Sansa I

She took comfort in the warmth Jon's hand seemed to flood her with. As if sensing her thoughts, he squeezed her hand reassuringly.

Neither wanted to speak, walking down the halls of Winterfell, simply content to bask in each other's presence. The silence only held until halfway to her father's solar, and only when Sansa had confirmed there was no one close enough to eavedrop did she speak. "We need to be seen separate after this."

Jon winced, as if the notion of such a thing was physically harmful, and Sansa wholeheartedly concurred, because it was painful.

The first time in years they had seen each other since King's Landing, the first time she had actually felt warm since the North gained independence, and soon they would have to return to their cold, distant ways, at least in public.

Not for the first time, she wondered why her mother couldn't have loved Jon.

"No, I understand," Jon said, breaking through Sansa's thoughts. "We need to keep up pretenses, make them think everything is normal Doesn't mean I have to like it, though, Jon grumbled, and Sansa smiled.

Of all the possibilities of what could have happened after she died, being transported back in time was something she had never expected. She had woken up on her bed, in the room she had slept in while Ramsay held Winterfell, and screamed.

When her father burst through the door besides her mother, she had cried, clinging to them for an amount of time lost to her.

At the time she had brushed of their concerns siting nightmares, and she had fallen into a fitful sleep.

It was only after she woke up that she truly came to terms with her predicament, and desired to make the most of the time given to her. She had attend the morning meal stoic but light-hearted, and her happiness only increased when she finally reach the Great Hall.

Robb, Rickon, Theon, Arya, Bran, Mother, Father… all alive and well.

She intended to keep it that way.

She was also like-mindedly determined to take her secrets to the grave, greatly disliking the idea of burdening her family with her knowledge.

So, like everything else she had done since King's Landing, she prepared to save her family alone.

And then Jon stumbled into the Great Hall.

She couldn't believe it at first; after all, what were the chances of him being in the same predicament as her?

But then he sat down and embraced his family as if he had not seen them in years. Still, she hadn't been sure. She hoped, but the Old Gods seemed to take delight in robbing her of even that, so she buried that hope.

Then he looked at her, and that hope resurfaced with a vengeance a thousandfold multiplied.

Sansa was snapped out of her thoughts as Jon nudged her, and she was a tad bit surprised to find they were already outside her Father's solar. Down the hall, they could here the Lord Paramount's footsteps echoing, so both she and Jon entered the solar. Without speaking any words, they dragged the chairs they would be seated in away from each other, and sat. Jon instantly took the aura of brooding, whilst Sansa put on an embarrassed front.

She hated it, but it would be easier to explain going to Jon in a moment of weakness than telling her Lord Father she had embraced the man she had not seen in years.

The one she had thought was dead.

...

...

...

After giving her (admittedly) semi-decent alibi, Sansa exited the solar and instinctively looked downwards to the right. There was a slip of parchment, and she picked it up.

We should talk soon. The Heart Tree, midnight.

She nodded to herself, ripped the parchment to shreds, dropped it out of a window. Pausing for a moment, she turned towards the courtyard. There was someone she wanted to talk to, someone taken by Baelish years ago.

She wondered, offhandedly, if Jeyne Poole would recognize the Sansa she had once been.

Jon I

He collapsed in front of the Heat Tree and cried. It was far to much to take in, even for him.

When he had died the second time, he had been expecting to burn in the Seven Hells for his follies. Instead, he found himself in a pseudo-heaven where his family was alive, and Sansa remembered.

And unlike his first resurrection, he felt whole. Whatever had gone wrong when R'holler had brought him back had been undone, and for the first time in years he felt like himself.

Well, mostly. He missed Ghost.

He could still fell the unborn direwolf, somewhere in the North in the womb of its mother, but he also felt something else.

Older. Familiar.

He would have to explore that at some point. He wouldn't feel that call if it wasn't for nothing. The Old Gods obviously don't deal in loose ends.

He wasn't sure how long he spent kneeling in front of the Heart Tree, only stirring from his half-prayer-half-sleeping state when he heard Robb calling for him. He strode out of the Godswood where Robb and Theon were both waiting.

"Did we interrupt anything?" Robb asked; he knew Jon held to the Old Gods just as he did. "We can wait a few more minutes."

Jon shook his head. "I've finished my prayers. You called?"

Theon scoffed. "Did you forget we had training, Snow? I mean, come on!"

"I did, actually. I've had an… interesting day. Still a good day, though." Jon grinned at both Robb and Theon, to the latter's surprise. "...What's gotten into you today, Snow? Sansa hugging you, you being more friendly with me? You eat a bad mushroom or something?"

"Something." Jon replied. Then he paused, and looked at Theon with an unreadable stare. "...You know you're like a brother to us, right, Theon?"

The statement obviously threw the Ironborn in for a loop, as he stared at Jon. Not getting why Jon was bringing it up, Robb interjected himself anyways. "You do know that, right Theon?"

"I…" the Grejoy looked lost. "You… really think of me as your brother?"

"Of course we do, you dunce! We were raised together!" Robb cried in exasperation. "You're my brother, Stark or not." He clasped Theon's shoulder, and gave it a squeeze. "Now come on, you two. Ser Cassel will skin us alive for being late." With that, the heir walked off, leaving Theon and Jon trailing after him. Theon shot Jon a look, and the Dragonwolf gave a thumbs up, backing Robb's earlier words.

Theon smiled. "Let's hurry, Snow. Wouldn't want to be late for your beating."

"I'll make you eat those words, Greayjoy," Jon grinned, and the two sped up after Robb.

Heaven indeed.