as people around her laughed and whispered.

Again, she didn't have to try that hard.

"To Jaeherys and Sansa" He said, and all raised their glasses then to them, to them both, and Sansa felt something in her chest, something warm and real, as Jon out of step with protocol stepped away from his table and walked around it, Sansa picked up her skirts and followed, and they met in the middle of the room, and took one another's hands.

"To the future King and Queen"

And in that moment, outside of the time travel, the crazy circumstances that had brought them here, outside of the envious girls, the nervous looks, outside of her shaking hands, and Jon's doublet red and black, not grey, and white, they were just Jon and Sansa, just them, and as Jon took her hands and squeezed them, she realised …

She knew.

And so did he.

And the Gods watched on…

oh yes the Gods do meddle...

thoughts? jon and sansa do have a LOT to think on.

do review if you can

speak soon(er) I promise!