Hey everyone, sorry for my absence. Basically, this is the first of a few stories that I am uploading that I forgot to upload here on , but uploaded ages ago on AO3. I am currently writing a new story that will be ready for upload soon, but until then, I hope you enjoy all of the stories I wrote a while ago and am about to upload.

This one will be a multi chapter fic, but each chapter is a different story. These were done for Jonsa Week in 2017, so there will be 7 chapters, each with a different prompt.

Chapter 1 is Day 1: Soulmates.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Sansa Stark dropped to her knees in heartbreak. She didn't need anyone to tell her, she knew Jon was dead. She cursed him; it was so typical of him to make a sacrifice to defeat the Night King, thinking of others before himself. Why couldn't you just be selfish for once? Heartbroken, Sansa prayed to the Old Gods and the New, begging them to return her Jon.

"Please, if anyone can hear me. Please let him come back to me. I need him here. I can't imagine my life without him. I love him." Sansa spent the rest of the night sobbing, and spent the rest of her life waiting for the Gods to answer her plea. Little did she know that her plea was answered, and that she and Jon would have many lives, always intertwined, neither of them remembering their pasts, but always destined to find one another.

9th Century AD Saxon Britain-The Viking Invasion

Jon knew that the Saxons of England viewed every man on longboats as savages coming from Denmark to raid the land, kill everyone and enslave children. He had hated that. Despite being raised in their ways, Jon often felt distant from the traditional 'Viking' way. They weren't truly savages, but he supposed that to anyone facing invasion, the invaders have come to destroy their way of life.

In truth, Jon was happy that they had left Denmark, and he had only heard great things about England. He was anticipating a new chapter in his life, providing that he survived the battles he faced, and he was sure there would be many. England was scattered with kingdoms, each with a King who would not easily surrender his kingdom.

He had fought already, with the Danish successfully capturing the Kingdoms of Northumbria, East Angles and after settling in Yorvik, their attention was turned towards Wessex. Alfred the Great, as he was called, was smart, and knew that the Danes would fail if they attacked Wessex now, so with the rest of the army, Jon was forced to wait.

A flash of red caught Jon's eye and he spotted a young woman walking by, a Saxon woman spared and now used as a slave. She was treated well as far as Jon knew. Alhough the Danes had a bad reputation, they weren't as brutal as they were made out to be. Jon saw something drop from the girl's arms and went over to pick it up.

"Excuse me, you dropped something." The girl turned around and Jon caught his breath. She's beautiful, he thought. She must have noticed he was staring because she coughed slightly, but Jon couldn't help his staring…he felt like he knew her.

"I'm sorry. I-I just feel like I know you." She smiled slightly, laughing gently at his admission.

"That's unlikely. I've lived here all my life; you and the rest of the Danes have only just arrived." Jon couldn't even respond, left speechless by her beauty. She had the most perfect red hair, and blue eyes that he managed to get lost in. Rather than speaking and making a fool of himself, he simply handed the piece of clothing back to her.

"Thank you, my lord."

"I'm not a Lord, just a soldier." He wished he had said nothing as her face grew angry.

"You're just a soldier, that's right. Invading our lands and killing my father and his men." Jon had not expected that. He had been told that the women of England did not speak out against men, and he found himself surprised that this Saxon woman was more like a Dane. "You and all your evil soldiers have taken everything from me."

"We are not bad people. I'm not a bad person. I'm just following orders."

"Like that's an excuse. Following orders includes killing every man fighting to defend their country. Invading lands that don't belong to you. Half of the Danes here are like savages." She was clearly upset, but Jon wanted to defend his people.

"The Romans invaded England first, and then your own people, the Saxons followed them, killing and invading a land that wasn't theirs. And now we are here, but someone will follow us. It's just the way of life. I don't take pride in it, I hate killing people, especially people who are defending their homes, but I didn't choose this. I'm only doing as I'm told, or I'll be killed."

She seemed to soften as he spoke, seemingly understanding that both of them were not in the best of positions.

"I'm sorry I judged you…" She trailed off, and Jon realised she was waiting for a name.

"Jon, my name is Jon."

"I'm Sansa."

"Sansa," Jon sounded out. It felt strangely familiar, even natural, as he uttered it from his lips. "It suits you, it's a beautiful name." Jon did not miss the blush that appeared on her cheeks at his words.

The two of them had spent hours continuing to talk, sharing their stories of what had brought them to Yorvik. The day passed quickly, quicker than either of them had realised and the more they spoke, the more Jon felt he truly knew her from somewhere, but couldn't quite place it.

In this life, Jon and Sansa married to solidify the hold that the Vikings had on Yorvik. The two lived a happy, long life and were not plagued with sadness as they had been previously. Their time together ended when Jon slipped away peacefully one night, beneath the stars with Sansa's hand in his.

15th Century Tudor Britain-Wars of the Roses

The war between the House of Lancaster and the House of York had been in full swing since before Sansa was even born. Sansa was the daughter of Edmund Tudor and Margaret Beaufort, and as her father's half-brother, King Henry VI was her Uncle. She had a younger brother, Henry, who was also fighting in the war, fighting for their house.

As a woman, Sansa was always far away from the fighting, always under the protection of guards who worried that soldiers fighting for the House of York would use her as a weapon against the Lancasters. She was never allowed anywhere but the grounds of the palace, and while she had always loved the strolls around the forest, she now knew every tree, and longed for the fighting to stop so she could leave the area.

Of course, she knew that the war would go on until the matter of the crown was settled. She had thought it weird that men would fight over a crown and wondered if there was an easier way to settle the matter, but men seemed to love war as much as she loved the beautiful colours of the gardens. No matter how many lives it cost them, Sansa thought, bitterly.

"Excuse me, you dropped something." Sansa gasped, not knowing anyone was near her and turned around to see a young man holding something in his hand. She realised it was a letter that her brother had written to her, apologising for missing her birthday last month.

"My letter." She snatched it out of his hands, perhaps too forcibly. "Forgive me. This just means a lot to me."

"There's nothing to forgive, My Lady." The young man bowed at her, and she immediately took a liking to him. She took a good look at his dark hair and dark eyes. Why does he seem familiar?

"Have you been living at the palace long, sir?"

"I have always served the House of Lancaster, My Lady, but I have only been stationed here recently. I was injured during the war, and they felt I would be able to serve better protecting you and your family." She smiled at him then. So that's how I recognise him. Perhaps I have seen him around before. But she still felt the connection went deeper… she knew him, she knew she did.

She realised she had been staring at him for a while and was probably making him uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

"I'm Jon, My Lady. Jon Snow." He bowed at her and then took her hand and kissed it. His lips were soft on the back of her hand, and she blushed slightly, silently cursing how easily her face goes red.

"I am Sansa." He chuckles slightly and she found that she enjoyed his smile.

"Forgive me, My Lady, but I already knew that." They were silent for a minute, not knowing what to say to each other and when they both spoke up, it was at the same time.

"I should leave you, My Lady."

"Would you like to walk with me, Jon?"

Sansa was slightly upset that he was going to leave, and immediately retracted her offer.

"Very well, goodbye Jon. It was nice to meet you." Just as she turned to leave he surged forward and put his hand on her arm to stop her. He removed it immediately as if her arm burned his hand, but he looked her in the eye.

"I would like to walk with you, My Lady. But I am just a soldier. I am not supposed to be escorting ladies around the grounds." He looked self-depreciatingly at her, upset himself that he could not walk with her. But Sansa simply placed her hand at the crook of his arm and started walking.

"I should like to walk with you, Jon. And you should never refuse a lady." She looked at him and laughed, and he returned that laugh. He had a beautiful smile and she made it her mission to make sure it remained on his face.

"As you wish, My Lady."

"Please, call me Sansa." They spent hours arm in arm, walking around the gardens, just talking about anything that came to their heads. He escorted her back to the palace before darkness fell, not wanting to alarm anyone.

"I had a wonderful day, My L-Sansa."

"So did I, Jon. I hope to see you again tomorrow." Suddenly, she kissed him lightly on the lips and smiled when she pulled back and then headed back to her room in the palace. When she got to her room, she went to the balcony and watched him as he walked back to the gardens. She simply could not take her eyes off him.

Sansa would not see Jon again for several months as he was asked to return to war, House of Lancaster needing more men. She cried for several days when he left, and prayed that he returned.

He did return, and as a hero. Her brother Henry was crowned the new King at the end of the war and upon his return to the palace, revealed that Jon saved his life during a battle. He elevated Jon to a powerful Lord and Jon asked for Sansa's hand in marriage. Having struck up a good friendship with his rescuer, Henry accepted, and Jon and Sansa were married, living happily for many years.

1863 United States-The American Civil War

Yesterday Jon had fought at Gettysburg, fighting for the Union against the Confederates. In just one day, he had seen so many good men fall, even men he didn't know, men who had parents, wives, children…so many lives lost. Jon knew there would be a battle again today, and the thought of it made him sick.

It was hard enough that he was so far from home. Pennsylvania was miles away from Illinois, where he was born and raised. On top of the distance was the fact that Jon just did not enjoy the thought that he had killed people, men who had once been fellow Americans. But Jon knew his duty, and knew that the Confederacy had to be stopped, that the cause he was fighting for was the right one: keeping his country together and opposing slavery.

Walking around, Jon saw several nurses attending to the wounded men from both sides. Men had limbs missing, blood oozing from cuts, and Jon stumbled to get away from the smell of rotting corpses.

He watched as one of the nurses walked towards a new patient, but something dropped out of her pocket. Walking over to the bandage, he picked it up and approached her.

"Excuse me, you dropped something." She turned around and Jon was able to get a good look at her. She was covered in blood, but that did not take away her beauty. She had long red hair that was messy from walking on this field and blue eyes which gazed into his own.

"Thank you, I need that. Would you mind helping me?" He handed the bandage to her and sat next to her. "Hold his leg while I wrap it up please."

Jon held the leg of the injured man, reassuring him that he was going to be okay. He watched as the nurse wrapped his leg in the bandage. After she had finished, she turned to him.

"Thank you, soldier."

"Jon. My name is Jon."

"Thank you, Jon. I am Sansa." Sansa. Jon recognised that name from somewhere, perhaps someone he had passed by. It wasn't a common name, but it was a pretty one, it suited her. "You're a Union soldier."

"Yes, I'm from Illinois. We don't support the actions of the Confederacy."

"I'm from New York, neither do I. But as a human being I can't allow the injured Confederates to suffer, so I treat all wounded soldiers." She looked upset, realising the horrors of war, so Jon took her hand in his to offer her some comfort.

"You do right. I don't like killing. They're humans, they're only following orders. No one should have to die because the most powerful disagree with each other."

"You're kind, you have a good heart. Most of the soldiers are different to you."

"I like to think my parents raised me right. To be good, respectful, especially to women." Jon looked deep into Sansa's eyes and brought his hand to her cheek. Not usually one for such forward advances, Jon thought that perhaps he was no different to other men, and that the lust of battle caught him too. But it was Sansa who brought her lips to his and his brain froze, thinking only of her lips.

Jon could count on one hand the amount of times he had been kissed, he wasn't particularly good with the ladies, never quite knowing what to say when he saw a pretty girl. Apparently, he just had to be himself, for Sansa stayed with him for the rest of the nights in Gettysburg and continued to follow him as he moved, fighting different battles.

After fighting all day, Jon would return to his tent to find Sansa there, comforting him through his nightmares and loving him more than anyone ever had before.

Their love was built on passion, but there were strong feelings, feelings neither of them could explain, as if an invisible force was pulling them together, and they remained together as often as possible.

Unfortunately, their love in this lifetime was cut short as Jon was killed in battle in 1865, not long before the fighting drew to a close. Their love was short, but it was powerful, and a devastated Sansa managed to find love in a baby boy, with Jon's dark hair and dark eyes, whom she named after his father, the father he would never meet.

1912-The Titanic

Sansa was easily pleased, she admitted that, but this ship was something else entirely, unlike anything she had ever seen. The plan was to travel from Southampton to New York, and start a new life in America, far away from her troubles in England. She was wealthy enough to be in First Class, which meant that everything was even more extravagant than she thought it would be.

Her room for the trip was far larger than her bedroom at home, the ornate furniture and decoration making her feel that she was a Queen. And it wasn't just the bedrooms which were beautiful, the dining rooms, ball room and practically every inch of the ship had exquisite detail.

She found herself walking to the deck of the ship, enjoying the gentle breeze and spectacular views of the ocean, and England in the background, becoming smaller every second. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of the open ocean when a voice interrupted her peace.

"Excuse me, you dropped something." Sansa turned around and saw a man near her own age holding her bracelet that must have dropped off her wrist without her knowing. She took it from him and as their hands brushed, electricity rushed through her.

"Thank you, that bracelet is important to me." He walked towards her and leaned against the railings just as she was, watching as the ship glided along the ocean.

"What is taking you to America?" he asked amiably.

"I want a new life away from here. America is the best place to go to get that." It was a short but true version. She didn't particularly feel like indulging her life story to a complete stranger…even one who seemed vaguely familiar. "You?"

"I have family over there. Family I've never met. Managed to save up for a good room and decided to travel over there. I'm Jon by the way."

"Sansa." He kissed her hand after she introduced herself and she was glad to note that chivalry wasn't quite dead yet. She found herself attracted to Jon, he had curly dark hair and brown eyes that were easy to get lost in, displaying emotions that the rest of his face didn't show. His closely shaven beard made him even more handsome and by the time the two of them had returned inside, Sansa had agreed to have a meal with him the following day.

She wore her best dress and did her hair as well as she could, something which Jon noticed when he knocked on her door, offering her flowers as he did so.

"Sansa, you look wonderful. Your hair is beautiful." Sansa was always prone to blushing and did so before looking Jon up and down. He was wearing a suit which fit him perfectly, making him look incredibly handsome.

"You don't look so bad yourself." He chuckled lightly at that, and offered her his arm, walking her to the dining room and paying a lot of money for a ridiculously expensive meal. She had a wonderful time, and found herself truly falling for Jon, despite barely knowing him.

After the meal, he escorted her into the ball room and extended his hand.

"Ma'am, may I have this dance?" She laughed at his formality and nearly jumped into his arms, dancing fast and slow to the music until the early hours of the morning. Following the dance, they returned to the spot which they first met yesterday, and it was there that they shared their first kiss.

Sansa didn't believe in fate, but a part of her thought that Jon was meant to find her bracelet, like they were connected somehow. They had only just met, but she loved him, and he loved her.

But this lifetime was destined to end in tragedy as the unsinkable ship hit an iceberg and split in half before completely submerging. Three days later, Jon woke up, disorientated but alive, only to find the name 'Sansa Stark' listed under deceased. And so their love was cut short by disaster.

1942 World War Two, Auschwitz-Birkenau

Jon offered his prayers once more that someone would come along and save them. He couldn't understand why he was in these camps, he was German, his mother and father were German, but they had been killed, he knew they had been killed. Jon was only ten, but he was also intelligent, and knew that with more and more people arriving daily, people had to be dying as well. He hadn't seen his parents for weeks, he feared that they were among those were killed.

He was in a place they called Auschwitz and it had been doom and gloom since the moment he arrived. His family were Jews and he knew that Jews had been rounded up, but he thought as German-Jews, his family may be spared. He was wrong. He had been with the other children, hundreds of them, all wearing the same striped clothing and all with a number marked on them.

Jon spotted a girl who looked a little bit younger than him walking across the yard, attending her duties. Most of the people here had dark hair, but hers was as dark as Jon's favourite flower from home. Even in the pouring rain Jon thought her hair was the prettiest he'd ever seen.

Something dropped from her pocket, but she didn't seem to notice as she carried on walking. Jon tried not to draw attention to himself, but he ran after her, picking up what appeared to be a piece of paper and following her, trying to get her attention.

"Excuse me, you dropped something." She turned around and saw the paper in his hand and her eyes grew wide, almost looking worried. Without warning, she grabbed the paper and threw her arms around him.

"Thank you, thank you. I was supposed to give this to one of the generals. They would cuff me if they found out I lost it." Jon's lips turned up, a sad kind of smile, knowing she spoke the truth. She, like him, had only been spared because they can work for the guards, doing stuff that some of the adults are too busy to do, the easier jobs, but one mistake would cost their lives.

"No problem. I'm Jon, I'm ten. Who are you?"

"Sansa and I'm nine. Shall we be friends?" Jon nodded eagerly. He had no friends in here and was glad to have on, and Sansa seemed really nice, but he was still confused as to why she was here.

"Why are you here? You don't look Jewish." Jon was old enough to know that no one really 'looks' Jewish, but most people who were here because they were Jews had dark hair and dark eyes, and Sansa had neither.

"I'm not. But they think my father is, or was. He might be dead. And my mother as well" Sansa said, her voice shaking slightly.

"My parents are dead too." They both looked sad and so Jon decided to hold her hand, because when his mother used to hold his hand, it made everything better, so maybe if he held Sansa's hand, she would feel better too.

Sansa told him she had to leave to give the letter to the guard at one of the stations, but she promised she would find him tomorrow, and she did. Jon and Sansa continued to be the best of friends, always trying to spend as much time with each other, but not drawing much attention to themselves in case the guards tried to separate them.

They made games to play, really simple games but they were fun and the two of them laughed all the time...as much as they could while they were in the camp. Jon was happier than he had been since he came to Auschwitz, and he liked to think that Sansa was too. She was a beacon of light in the darkest period of his life. He only hoped that one day they would be able to leave. Together.

It was easy to lose track of days, but Jon would always ask one of the guards what the date was. He tried to choose one of the nicer ones, but even so the guard had little time for him, and always sneered at him, telling him what the date was. Jon had asked Sansa when her birthday was. When she told him it was the 7th of June, he made sure that on her birthday, she would have a great day, even in such a horrible place.

So when the 7th of June came, Jon met Sansa early, and played all her favourite games in secret, making sure the guards couldn't see them. Then, when it was time for food, Jon went without for the day. A silly decision perhaps, but he wanted her to be happy and so gave it to her. And it was worth it, because Sansa gave him the biggest smile ever.

"You're really pretty when you smile," Jon said to her, and she smiled even more.

"So are you."

"Boys aren't pretty. Boys are supposed to be handsome." They both laughed until the end of the day, and then returned to their previous routine. Jon couldn't help but think that only Sansa could make him laugh in a place like this.

After two years of seeing each other every day, the day they knew was coming came. They were dragged from their beds and pushed into a chamber. They managed to find each other and as the gas was poured on them, they held on to each other, tightly, and their potential love was ended before it had begun.

2017-Modern Day England

Walking down the streets of London was still weird to Sansa. Being from a small town in the North, she struggled to get used to the bulging city life that University offered her. Too many cars and too many people, she missed the simple life that the country offered her. It wasn't that London was a bad place, it was just that she preferred the peace and quiet.

She had been walking for about half an hour when she heard a voice from behind her speak up.

"Excuse me, you dropped something."

Sansa turned around to see that a young man was holding her purse which must have dropped onto the floor.

"Thank you, you have no idea how much trouble I would be in if I lost this." He smiled at her then and she took a good look at him. He was handsome and looked like a lost soul in many ways. There was something about him that she recognised, he seemed somewhat familiar but she couldn't quite place where. Sansa didn't know that destiny had just led her to her future husband.