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Sansa was kneeling in the Red Keep again. Alone, no other Stark was beside her. No one to help. Her former husband standing on the right of the queen not knowing who she was. Sansa clothes were thathered from the long journey from the Vale to kings Landing. Her feet were sore, and she was pushed around by the queens Dothraki people who brought her back to this wretched place. Her brown hair and her hooded cloak hid her face and hid her identity from those around her. She was undoubtedly in the center of the court. Right in the spot Joffrey had her at arrow point only a mere couple of years before.

“Who is this?” The Queen asked, elegant eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“We found this one in the Vale, along with this, and a body she had pushed out of a circle that stood over the earth before we could stop her.” The leader replied that had backhanded her when she tired to climb over the edge of the boat.

“The moon door, your grace.” Tyrion Lannister explained. “I almost went through it myself.” He said.

“Somehow I find that does not surprise me in the least.” She said with a quirk to her lips. Sansa felt the hands on her shoulders as she struggled to get up. She was weak from the travel and was not well treated. Her ankle had been twisted in one of her attempts to escape from her captives. It had blown up to two sizes bigger than it was supposed to. They refused to treat her until their Khaleesi told them what she was to be done with. And that was all she understood from their strange language.

“Remove the accuses hood as so the court can judge fairly.” Tyrion said. One of the members who understood Westeros language ripped her hood off of her head. Her brown hair came tumbling down and she opened her eyes to glare at her majesty. Sansa didn’t care, what happened to her anymore. Her family was dead or missing, and she is back in the one place she wished she never was.

“What is your name?” Her grace asked harshly. Sansa didn’t speak, she just stared up at the Queen. Tyrion looked at her with a slight look, but didn’t quite recognize her.

“I’m Alayne Stone. Your Grace.” She replied, after the Queen asked her second time, bowing her head to keep it low. Her glare did not leave her face, only moved towards the ground.

“A Bastard, Dany.” A man said walking up past Sansa.

“Aegon. You said you would be busy with Jon all day.” She said with a little smile in her voice. Sansa’s head lifted at the name. Jon, no it can’t be. She thought as she looked up at the man on her Majesty’s left. His matching white haired indicated to Sansa that he was also a Targaryen.

“Like I could leave my beloved Aunt to do the dirty work all by herself. What is this girl charged with?” He asked as he looked down at Sansa from Dany’s side.

“She, as I am told has committed a murder. And then disposed of the body through a moondoor?” Dany asked, turning to look at Tyrion Lannister. He shook his head yes, at her question of what the door was called.

“That little thing?” Aegon asked with a look of whimsical disbelief.

“Actually I’ve committed two.” Sansa spoke up. If telling the truth was going to get her either dead or out of kings Landing so be it. “I killed my father, and my husband. One with poison and the other with a knife you see right there.” Please just kill me now. She wished all of this would end. That the pain of this wretched world would just be over with.

“You do know that murder is punished with death, child?” Daenerys asked. Sansa was tired, so tired of playing games and being used as a pon by others. She refuses to be used as a pon any longer. Telling the truth of killing two people would give her the decision of a death. She lifted her head and met the Queens eyes directly. Sansa put all of her feelings and outrage into the look. She was practically glaring at the young women on the throne.

“I’ve committed another crime your Grace, I have lied to you. My name is not Alayne Stone, its Sansa Stark.” There was an audible gasp and loud whispers throughout the court. “I murdered my husband Harrold Hardyng heir to Jon Arryn with poison at the order by Peter Bealish who I was told to call him father. I was to be renamed as a Bastard, Alayne Stone, and then from the Vale I was to escape to Winterfell my one and only true home. But your men caught me killing Petyr with his own knife, because he had no intention of taking me back to the north. Your Grace, I have committed these crimes and should be punished. Kill me, string my dead body up for all I care, put my head on a spike like Joffrey did with my Father’s head. Show it off to the people in Kings Landing. I don’t care, not anymore. But I refuse to be used as a pon it your game anymore.”

“Silence! Do you know who you are speaking to you conniving Bastard. Your lies will not be heard here. Because tales tell that Sansa Stark is dead.” Aegon said. Looking over at Tyrion. Tyrion walked down the stairs and stood in front of his thought to be deceased lady wife,

“Sansa?” He asked. She stayed silence as she looked down at Tyrion.

“What is going on?” A male voice was heard throughout the now silent court.

“Jon?” Aegon spoke up. Sansa turned around to peer at the man who just walked into the court. His lean face was scarred but still it looked almost as the day when he left. Sansa thought her father just walked through the doors. His face was set the same way her fathers would when he was concentrating. He was followed by a flushed face fat man.

“Jon?” Sansa asked tentatively.

“That is prince Jon Targaryen of the seven kingdoms to you murdering Bastard!” Aegon boomed at his position. Sansa realized that Aegon must have some of the Targaryen madness.

“Aegon.” Dany said to her nephew in a harsh voice.

“Targaryen?” She asked as to kingsguards came up to her and grabbed both of her arms.

“You disgrace your prince and you lied to her majesty, take her to the dungeons.” His temper flared. The guards rough handled Sansa as she was being pushed away from Tyrion and away from the only family she has known to have left.

“Stop!” Jon yelled after the knights. “Please.” He asked pleading to his Aunt.

“Wait. Aegon, your temper is getting the best of you again.” Daenerys scolded. Jon went in front of Sansa and stared at her. Her tully eyes looked at him with tears in her eyes.

“You’re alive.” She whispered, Jon felt tears come to his eyes as well. He knew those eyes. The eyes matched her mother eyes. Eyes of the Tully. This was Sansa Stark, the last thing Jon had to the north. Jon put his hand on her cheek as she didn’t flinch away from him and when the soldiers let her go, she collapsed into his arms. Holding her tightly, he held in his tears as best he could.

“This is Sansa Stark. This is my sister.” He declared.

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Its been a month since Sasna has been in King's Landing. In that amount of time, her ankle has been saw to and she was able to walk, rather slowly, but at least without any assistance from another. Daenerys had pardon her of all crimes and had also sent Aegon to apologized for his behavior, which was normal for him to have outburst at those who murder parents, she had come to find out. Sansa has seen her former Husband Tyrion Lannister and told that he had their marriage annulled a month after Daenerys took the throne. He also refused to give her, her old room from when she first came from Winterfell.

The only person she hasn’t seen much since being discovered is the one person she wished to see the most. Jon Snow, her former brother, half brother as she used to always correct others, had not been to see her since he had carried her to her new arrangement and seen that she was going to make a full recover. She knows that he is probably still mad at her for how she treated him growing up. How he probably wishes she were dead, and that it was Arya that they had caught. Had brought back into his life, not his other cousin that looked so much like her mother. The women who resented his existence.

There was a slight tapping at her door as Sansa remained seated by the window. Her red hair was shining through the muddy brown that had washed out rather quickly, proving that she was in fact Sansa Stark. Gilly, the girl making sure she was well looked after, rose from the seat across from her. Going to answer the door after Sansa gave a short nod. She didn’t turn her head as Samwell Tarly walked into the room. Jon’s former brother of the Nights Watch and steward. Making his way over to where Sasna sat staring out of her window at the sea and the town of Kings Landing, she didn’t even lift her head to looking at him. Sam realized that her physical recovery was going well, but mentally she was a broken shell. She didn’t want to fight anymore.

“Prince Jon sends his regards, hoping you are feeling better today. He is sorry he can not see you this afternoon. His grace is stuck with court business.” Samuel said looking down as the news no longer registered on her face. Gilly marches over to Sam pushing him.

“Well you tell the Prince, that he better get his ducks lined in a row and come to visit his sister!” Gilly fumed out. She had learned little of Sansa but had been here to calm her night terrors that she was prone to. Worried over the little miss was her duty and she seemed to have taken a liking to her as well. Being tortured by a man you loath was something she could relate to.

“Cousin.” A soft hoarse voice spoke. Both sets of eyes look at the young women. She stood up slowly putting pressure on her bad ankle and walked away from the window. “I am not his sister. Though I suppose I never was.” She paused as she stood by her bed post. “Go, Sam, tell him he no longer needs to feel obliged to send word to me. I am doing fine, and he does not need my worries on top of his. I no longer wish to be a burden on him.” It was the most Sansa has talked since the day she was brought into in front of the court. When Sasna turned around to look at the two, they looked almost dumbfounded. She gave a slight smile for reassurance. “Sam.” She said again, finding her voice.

“Yes, as you wish Milady.” He gave her a slight bow before leaving her room. Turning her attention to Gilly, she gave the fragile looking girl a little bigger smile.

“Gilly, would you send word to her Majesty that I wish to speak to her about the northern territory?”

“Right away Milady.” She said with a quick curiosity, and hurried to the door. But before she left she quickly turned around. “Milady, beg your pardon, but why do you wish to talk to her about the north?” Sasna walked over to the window and sat down in her chair again. Her voice full of confidence.

“I wish to go home.” Was the only thing she replied back. She heard the door shut behind Gilly as she finally let herself cry. The tears she had been holding in all day, waiting for Jon to come and to hear again that he wasn’t going to, had been it. As she said in court. She was no longer a pon. In if that meant losing the last family she thought she had, then so be it. She was a Stark. As her father always said, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell.

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A week went by before Queen Daenerys could see Sansa, but when Sansa arrived in the gardens, she was welcomed with a warm smile.

“Sansa, my dear, please come. I have lemon cakes, I heard they were your favorite.” She said. Her eyes bright and yet her smile was guarded.

“Thank you your Grace.” She replied back as she usually always did. A forced smile on her face.

“I was told you wish to speak to me about the northern territory.” She said, not beating around the bush. That was one thing Sansa enjoyed about this Queen she knew what she wanted and got right down to business, not games or light hearted talks that meant nothing to her.

“Yes, I wish to go back to Winterfell. I want to return home. Bury my fathers bones, along with my brother, Robb’s in Winterfells crepts.”

“I understand you're longing to return home. My only concern is that you may rebel and claim the North as a separate kingdom as such your brother did.” She said, her gaze never wavering from the girl seated before her.

“No, your Grace, I would never do that. Really, and Truly my only wish is to return home.” Sasna protested. Daenerys noticed how thin Sansa looked and how she had not touched the lemon cakes in front of her.

“As your Cousin Jon, has assured me. He seems very fond of you, he even offered to take you back up there himself. But I’m afraid if I let him go, he might never return.” She gave a small lifeless laugh to that thought. Sansa looked at the Queen with a surprised look.

“Prince Jon has talked about me your Grace?” Sansa asked with pure puzzlement. Jon had not been to see her in the time she has been in Kings Landing. Only in passing really.
“Yes, he's constantly talking about the North, and how much he misses it. Wishing to take you home. How you belong there. How Winterfell is rightfully yours as the Iron Throne is rightfully mine. Hes a curious one that Jon isn’t he?”

“I suppose he is.” She drifted back into the conversation.

“With that in mind, I offered him this solution then. To have my mind at easy. The Tyrells have been offering me Magary to marry Jon, but somehow I just can’t seem to agree with the match.” She said placing her hand on top of Sansas. “I had a better match, in mind. One that would guarantee your safety from those who want your hand in marriage for title of Warden of the North and for Jon who is no longer really needed here at court, for the war is over and he is really not good with the political war that is about to begin. So I propose a marriage between you and Jon.” Sansa looked at the Queen with a look of confusion.

“I know that look. Jon gave me that same look, of complete disbelief. But this is the best way, for both of you. Go live your lives up in winterfell, give me more nieces and nephews to dote on, and both of you will no longer be pons for others to play with. I remember your declaration like it was yesterday. That head strong girl that doesn’t belong here anymore.” she seemed like this was the easiest solution. That she had thought about this long and hard.

“Your Grace, I don’t know what to say.”

“Think about it, Jon is. And please Sansa, you are not a prisoner here, eat a lemon cake. There very good.” She said popping one in her mouth. With a smile that was no longer guarded. But inviting.

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Sansa sat looking at the flames in her fireplace as she tried to come up with a good reason not to agree to the marriage. It was hard to find fault with Daenerys’ plain. It was easy, simple, and even seemed to fit both of Sansa and Jon’s needs to return home. She gets the family she always wanted, she gets Winterfell back, and she can leave the stress of the Southern courts behind her. Sansa was tugging on the hem of a dress that had torn, not being able to fix it just the way she wanted, she tug too hard and made another hole.

She would have to speak with Jon on the matter, to be certain, but Sansa would agree to this marriage. It seemed the most logical, and the simplest decision she truly has had to make in years. There was a soft knock, but determined knock, that pulled her out of her thoughts. Putting the usual fabric down on her seat she stood up.

“Come in.” She said expecting Gilly to say goodnight, or Sam with some news to talk to her about. But to Sansa surprise the man who walked in was lean, and had a chiseled jaw. The black curly locks were running wild around his scared face, framing it well. His scars that were visibly had faded but to Sasna they didn’t do anything that didn’t make him any less appealing to the eye. She must have looked stunned because Jon had walked in shutting the door behind him, and gave a slight bow.

“I am sorry. If I have caught you at the wrong time, I could come back at a more decent time.” He said, turning his back, like he wanted to go.

“No!” Sasna said a little too fast and a little too loud. She coughed and cleared her throat and started again. “No. Your timing is perfect your Grace.” She said bowing.

“Jon. Sansa, just call me Jon, please.” He said, walking over to her.

“Please, take a seat Jon. I believe we have much to talk about.” Both sat down in the seats next to the fire as Sansa moved her work into the basket by her chair. “Would you like something to drink?” She asked, raising a little.

“No, no I’m perfectly fine. Thank you.” He answered fast. The Awkwardness that settled over them was almost unbearable to both of them. “I believe you spoke with my aunt this afternoon.” He stated after a couple of moments of complete silence.

“Yes. Her Grace is very lovely.” She replied. “Very welcoming to ideas.” She said, placing her hands on her lap. Her fingers fiddled with the fabric of her skirt.

“So, I’m to believe that she has told you her thoughts about us, you, returning to Winterfell? To the North?” Jon stuttered when he said us. Meaning he knew exactly what Daenarys had proposed to her in the gardens.

“It took a marriage proposal for you to come visit me?” Sansa pondered. She didn’t try to disguise the hurt in her eyes.

“I wasn’t sure you wanted to see me.” He said in return. Wring his hands together in frustration.

“I’ve been here a moons time Jon. Many moons have passed since I yearned to see you.” She paused. His eyes finally left his hands as he stared into her eyes. The blue Tully eyes that she possessed. “I thought, you were mad at me, because I wasn’t Arya. I know how much you yearn to see Arya more than I. Sometimes I wish I was she so that you would at least let me look at the man I used to call brother.”

“Half brother.” He corrected automatically. Grimacing at the tone he had used. Not meaning for it to sound so harsh.

“Thats right. I was always so cruel to you as a child. Too much time has passed between us for forgiveness isn’t it.” She stood up and walked over to her window. Away from Jon, away from memories that haunt her.

“You were a child. A girl. We were both children.” He said, standing but not walking over to her.

“I’m going to agree to the marriage Jon.” She said, holding the tears in. Turning around quickly she looked at him by the fire, his face half shadow half light. The look of pure astonishment written on his face. Never would he believe that Sasna would agree to marry a Bastard. Especially a Bastard she once called brother.

“I do not want to force you into something you do not want.” He moved over to the window and stood before a couple of feet. Sansa didn’t like the distance, she was away from her family for too long, and here was the last one she knew was still alive and well standing front of her. Moving with quick motions she placed her one hand on his cheek and the other on his shoulder as she looked him straight in the eyes.

“Take me home Jon. I wish to go home.” A tear went down her face, as he raised his hand to wipe away the stray.

“Home is different. The others are gone, but the chaos has left Winterfell in ruins. It will take years before it was anything close to what it once was.” He confirmed the fear of that was always lurking in the back of her mind.

“Then let us rebuild it. Together. Jon, if this is because you would feel disgusted sharing a bed with me or that I would be disgusted, you are wrong. Father always wanted me to be someone who was kind, caring, and would never try to hurt me.”

“Father would not want this.” He said. Jon couldn’t help the feelings they kept him away from her. The two nights he spent in the beginning when she first came, clutching her hand as she lay lifeless from lack of sleep and lack of care, shook him to the bone. Knowing full well, he never really viewed her as sister, but knew he somehow had to protect this woman in front of him. It wasn’t love. No, but he knew with time He would love her. Just how Ned had learned to love Catelyn. The respect for the women she had become was already there.

“Father would want us in Winterfell. Where we belong.” Sansa said. “I may not love you on our wedding day, but I think someday love with come to us like how it came to my mother and father.” She said again wrapping the hand that was on his shoulder around the back of his neck. The tips of her pointer and middle fingers curling around the end of his hair. Jon felt himself shiver under fingers. His own arms wrapping around her waist. She felt right to him. Fitting into his body perfectly. Every angle seemed right. Yes it was very possible to fall in love with her, the thought entered into his mind as he nodded his head.

“I promise I will take you home. I will agree to the marriage as well.”

“Home.” She said placing her forehead on his.

“Home.” He repeated. And in that moment everything seemed like it was going to be okay.