Sansa smiled as Ramsay gave off another blood-curdling scream as the dragon dug into his abdomen. She finally had her revenge and Ramsay was suffering for what he had done to her. Jon had given her the revenge she so desperately craved and he was making Ramsay suffer in the most unbearable agony possible. He was being eaten alive, a fitting punishment for a thing that had liked to wear the skins of his victims. The man who had worn the skin of her own brother and his wife around his shoulders. The man who had raped her deserved all of this suffering and worst still.

Sansa couldn't look away from the Dragon enjoying its snack. Ramsay's chest was torn open as the dragon munched away on his insides. He was screaming the entire time, more than he had ever made her scream even. The dragon was brutal and did not care about the bastard's pain. He was getting what he deserved, Sansa only wished that she could be down there and watch as the light finally left his cruel grey eyes. Alas, Sansa was not suicidal enough to try to get near a dragon while it was eating.

No one was, well no one but Jon who had while Sansa was distracted by Ramsay's suffering not only had gotten the Northern Men to bend the knee but the Lannisters as well by promising them the wall. He was on the ground now, ignoring the know kneeling men in favor of approaching the dragon as Ramsay finally had fallen silent, dead at last. His last minutes filled with suffering beyond comprehension.

Sansa had thought Jon had lost it when he told her that he had a dragon waiting for his command to win the battle. She had gone along with his plan because there was no other choice at that point. She wouldn't let Jon blame her for his failures again.

If they had more time, Sansa might have even given in and written to Lord Baelish begging for aid in the battle. She had trusted Jon to know what he was doing like he had asked her to do, feeling guilty over how she had unknowingly foiled his first plot. Jon might not care for her or himself but he cared for Rickon at the very least and wouldn't have left Rickon at Last Hearth if he hadn't planned on winning their battle. He had told her that he had another army coming and Sansa had trusted him to be telling the truth. She figured that he must have offered the position of Hand of the King to Arianne Martell or something of the ilk in exchange for their aid. She had thought he might have taken on the name Blackfyre as a Targaryen bastard to secure the services of the Golden Company. She thought his confidence had been more than just false bravado. She had trusted him to know what he was doing.

She thought that Jon had betrayed that trust when he, like Robb had chosen his love for someone else over the tactically wise decision of marrying someone for political gain. She had thought that Jon's decision to marry Daenerys Targaryen and give up half of his kingdom for her was solely born out of a mistaken sense of love for the Queen of Slavers Bay because they had exchanged letters. She had thought Jon was a fool when he said that she agreed to send him a dragon for his war, a fool who had been duped into trusting a pretty face just like Robb had.

She had been wrong. Daenerys Targaryen clearly at least reciprocated some of Jon's feelings and was comfortable sharing half the Kingdom with her nephew if she had sent a dragon to save his life. Sansa had misjudged her, and she had misjudged Jon. Somehow they had managed to communicate and plan all of this despite being on opposite sides of the narrow sea where communications shouldn't be possible at the speed in which they appeared to have communicated yet clearly they had done so. Had Jon known of his heritage before he had come back from the dead? It seemed impossible but it almost had to be true for him to have formed such a strong bond with Daenerys Targaryen and her dragon while trapped in the North with her in Essos.

My Daenerys and my dragon Jon had called Daenerys Targaryen and the dragon apparently named Rhaegal his own. They could not be complete strangers, Jon was never possessive of anything as a child; even Sansa as distant as she had been of Jon had known that. He thought he had no right to own anything of his own. He didn't refer to Sansa as my sister verbally or even the wildlings as his. It was always sister or Sansa, and when he was upset with her it was just cousin now. He never got possessive of her or Rickon or anyone else really, aside from Arya- at least verbally. Except for that one time when he had called Sansa my sister when speaking of how awful arranged marriages were.

He had stuttered there, was he originally thinking of his Targaryen bride who had once been wed to a Dothraki Khal when he said that? Was changing course to my sister just an effort to cover up his deeper relationship with the Targaryen woman?

Jon clearly had some romantic entanglements with Daenerys Targaryen in spite of what he claimed about their marriage being for politics alone. Sansa was admittedly convinced that marrying Daenerys Targaryen might be the best political decision if she truly had three dragons which after seeing the one that Jon claimed ownership of, she did believe was now the case. Armies were never truly secured and could be replaced. Dragons were clearly theirs and the only ones

How had Jon got involved with Daenerys Targaryen while he was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch? He hadn't gone galvanizing off to Essos while he was bound to Castle Black or else that would mean he had broken his vows and would have never been made Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. Someone would have said something while they were at the wall to either say something about Jon's trip to Essos or Daenerys Targaryen's visit to the wall. The latter was even more unlikely as word of Jon and Daenerys interacting would have spread like wildfire across all the seven kingdoms if she would ever visit the wall for even a single day. A dragon flying over Westeros wouldn't have gone completely unknown by everyone.

There was no plausible way for them to have met already and for Jon to have met Rhaegal as he claimed to have done, it simply wasn't possible. Jon could not be in two places at once; even if he could walk through the fire, summon a dragon and come back from the dead, he was not a god. So how had Jon planned all this with his bride? Sansa had to be missing something here. It couldn't just be letters that lead to this.

How had Jon managed to show the dragon where to attack and when? She wasn't the most familiar on the lore of Dragonriders as she had always preferred the tales of honorable knights rescuing the damsel in distress; over those of dragons like Arya had studied so religiously. Sansa was almost certain that dragons didn't communicate telepathically with their riders or else they wouldn't have been needed on the dragon's back.

How had the dragon known which one was Ramsay? Even if Jon could mentally communicate with the dragon, Jon hadn't known until Sansa told him. Jon had even had his eyes closed during the dragon's savage display of power. He couldn't have directed him towards Ramsay when he couldn't even see where Ramsay was at the time. Somehow the dragon had known and clearly obeyed Jon's commands to the letter despite him never speaking towards the dragon. It was almost as if Jon was the dragon but that was impossible.

But was it really? Sansa had never found myths to strike her fancy but she like every northerner had heard of wargs in legends. Men who could wear the skin of another beast and dictate that animal's actions. They were just a legend, or at least Sansa had thought they were but it seemed like all of the legends were now, in fact, real.

Dragons roamed the world, something that despite the lengthy histories, some maesters tried to claim never even existed. Magic, again something considered fictional by the citadel had restored her brother to life; another impossible feat. Fire was supposed to burn, it was common knowledge that everything and everyone knelt to the flames but Jon was the exception and allegedly his Targaryen bride as well. Even the Others were real according to Jon. Myths seemed to be coming to life all around her, so why shouldn't wargs be real also?

If they were real and Jon truly was one with his dragon then his actions towards Daenerys Targaryen logically made more sense. He might truly know that his Queen was as good as he claimed if he had observed her as a dragon. It would explain how he knew that Theon was in Meereen as well, sworn in service to Daenerys Targaryen. His spy network had risen up so quickly with seeds in the camps of his enemies, enough to tip him off to the Whitehill's planned betrayal even. How he had known the Umbers had Rickon at Last Hearth? Not because he actually had spies of his own but because he was a warg and had spied on them with a simple bird or something of the like. Jon could know everything that anyone ever said if he was a warg, able to inhabit the minds of animals and learn all that they knew.

There was no reason for Jon to not have the utmost of confidence in all his endeavors when he could find out anything that anyone had spoken aloud. That was a terrifying thought, she couldn't say anything to anyone without her brother knowing about it. On one hand, it made his victory in his quest to claim the Iron Throne inevitable but it also meant that Sansa would never be able to keep anything a secret from him. He likely already knew what she had done, the one thing she tried to keep a secret. She had cried to herself about it while with Theon after escaping Winterfell. She had told the one person she had thought would understand and he had. But now Jon knew as well and had yet to say anything. Why? Was keeping his superpower a secret that important to him? She had betrayed her family. She had betrayed her father and betrayed the Starks with that one action.

Sansa shook her self and went to go find Jon, she would not find answers here. She would have to confront him about it and force him to be honest with her. They were family and Sansa would not abandon him as she had done so as children and threatened to do again. Ramsay was dead and Jon had given her her revenge. That was enough for Sansa to want to trust him and see him on the throne, she had wanted to be Queen as a little girl but she was not that same girl. Sansa was content just serving alongside her brother, the King. If Jon was being honest about the line of succession then she would do so as the Lady of Winterfell and his Warden of the North. That was enough for her.

Sansa did believe in Jon and this new world he claimed he and Daenerys Targaryen were going to build together. A world where a woman had a place alongside any man and a world where a little girl would never be sold to someone as cruel as Ramsay or Joffrey as she had been. It was an idealistic dream and before today, Sansa might have called it impossible but Jon had developed a habit of doing what Sansa considered impossible. Perhaps his new world he wanted to build wasn't just a dream. Sansa would support him every step of the way, in seeing his dream achieved. She would give up trying to undermine him and sabotage his efforts. He had given her everything she wanted without asking a thing in return from her. She would do her best to return the favor. Even if it was his aunt that he wanted she would do her best to help achieve his heart's desire.

Sansa descended down the stairs to the courtyard below with Brienne trailing behind her as her shadow, not comfortable leaving her side even after the Lannisters had surrendered and the Northerners had tried to crown Jon. Together they exited through the gates and on to the remarkably dry ground outside. Tormund was loudly barking orders at the wildlings as they put the Lannister men in shackles and then cages to be transferred back to the wall. She watched with satisfaction as Jamie Lannister was shoved into a cell with no care for being gentle with the man who had murdered their King's Grandfather, although she doubted that the wildlings understood just who Jon's grandfather had been.

Brienne stirred beside her and her hand came to rest on top of the lion head pommel of the sword Jamie Lannister had given her to protect Sansa as he had promised her mother. She glanced over at Jon who was stroking the head of his dragon on grass that was smoldering without any care for anyone other than himself and his dragon. Then she looked back at Ser Jamie. She sighed audibly. She didn't particularly want to get close to Jon's dragon anyways and she did in a way owe Ser Jamie her life. Perhaps, she should at least make sure he was treated at an acceptable level for a hostage of such high value.

"What are you doing?" Sansa scowled at a wildling who was trying to remove the Kingslayer's golden hand to keep as his own treasure or something equally barbaric. "Stop that!" She ordered

The wildling ignored her, clearly not caring for the King's sister's authority. He fumbled with the hooks in Jamie's skin as he tried to rip the hand off his body. Sansa noticed Brienne tense beside her as Jamie Lannister groaned in pain as he tugged on it. Sansa wanted to revel in the pain of the man who's son had executed her father but she also owed the Kingslayer her life and she felt obligated to do something to help him.

"I order you to leave Ser Jamie Lannister alone!" Sansa told the wildling in a snobbish tone.

The wildling took a step away from Ser Jamie and one closer to her. "Oh yeah?" He asked as he advanced on her. "What're you going to do about it girlie?" He asked and took another step towards her, close enough that she could smell his rotten breath even through the thick smoke that surrounded them.

Brienne tensed beside her and stepped in the wildlings path. Her hand pulled Oathbreaker from its scabbard, halfway; brandishing the steel to the wildling. "Lady Sansa told you to leave him alone." She said quietly and fiercely, ready to defend her if the wildling tried anything.

For a moment Sansa feared that he would actually do something stupid and reckless and try to attack her. She wondered if her desire to repay her debt to the Kingslayer would lead to her being injured or even killed. Wouldn't that be an ironic way to repay him saving her life?

Tormund thankfully dissolved the situation when he came storming over. "Baric!" He hollered. "Leave the woman alone! That's King Dragon's bloody sister. She ain't want nothing to do with your lot."

The gruff scraggly man took a step back and snarled before turning tail and fleeing to go loot someone else. "I don't actually care about golden hand anyways,'' he quietly muttered to himself as he stalked off.

Tormund turned to address Sansa once he was out of earshot. "You know this one? Is he one of our spies or something?"

Sansa blinked owlishly at Tormund's confusion and then couldn't stop herself from giggling. Why did she think the wildlings would know who the King Slayer was? They had no idea of what the sigil's adorning his helm meant nor the dishonorable acts that he had committed. They lived north of the Wall all their lives until now, separate from their Westerosi politics. Did they even know that Jon's grandfather had been a King?

"That is Ser Jamie Lannister, the Kingslayer. He murdered Jon's grandfather who he saw sworn to protect. He is also the father of King Tom- the man who currently sits on Jon's throne. He is a valuable hostage and should be treated with some dignity. We need him alive and whole."

"That's Ser Jamie Lannister?" Tormund guffawed. "The Kingslayer is some frail little stick of a man? I could snap him in half with my bare hands." Perhaps they did know at least some of the story of Jon's cruel and evil ancestors.

"If I still had my hand, you wouldn't last five seconds against me." Ser Jamie snarled. His actions were entirely unhelpful in Sansa's attempts to save his life.

"He has value as a hostage," Sansa repeated stubbornly. "He needs to be kept separate from the rest. He will not go the wall with the rest of the prisoners. King Jon can make better use of him here."

Tormund scratched his beard and seemed to be considering it before finally nodding his assent. "Alright, where does Jon want this one?"

Sansa thought over it for a minute. Where would Jon want the Kingslayer? She knew very little about how Jon felt when it came to his birth family. He cared for Daenerys and apparently Maester Aemon but what about the rest of them? She could feel her cheeks redden at that realization, she had been too caught up in her desire to see Ramsay dead to truly try to get to know her brother. She would do better in the future, they were the last of their family- well the Starks at least along with Rickon and hopefully still Arya.

She only knew that he was besotted with Daenerys Targaryen and had trusted Aemon Targaryen. She also knew that his dragon was apparently named Rhaegal, presumably after his father. Although if it had belonged to Daenerys Targaryen then it might have been her who named it and not Jon. Did Jon care that Ser Jamie had killed his grandfather? Or did he understand that his father and grandfather were evil men who deserved to die? Even if he did, would his betrothed demand Ser Jamie's execution in spite of his value to them alive? Would he cave to her demands?

She had never even tried to talk to him about how he felt regarding the Targaryens, that Ned was not his father, she had only been accusatory towards him. He had still given her what she had wanted more than anything despite her being awful towards him. She had to do better, she would be there for him in whatever capacity he needed from now on. For him and Rickon both, the lone wolf died but the pack survived and they were each other's pack now.

"Lock him in a cell in the dungeons beneath the keep." Sansa finally decided. "One of the larger and more well-kept ones. Make sure he has plenty of food and water, we can't have our hostage dying on us."

Tormund looked at her funny before nodding. "Ratrid! Groric!" Tormund hollered at two of the wildlings. "Come and help Sansa drag Ser Jamie to the dungeons to await King Dragon's verdict."

Brienne tensed from her spot in front of her. "We can take him ourselves," Brienne volunteered before her cheeks reddened rapidly. She turned to Sansa and dipped her head slightly. "If you would like, that is, My Lady."

Sansa sighed and glanced back at Jon who was still enamored with his dragon. "We can do that," She agreed. She wasn't particularly sure that she wanted to throw Ser Jamie in his cell personally but she knew Brienne cared for him in some way and she did owe him. She wouldn't chance him escaping, possibly with Brienne's help even or a wildling damaging his value as a hostage in some way.

Tormund frowned but nodded. "I have no doubt a beautiful strong lady like yourself can handle a puny man like him."

To Sansa's surprise rather than appear flattered at what seemed to be a genuine compliment, Brienne was angered. Perhaps at the insult to Ser Jamie? Was there more risk of Brienne betraying her to help Ser Jamie escape than she thought?

"I can," Brienne said curtly before grabbing onto Jamie's bicep and dragging him to his feet. He let out a grunt in pain as he was dragged along with Sansa following behind them. Brienne did not glance back at Tormund at all and she was hardly being gentle with Ser Jamie. Perhaps it really was that she was upset with the compliment. Brienne wasn't like Arya and offended anytime Sansa called her a lady so it seemed unlikely that she was upset about it? Did she think Tormund was mocking her?

"You don't have to drag me," Ser Jamie grumbled. "I can walk." For some reason, Brienne let go of his arm, and for a perhaps more surprising reason, Jamie made no attempt to flee even after she had let him go. Perhaps he assumed it was hopeless with a dragon outside. No, he had to just be waiting for the opportune time. There was no other explanation.

Sansa scowled at his back. "You are a prisoner, Ser. You don't get to do anything."

Ser Jamie turned towards her and smiled brightly, flashing his pearly white teeth. "It's good to see you, as well, Lady Sansa. I'm glad that Brienne was able to find you and you were able to find your way home safely."

Sansa frowned at the reminder that she owed the Kingslayer her life. He should have saved Arya as well, that's what he had promised her mother according to Brienne. She latched onto that idea like a lifeline not wanting to see him in any shades of gray. The Lannisters were vile and evil, dishonorable scum. He had failed. He was still the selfish and dishonorable, much-hated Kingslayer Lannister who Sansa held no warm feelings towards.

"Brienne," Sansa called her voice cold and emotionless. "Drag him, I won't risk him escaping on us."

Ser Jamie snorted at her and raised an eyebrow. "How do you think I could plan on escaping? Even if I could get to a horse and saddle it with my one hand, and outride whatever men your cousin sends after me; your cousin has a fucking dragon. If I tried to run I'd be burnt alive before I even make it a few miles. I do not plan on dying so I surrendered willingly and I'll remain the willing captive until the dragon is killed."

"Brother." Sansa corrected him. He was her brother in spite of what she had refused to see as children. Even if he was biologically her cousin, he was still her brother. "He doesn't just have one dragon, he has three," Sansa said coldly.

The shock and fear on Ser Jamie's face at that declaration almost made it worth the reprimand she would likely receive from Jon for sharing that. Jon would hate her again after she had betrayed his trust when he finally had told her something. Jamie was a prisoner so it hopefully wouldn't get out beyond him, or else Jon would truly be furious with her- even if he hadn't explicitly said to keep it a secret.

"Oh god," Jamie gasped and he stumbled. "He actually has three? We're all dead." He muttered quietly. He turned away from her and seemed to walk with some urgency as if he was eager to be imprisoned.

Brienne followed after him and Sansa trailed behind her, not entirely certain that Brienne wouldn't try to help her friend escape if she feared Jon would execute him.

"Did you know that King Jon had a dragon?" Lyanna Mormont asked her, for once looking a bit like the child she was with her enthusiasm at Jon having such a powerful weapon on the North's side.

Sansa pursed her lips, annoyed at having to answer the same question again. She had been asked it at least a dozen times by now. "I was aware that he had backup coming, a force that gave him enough confidence to think his victory was assured. I was not aware that he had a dragon as that backup."

Lyanna giggled slightly. "I can understand why he refused to divulge his plans now. If he had told us that he had a dragon than I would have believed him as mad as his Grandsire."

"I as well," Sansa agreed. She turned back towards the land outside the keep, intent on finding her brother and speaking with him finally. She had spent the last hour or so searching for him after leaving Ser Jamie behind in his cell with a few Slate men stationed outside as his guard. Jon had been lost in the throng of people, bustling about in the aftermath of the massacre. His dragon had taken off to who knows where while Sansa had been escorting Ser Jamie to his prison. Perhaps it went back to Daenerys Targaryen now that Jon was safe, or perhaps it was just getting food or something else of that ilk. Maybe Jon went with it and that's why she couldn't find him. Sansa hardly knew how a dragon behaved or even how Jon really behaved these days.

Of course, it certainly didn't help that the smoke was so thick in the air that she couldn't see much farther than a dozen yards away from her. The snow was finally sticking to the cooling ground outside again that had been ablaze only hours prior. There was a fresh layer underfoot, albeit only a few inches thick and the air was no longer dry and warm but more resembling the pleasant coolness of the North during the hottest days of the long summer which was still much colder than any day in the south. The sun had set and now the only illumination was the torches that were carried around as they still cleaned up the aftermath of the massacre.

"Where on earth did the King hatch a dragon? How could he do that while with the Night's Watch?" Lyanna asked; ignorant or Sansa's attempt to avoid her.

Sansa sighed. "His aunt, Daenerys Targaryen hatched him. Jon bonded with that one." Sansa hadn't been sure what Jon wanted her to reveal of his relationship with Daenerys or if she had sent it or if he had called it to him. She had settled for being as vague as possible while also being honest and consistent. Hopefully, Jon wouldn't get mad at her for sharing too much. As much as Jon might wish they could never tell anyone anything; they did have to give the Lords and Ladies at least a little for them to follow him.

"His aunt? The Mad King's daughter, she recognizes his claim over hers? The claim of a bastard?" Sansa said nothing, knowing that Jon had to be the one to break the news of their betrothal and plan to share power equally if it was to be accepted.

"That's one big fucking lizard!" A voice that unless Sansa was mistaken, belonged to the wildling that Jon had made his spymaster exclaimed eagerly. He had to be talking about the dragon right? Perhaps he knew that what Sansa suspected of Jon being a warg was true? If his spymaster knew Jon was a warg then did that mean he was one as well? She did wonder why Jon had unofficially appointed a wildling as being in charge of his spies in a land and with people that the wildling had no connection to or knowledge of. She hadn't thought that anyone other than Jon was a warg but could there be more than just him? At the very least he might know where Jon was surely, and if he was a warg then he would be able to find him for her.

"Were they talking to Jon? She could hardly make out the blurry figures but one of them vaguely resembled Jon and there was a flame near their head. She didn't even know if Jon was still wearing a crown, it was probably just someone holding a torch near their head.

Still, it gave Sansa an excuse to exit the conversation before she was asked more questions she couldn't answer. "If you'll excuse me, I need to speak with my brother," She said politely and quickly distanced herself from Lyanna to go back to searching for Jon.

She followed the voices from a distance as they conversed. "I trust you'll keep that between us? It's essential that this remain a secret." That sounded like Jon's voice although it might have been her imagination. He spoke quietly and Sansa had to strain her ears to hear what he was saying.

"Of course, Snow." The wildling replied. That had to be Jon, who else would they call Snow? It might be another bastard but it had to be Jon. She needed it to be him. "Not like anyone would believe me anyway. I tried to take it and it was like its mind didn't exist. Even humans you can grapple with their mind, fight for control, but that thing is like trying to take control of a rock."

Sansa's lips twitched as her suspicions were all but confirmed. He was cryptic enough that most wouldn't understand it but Sansa had already had her own suspicions and it was all the validation that she needed. Jon was a warg of his dragon and the wildling apparently was one as well. Of course, Jon had to be special there as well and be the only one able to warg a dragon, apparently. Jon could know everything that happened with his special abilities, they would know all their enemies' plans before they attacked. There was no chance he wasn't on the throne within a year as both a warg and with a dragon.

Sansa wanted to be honest with Jon after all that he had done for her. All he had ever asked for in return was her honesty and to get to know his sister. He wanted her trust. She couldn't eavesdrop on him and claim that she trusted him or was honest. "Jon!" She called out loudly, drawing his attention to her.

He somehow recognized her through the thick smoke and at a bit of a distance. "Sansa," He said in greeting. He turned back to the wildling; "If you'll excuse me Varamyr, I need to speak with my sister."

The wildling she now knew was named Varamyr bowed. "Of course, King Dragon."

Jon approached Sansa, closing the distance between them rapidly. He gently embraced her before pulling away. "Walk with me sister," He invited holding out his arm for her.

Sansa flinched reflexively at the gesture. Ramsay had taken a sick pleasure in making sure she was on his arm anytime she went out in public. He liked to lord his place as the Lord of Winterfell and as her husband over her, and all the other Northern Lords who had once scorned him for being a bastard. Ramsay was dead now and couldn't hurt her anymore, thanks to Jon. She didn't have to fear kind gestures from Jon like she did Ramsay. They were just that, kind and not used to hurt her.

Jon sighed and retracted his arm, walking back towards the blurry outline of the keep at a slow pace, likely expecting Sans to follow him. Sansa did just that and for a moment they walked in silence before Jon spoke up.

"How much of that did you hear?" Jon asked her quietly, mindful of any listeners.

"Enough for my suspicions to be confirmed. Enough to know that you're a warg." She whispered the last part, mindful of anyone overhearing.

Jon froze before sighing. "I trust you understand that this is to be kept secret?"

Sansa scowled. "I'm not an idiot."

"If you tell anyone it'll be considered treason. This is no game, we can not risk our enemies knowing about this." He warned firmly.

They walked in companionable silence for a moment before Jon spoke up again. "You said you had suspicions? Why? What tipped you off?" He asked with the slightest note of panic in his voice at the idea of others piecing it together as she had.

"Little things that you told me in private," She was quick to reassure him. "How you knew stuff that happened in Meereen so quickly. Why you were so defensive and possessive of your Targaryen bride and how you knew her so well. How you knew the Umbers had Rickon. How you knew of the Whitehills planned betrayal. How you were able to control when the dragon attacked and knew the exact moment he was in position, how you guided him with your eyes shut. Why you were so confident the dragon would come. How it knew to specifically target Ramsay and Lord Bolton. You knew so much because you can see the memories of the animals you warg into." She listed off all of the small hints that had clued her in.

Jon chuckled. "That's unfortunately not how they work, you can't see everything they have seen. You can only know what they learn while they are with you."

Sansa nodded. That was unfortunate and limited their usefulness somewhat but they still had value. Namely the ability to instantly communicate across long distances simply by speaking to a bird that someone was warged into or she supposed a dragon in Jon's case.

"I told the Lords that your dragon was sent by your aunt. I didn't mention the betrothal you offered or the shared power but they needed some answers." Sansa admitted, moving away from a subject that they probably shouldn't be discussing so openly, secrecy was the key to winning the throne. If the Lannisters didn't know about wargs than they wouldn't prepare for them just like they hadn't prepared to face Jon's dragon.

"Good." He nodded. "I need them to know that she's not her father. They have to recognize her authority and goodness for us to rule together. Thank you, sister."

"How do you plan on breaking the news to them? They follow you because you are a Stark. Your dragon is already starting to change their minds on that fact. As is the crown of fire. When you announce your betrothal to a Targaryen Princess, they'll think you're abandoning your Stark roots. You could lose the North." Sansa said quietly. She knew they had to ally with Daenerys Targaryen to avoid another Dance of the Dragons but she was concerned about what that partnership would do to those from the North. They didn't take kindly to southerners or Targaryen's with the possible exception of Jon although the jury was still out on that one. They still held a grudge against the Mad King and the Mad Prince for what they had done to the Starks. If they thought Jon was a Targaryen then they would go back to vying for the safe option of Northern Independence, free from his rule and Sansa doubted Jon or his bride would go for that.

"Queen." He chided. "There are other ways of ensuring that they know I am still a Stark than spurning my Targaryen heritage," Jon said dismissively.

Sans frowned, annoyed that Jon wasn't treating this matter seriously. He couldn't just force everyone to kneel through fear. His dragon wasn't immortal and Jon wasn't- probably at least. "Like what?"

Jon stopped walking and turned to her before reaching inside his vest. "Sansa Stark, I'd do you the honor of naming you, Hand of the King." He held out his hand to her and resting on his palm was a silver brooch with the same fist and sword sigil that her father had once worn.

Sansa stumbled. "What?" She gasped. "Why me?" She was in complete disbelief. Jon didn't trust her, she had given him no reason to do so and had undermined him at every possible opportunity. He had to be japing, there was no reason he had actually chosen her.

"As you said, the North has to remember that I am a Stark. If I make a Stark my hand, it makes it hard to believe that I am not a Northerner or loyal to the Starks." Jon explained. "You secure the loyalty of at least one kingdom for me." He snorted. "Besides, who else would I name as my hand? Tormund? They already hate that I have the Free Folk south of the wall. If I were to name one as my hand than a mutiny would be inevitable." Jon subconsciously rubbed the scar over his heart.

Sansa supposed his reasoning did make sense. Did that mean that he trusted her- at least as much as he did anyone? Why would he? What had she done to prove her worthy of that trust? His reasoning made some sense, but there had to be better ways to secure the North then to give Sansa such a powerful position that she could use against him. He had given her nothing that could be damaging to his schemes since then. What had changed? The North was as good as his as long as he toned down the burnings. "At least one Kingdom." Jon had said. This was more than just the North.

"You plan on sending me to Riverrun?" She guessed. "To gain the allegiance of the Tullys and hopefully the entirety of the Riverlands."

Jon shook his head. "I'll go and break the siege on Riverrun myself. I can secure the Riverlands by saving the life of Lord Edmure Tully, promising revenge on the Freys, and with the familial connection through you, my hand as what seals the deal." He exclaimed calmly and then winced and looked away from her eyes. "I plan on sending you to the Vale. You'll catch a boat from Karkhold and arrive at the Eyrie within a sennight. You'll negotiate with the Lord Regent, Petyr Baelish on my behalf and secure the men of the Vale for me."

Sansa stared out at the shivering sea as the boat drifted away from the shore of the Karkhold and on it's way to the Eyrie as Jon had ordered of her. She had betrayed his trust once before and now Jon was returning the favor.

Jon had claimed that he wanted to get to know her so they could be a family, that had been a lie. He wanted to learn about her life so he could use the information she told him in solace against her. He used it to manipulate her into doing what he wanted her to do. She had thought she was being honored by being named his hand but it was all just part of another manipulation.

He had named her as his hand because she inadvertently held the key to securing three Kingdoms by his side in the war for the throne. Her Stark name guaranteed that the North he was still a Stark, and not just a Targaryen. Her Tully blood made it certain that her uncle, Lord Edmure would bend the knee to Jon when he ended the siege on Riverrun and broke the Frey's army.

She had told Jon of how Lord Baelish obsessed over her and cared for her. How he had wanted Sansa as his Queen and how he had sold her to Ramsay Bolton. He knew that she was Lord Baelish's weakness and he knew how she felt about him. He had chosen to ignore the latter in favor of the former.

Sansa wasn't angry at him for using the information that she had freely given him against her, that he used it to secure an army from a man she wanted dead more than anyone that was still alive. She was angry with herself for trusting that Jon would be different from every other player in the game of thrones. She should have expected that this would happen.

In some ways, Sansa was even proud that Jon was learning to play the game so quickly. This is what she had wanted him to become. She appreciated his ability to manipulate his subjects to give him what he needed and to secure his throne. She wouldn't be upset if he had done this same thing to anyone but her. Instead she would have been proud and approving. She knew she was being a bit hypocritical with that but it stung to be betrayed by the one man she thought she could trust with her more horrifying tales.

She would get him the Vale as he wanted, as much as she wanted nothing more than to have Brienne take Petyr's head. Sansa knew she would do it if she asked but she wouldn't ask. Jon had asked her to secure the loyalty of the Vale and she couldn't do that by killing Baelish.

In a perfect world, she might be able to reveal that Lord Baelish had been the one to kill Lysa Arryn, that it wasn't a suicide. She could even claim that Sweet Robyn was Baelish's son and not Jon Arryn's since she had been with him since before her marriage; it was a completely plausible lie.

Harold Hardying would inherit the Vale once she was certain that he would follow Jon, if not then she wouldn't reveal that Robyn wasn't Jon Arryn's son and would get Lord Royce to follow Jon as Robyn's regent. She would dethrone Baelish and finish getting her revenge while accomplishing what Jon has asked her to do.

That would never happen though, if she revealed the truth behind how Lysa died she would be confessing to her own guilt as well in covering it up. Her part in both the murder and covering up of her aunt's murder would see her headless as well- or well likely learning to fly when she was shoved through the moon door. She would only be guaranteeing the Vale never marched with Jon by exposing the truth behind her aunt's death. She would have to take a different approach even if it wasn't the one she wanted to take.

"Lady Sansa," Brienne said, she gently tapped her shoulder. Sansa shook her head to clear the thoughts of Baelish from her mind. She needed to have a clear head to make the negotiations as impersonal as possible. She needed to not let anger cloud her judgment like it had when the Boltons were their opposition.

"Yes, Brienne?" She queried with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you sure you can trust your cousin?" She asked hesitantly. "That you will be safe?"

Sansa chewed on her lower lip. Could she trust Jon? She had thought so but then he had used the information she had given him to gain a kingdom. He had also named her as his hand and in spite of this one task he had given her that had abused her trust, he had been good to her. He had given her the revenge against Ramsay that so desperately craved more than anything else.

"Brother." She corrected with a slight frown. "Jon decimated the Boltons and Lannisters. He has a dragon, Brienne. He's better suited than anyone else in the world to keep me safe."

Brienne blushed and shook her head. "That's not what I meant." She sighed and locked eyes with Sansa. "I mean are you safe with him- from him?"

Sansa glared at Brienne. "Of course, I am. He's my brother. He'll keep me safe. I trust him to do that." Just not with my secrets, not ever again. "He would never hurt me."

Brienne did not relent at Sansa's declaration. "Are you sure that he's not as mad as his forefathers? Your mother always said he was untrustworthy and vile."

Sansa's frown deepened. "My mother thought that Jon was a bastard and that he would steal the North from Robb. Jon is not a bastard and he is not mad. He is a good man and my brother."

"How can he be good if he's burning men alive?" Brienne shouted back. This was the first time Brienne had ever been so vocal in her disagreement with Sansa's decisions. She had thought Brienne would remain loyal to her and uphold her vow no matter what. Perhaps that was not the case

"Those were evil men." Sansa said, unwilling to budge even an inch. "The Boltons deserved to die as they did. The fire was too kind to them."

"Not all of those men were," Brienne said quietly. "Some of those men had lives. Some of them had a family back home who they will never get to return to. Some of them were just innocents, who had no choice but to follow their liege lord into battle." She was on the verge of tears now. "Your brother killed them all, without any mercy because they stood by the Boltons. Not all of them needed to die."

Sansa's jaw clenched. "My brother offered them mercy. He gave them the chance to bend the knee before the battle. They refused and chose to die." She sighed, slightly exasperated with Brienne's naivety. "Even after they chose death, Jon gave them a second chance to bend the knee. Even the Lannisters were offered the wall as mercy."

"After he had slaughtered hundreds!" Brienne spat out.

"After he proved his strength and that he was a King." Sansa corrected.

Brienne looked away from her. "Ser Jamie told me that he had the same look on his face while his dragon was ravaging their army as the Mad King did when he killed your grandfather. Is he not just like him, burning men alive for pleasure and to force compliance through fear? Is he not just another cruel mad King who doesn't care for-"

Sansa snarled and stomped her foot, cutting off Brienne's tirade. "Enough. You should know better than to trust the word of the Kingslayer. He is trying to turn you against Jon who in case you forgot is the enemy of his son. This is a trick by the Lannisters. Jon is not mad. Jon is not his grandfather. Jon is not his father either. He's a Stark and my brother. He's a good man."

"Lady Sansa-" Brienne pleaded.

"I said enough." Sansa cut her off coldly. "What you speak of is treason, and I will hear no more of it."

"Sansa how wonderful it is to see you again." Lord Baelish said in greeting as Sansa stood before him. Alone, in the same room where her aunt had tried to kill her and Petyr had saved her by murdering her. Her heart was racing and her palms were slightly sweaty. She had hoped to never see him again.

She had left Brienne outside well she met with him so it was just them alone. They had to be alone for this to work, otherwise, they would just dance around each other and play games. Neither of them completely trusted Brienne. He could easily shove her through the moon door right now as he had her aunt, and she would be helpless to stop him. She would be nothing but a splatter on the ground in spite of all her titles and power she had worked so hard to accumulate. Her brother had a dragon but even it would be unable to save her.

"When I heard that you had escaped Winterfell, I feared the worst. I was overjoyed when I heard you had made it to your cousin at the wall. Then your cousin foolishly chose to try to claim the throne and there were enemies on all sides. I thought for sure you were lost to me." His voice was soothing and sweet as ever. She almost wanted to believe that he genuinely cared about her as more than a substitute for her dead mother. He almost sound the part of a concerned father even. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you escaped and made it here unharmed."

Sansa allowed some of her anger to leak through. "Tell me, Lord Baelish," She used the formal address intentionally to let her seem distrustful of him. "Did you know about Ramsay? What he had to Theon? What he would do to me?" Sansa accused. She knew the answer to the question already but that was part of their game. They liked to make the other admit what they already knew. Previously, Baelish had been the only player in the game but now Sansa would play it and win. She had the advantage here after all, she was his greatest weakness.

"Sansa-" He tried to explain but Sansa cut him off.

"If you didn't know you are an idiot, Baelish and we both know that's not the case. So tell me, why would you sell me to that bastard? Am I that disposable to you? Do you not care for me at all like I-" Sansa trailed off at the end there, intentionally offering him the carrot that she knew he craved so desperately.

"I miscalculated." Baelish conceded. He took a step closer to her and Sansa retreated a step instictively. "I thought that they would need you to be happy and healthy to retain control of the North. I knew what he did to the Greyjoy boy and I thought that it would please you. He was believed to have murdered your brothers. I knew he was cruel and vile but I thought your name would protect you from him as any mark on you would be foolish and cite a rebellion. I'm sorry that you suffered for my mistake, Sansa. I shouldn't have sold you to him."

Sansa this time was the one who took a step closer and pulled down the sleeve of her dress, leaving her collarbone- marred from the scars left by Ramsay's knives free to his view. Baelish's hungry eyes devoured her skin and the swell of her bosom that was visible as the dress was pulled down. Sansa resisted the urge to shiver under his gaze.

"Ramsay didn't leave a mark where others could see, he wasn't a fool. He needed my face, the face of Ned Stark's daughter to gain the North's fealty. But the rest of me? He did whatever he liked with the rest of me, as long as I could give him his heir. He raped me brutally every night. He took pleasure in beating me while he did so. He was not gentle. He was not kind. He was cruel and evil. You gave me to that monster, and for what? Your own ambition? Your desire to give me back my home?"

He took a step towards her. "I wanted you to be a Queen. I wanted to give you all your childhood dreams. You are the most beautiful and wonderful women in the world, Sansa, it is only right that you would be Queen. We would rule together, as we were always meant to be. I let my desire to give you the life you desire and deserve, cloud my judgment. I rushed things. I once again offer my apologies."

Sansa softened her gaze and smiled slightly but said nothing. "Now that your cousin is dead, we have suffered a setback. The North won't be ready for another war on behalf of the Starks, we'll have to be patient and bide our time for now. You'll be safe here, with me until that time comes."

Sansa laughed. "My cousin didn't die. He killed the Boltons and captured the Lannisters. He has been crowned as the King in the North."

Lord Baelish raised an eyebrow at that although Sansa doubted he hadn't already heard with his expansive spy network. "How did he manage that? I was under the impression that he was vastly outnumbered."

"He has a dragon," Sansa replied with a grin.

"A dragon?" He asks and Sansa nods. "So he's allied with his aunt then, that complicates things." She wasn't surprised that Baelish knew about Daenerys having dragons, his spy network was nearly as vast as the spiders had been before he fled. He certainly had trusted sources in Essos who could find out the truth of the dragon's existence. He also likely already knew that Jon had one but this was all just another part of his games.

Sansa took another step towards him. Her heart was beating rapidly at being so close to the slimy snake but she would have to get closer still. "He named me as Hand of the King and sent me here to give him the loyalty of the Vale."

"Congratulations on your title," He said honestly. "Why should I care if your cousin is on the throne? The Lannisters have been good to me, why should I risk my life in your cousin's war?"

Sansa took another step towards him. She was close enough that she could smell his perfumes now, a pine smell that wafted off of him. She could reach out and touch him if she wanted to. "My brother and his Targaryen bride want to break the wheel together, Petyr. They want to make a world where men and women are equal in the line of succession. Where no one will ever be forced into a marriage like I was with Ramsay and my mother was with Brandon Stark. She would have been free to choose you under Jon's rules. Jon has named me Lady of Winterfell, in spite, of Rickon being the male heir. He wishes for men and women to be equal in the line of succession, Petyr."

"All wonderful things I'm sure, but why should I care? Why should I risk my life on an order that provides little benefit to me?" Baelish asked once again. Sansa knew that he knew what she was hinting at and just wanted her to say that.

This is what Jon wanted, wasn't it? She had told him what Baelish wanted, why he had acted the way he did. He had to know that this was the only way to secure the Vale without a marriage alliance which he had already forbidden. She had to make Baelish think that was the end game here.

"My brother is a fool, Petyr." She lied. She took another small step forward and grabbed Baelish's hands in her own. "We help him claim the Iron Throne and become the King of all the Seven Kingdoms. Then when he and his Targaryen bride have an unfortunate accident, I will be his next of kin and his heir. Since I was my brother's hand, there would be no contesting that I was who he would have wanted on the throne after his death."

She took another step forward as her heart pounded loudly. She could feel his warm minty breath on her forehead. She was really doing this, it was what Jon wanted but it was not what she wanted. There would be no turning back from this. "I would be named Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and you would be my King. We would rule together and finally sit on the Iron Throne."

She closed her eyes and took the final step to close the rest of the distance between them and then pressed her lips to his.

I didn't actually plan on having Sansa figure out that Jon was a warg in this chapter, just get close to the the truth and realize it in her next chapter but it just kind of happened while writing the chapter. She had information to much exclusive information that Jon had shared with her both on accident and on purpose for her to not have the hints required for her, a Northerner who has heard the Legends and even kind of experienced them.

I know a lot of people will be upset with the decision to not have dragons be able to be warged by Non-Targaryens or stolen from them but it had to happen. Initially, the planned plot of this book was centered around Euron with dragonbinder as the main antagonist but quite frankly I have no clue how to write a dragon centric plot where the dragons are stolen without this ending up with a Disney movie ending where love and friendship save the day. The only way to do that would be to make them end up having to fight and probably kill their dragons and if I tried to write that I would not enjoy writing it and as a result leave it unfinished so no stealing dragons by anyone.

So Sansa is Jon's hand. I'm sure this decision makes everyone mad since Sansa is a terrible character in the show who constantly undermines Jon, and is stupid, selfish, and power-hungry. She goes behind his back and works against his desires constantly believing that she knows best. Sansa in this has been exactly the same way. Those are exactly the reasons that she has to be Jon's hand.

Sansa needs to be involved in stuff and know at least part of what is going on in order to not make her own plans that sabotage him. She will not be a wallflower. She wants power and is selfish. Jon just gave her everything she wants both indenting her to him, and by setting her into a place where she is in position to become the highest power. Jon isn't stupid enough to trust her to look out for his own interests. He is trusting her to look out for her own self-interests which now demands that Jon win his war and take the throne. She is his closest kin once he and Daenerys die, and as his hand it will be very difficult for anyone to protest that it is she who Jon chose as his heir. Until Jon takes the throne she is now 100% trustworthy as she's only sabotaging herself by sabotaging Jon.

There is also the political benefit of choosing Sansa as his hand. She secures the loyalty of the North for him even as he continues to embrace being a Targaryen because he is raising a Stark up alongside him and they still are his right hand. He's making it clear that he is choosing both sides of himself in both actions and words now. There is also the benefit of her blood connection to the Tully's who were once Lord Paramounts of the Riverlands and could likely be won over revenge on the Freys, her place by his side, and the freeing of their family seat. Then there is the Vale where Sansa specifically told him that she was Baelish's weakness. He knows that Baelish's end goal is the throne with Sansa as his queen and Jon gave him a chance at both by siding with him. Since Lord Robyn Arryn just does what Baelish says, he gained the loyalty of the Arryns and a good portion of the Vale with that move. Sansa as his hand gives him footholds in three separate Kingdoms and there are very few other candidates that can even give him two yet alone three. He doesn't trust Sansa but she is the best choice and he can trust her to work alongside him for her own self-interests; he can not expect that of Arianne Martell or whoever else he might have chosen. In a perfect world, Davos or even Tormund would be the one he would trust as his hand but those appointments hurt his campaign not help it. He needs support more than he needs a hand that he likes at the present time.

It is a horrible thing to give Sansa to Baelish but it's something he had to do just like how he had to swap Gilly's child as Lord Commander. In order to make things better, sacrifices have to be made and one must compromise. He left the decision of how to gain the Vale up to Sansa because the illusion of choice is an extremely important method to avoid building resentment and rebellion but he was aware this was how she would do it because it's the only way she could succeed and she wouldn't accept failure- that's not who Sansa is. Sansa didn't enter into a marriage alliance with Baelish seeing as how those don't exist anymore according to Jon and he won't make an exception with that but he did let Baelish think that Sansa reciprocates his feelings. It's awful an inhumane but when it secures you thousands of men it's the decision that must be made. Do the ends justify the means? In Jon's mind the answer is yes as awful as these means are.

Someone had to take Jon's decision to burn men alive for opposing him horribly even though tactically it is a good decision, and from a personal agony standpoint, instant death by fire is less painful than by the sword. That person naturally always had to be Brienne. She's the most textbook honorable and always do the right thing character in GOT and she is one of the few who knows the depths of the Mad King's madness. She tries to convince Sansa that Jon is dangerous and unstable.

Many people noted the comparisons between the Mad King and Jon in the last chapter. Those were entirely intentional but that does not mean that Jon is mad. He is paranoid, overtly so but that is an unhealthy habit and self-destructive behavior, not madness. He has dark fantasies and enjoys watching men burn alive. Again, not healthy but dark fantasies don't mean you are evil or mad, no more than lusting after a teenager makes you a pedophile. Actions define who you are not thoughts. Lots of people have dark fantasies it's only when you act on them that you become those things. The Mad King was mad because he had no impulse control, or ability to understand the consequences of his actions not because he was paranoid or liked watching things burn. Those fed into his madness but they weren't the cause of it. Jon will be compared to the Mad King quite often because of his proclivities but as long as he can control his impulses and remember that actions have consequences, as long as he feels empathy he will remain sane.

A lot of people pointed out that killing the Mad King was not actually honorable of him as he sat by and did nothing as his father sacked the city and I agree. It was very much him choosing to save his father and not the people just like Aerys was burning them to kill the armies and not the people. In fact, one could argue that Aerys's plan to burn down Kings Landing was nothing short of tactical genius. He had at least the Lannister, Baratheon, and Stark armies all in one place caught in the blast radius of the wildfire. Presuming the wildfire was not also in the keep which seems logical, he would have wiped out all of his enemies without losing a single man in his own armies in the battle. He would have secured the throne for House Targaryen for another hundred years in one fell swoop even if thousands died in the process. It would be ruthless but effective and no more ruthless than what Tywin did to Castamere. I'm not even entirely certain that he even was deranged when he gave the order to "Burn them all" it could easily be Jamie's mind-warping the event to help him cope with it. It has been twenty years since this happened when we learn of what he remembers of it and as I've already said multiple times memories are not infallible and are warped to fit our perceptions and exaggerated in our minds. I'm not saying the Mad King is good or anything but calling him evil because of Jamie's account of that event is stupid. That being said no one will commit political suicide by defending the Mad King so he will be always be villainized to comical proportions in this.

I'm not entirely certain if the next chapter will be Daenerys or Jon since I still haven't decided if I want to cut up the next Jon chapter in two since it's absurdly long. Regardless, it will be out next Friday. Thanks for reading.