Disclaimer: I do not own the Game of Thrones series. I am not profiting from this in any way.

AN: So, I'm a little bit obsessed with the idea of Sansa getting a happy ending, and thus, this story was created. Cousin's marrying isn't uncommon in the books. So, I paired Jon off with Sansa. This story is dedicated to one of my favorite tumblr followers PrettyRacing whom piqued my interest in this ship.

A Different Fate

Sansa Stark was but a girl of seventeen. She enjoyed simple pleasures such as pretty gowns, sweet wine, and lemon cakes. She had wild fantasies of King's Landing, and all the lavish stories that had been told to her by Old Nan and her septa. Today, she would finally see the city of her dreams for the first time.

She had overheard her mother and father discussing a betrothal in a hushed whispered back at Winterfell, and Sansa could do nothing more than to await this Prince Jon Targaryen they spoke off. Sansa envisioned her prince to be white haired with violet eyes like his grace, King Rhaeger Targaryen. Her head grew light as she imagined her prince, and she let out a tiny giggle.

Lady licked at Sansa's fingers, and Sansa scratched the back of her wolf's ear tenderly. She remembered the day her father had brought the pups home. There were six total, five for the Stark children and one that he sent to Queen Lyanna as a gift to her only son, Prince Jon. Sansa sighed as Jon crossed her mind again.

She had met the King and Queen before. Age had been kind to both Rheagar and Lyanna. The pair still reflected this youthful, stunning beauty. Sansa had always hoped that she'd grow up to be a beauty much like Queen Lyanna, a beauty worth waging war over. As she aged, she had become found of her fiery Tully hair. However, she often found herself wistfully wishing that her bosom was larger, and perhaps, the gods could have made her a head shorter.

The carriage finally came to a stop, and Sansa practically leaped from it. She stared up at the Red Keep, and a sense of nervous excitement tingled up her spine. Sansa felt as if she were a dove on its first flight. The whole world had never felt so available to her, and she could just feel that her life was about to change for the better.

She recognized the King and Queen, and a smile formed upon her lips. Despite the aging fine lines upon her Lyanna's forehead, she still looked as lovely as ever. She curtsied and bowed her head, uttering a soft "your grace" just as her septa instructed her.

Lyanna chuckled. "I see that Septa Mordane's instructions are as fine as they've always been."

Just as the Queen had utter those words, Ayra stumbled out of the carriage. Sansa watched as her younger sister pulled herself to her feet and dusted off her dress. Arya did a half bow and some weird attempt at a curtsy. Four years ago, Sansa would have chastised her sister for spoiling it, but she had grown to love her sister despite her poor manners. Besides, Arya had never been the best at walking in heels.

"Or perhaps my former septa is slacking," Lyanna giggled.

Her exterior was that of a patient lady, but on the inside, Sansa felt anxious and lightheaded as she awaited her prince. Lady licked at her fingers, and Sansa stroked the soft fur on the top of her head. Sansa followed as her father spoke of his last visit with her Aunt Lysa. They laughed as they mocked her Aunt's melodramatic tone on their last visit.

"OH, Petyr my greatest love!" Lyanna said as she clutched tightly to King Rheager. "No one has loved you greater than I! Must you spurn me at every turn! My heart dies a little more every day that we are apart!"

"There are times I believe Jon Arryn did not stumble out of that moon door on poor accident," Rhaegar commented. "He must have thrown himself from it to escape that woman."

The King and Queen erupted into laughter. Ayra and Sansa exchanged glances and snickered. Sansa recalled that one awful summer her mother had grown ill. Their father's first suggestion was to send the girls to King's Landing, but their mother had refused. Sansa had always known her mother to hold grudges for long periods of time, and she would bet all her belongings based on all that she had heard and seen that her mother nursed a grudge for the Queen.

Unfortunately that grudge had forced an entire summer of Aunt Lysa and her brat of a son on poor Sansa and Arya. Sansa could not think of a more miserable time in her entire life. Her Aunt would bring her lemon cakes with a smile, but just as quick, lose her temper without reason. When her father came to fetch her and Arya, Sansa ran into his arms practically soaked her father's tunic in tears.

Her painful memories drifted from her when they reached the Red Keep. Sansa spotted a handsome dark haired man clad in Red with a white wolf perched next to him. Sansa heart skipped a beat. Prince Jon was not a thing like she imagined, but Sansa was sure that she had fallen for him at first sight.

Jon's eyes flickered towards her, and his lips quirked into a brief smile. Sansa felt uneasy. She wondered what he thought of her. She feared that he might be disappointed by her. Perhaps she was too tall. Perhaps her bust wasn't large enough after all. Maybe he found her plain.

"Jon," the King had spoke. "This is Lady Sansa and Lady Arya of House Stark."

"It's a pleasure," Prince Jon spoke.

Sansa lowered her head and bended into a curtsy effortlessly. She glanced up at him as her entire body trembled. She had hoped that she did not disappoint him, but she had this gnawing feeling that she might have. Her heart seem to stutter and her entire body went cold as snow. She prayed to the gods that he thought as highly of her as she did him.

…

Throughout the day, anxiety nipped at her. Sansa had never imagined that Arya's brash behavior would be acceptable at the Red Keep, but she seemed to bond with Princess Daenerys within seconds of meeting her. Sansa felt a tinge of envy as the two girls shared their favorite stories amongst each other while she stood off to the side next to her father.

When dinner came along, she sat across from Jon. Despite the small banter they exchanged, Sansa felt as if she were miles apart from Prince Jon. The worst part was when Prince Viserys snubbed her openly.

"Pity, my poor nephew is to wed such a plain girl like the King's first wife," Viserys chimed. "Such a shame she isn't a beauty like our dear Queen Lyanna."

Before the King or Queen could say a world, Daenerys snapped angrily at her brother, "Do you not have any manners, Viserys!"

"Isn't politeness false pleasantries?" he said. "Why not just be bold and state the truth?"

"It is not true!" Arya defended. "There are plenty of young men that would love to be Sansa's betrothed."

"Perhaps we should hear Jon's opinion," Viserys sneered.

"Sansa is very beautiful," Jon said before taking a sip of wine. "I'm very happy to be betrothed to such a lovely lady."

Prince Jon did not defend her with the passion that Daenerys and Arya had. Sansa worried that perhaps he was just being polite, and secretly, he was disappointed by her appearance. She scooted her chair out. She did not even ask to be excused. She just rushed from the dining room with out a word as she fought back the tears that eventually fell.

…

Sansa had ran through the halls until she reached an empty balcony. For what felt like forever, she cried as she stared out into King's Landing. She had thought this would be the best day of her life, and now everything seemed to be falling to apart. You're such a foolish little girl, Sansa thought to herself. You were so stupid to believe...

"Lady Sansa..."

Sansa lifted her eyes to see Princess Daenerys clad in an elegant blue gown. Sansa quickly wiped the tears from her eyes and did her best to compose herself.

"Viserys has always been difficult," Daenerys soothed. "If he weren't my brother, I can imagine none of my family would have any word to speak to him."

Sansa knew she should thank her for her words and retire to bed. Her insecurity had a tight hold on her though, and Sansa found herself spitting out her fears instead. "Prince Jon is displeased with me. He must find me dull."

"Jon has always been reserved," Daenerys assured him. "He doesn't open up easily. I assure you that within time, you two will be inseparable."

Sansa wasn't quite sure if she believed the Princess's words, but she thanked her for them with a tiny curtsy. She had intended to head to bed, but found herself wandering the halls instead. She wished Arya was here. Arya and her couldn't be more different, but she wished to hear Arya's crude humor at the moment especially if Prince Viserys was at the butt of that humor.

Sansa crossed her arms as she continued her aimless trek down the seemingly endless halls. She felt that nervous chill rush through her again, and she admitted that she missed home. She wished that she could be with her mother and her best friend, Jeyne. She missed Robb, Bran, and Rickon. She even missed the cold chill that persisted even in the summertime.

She heard a soft yip from behind her, and Sansa turned to see Jon's wolf standing a few paces before Jon. Her shoulders scrunched forward and she tightened her arms around herself.

"Lady Sansa..."

In that moment, Sansa was sure that her heart had died. She forced herself to glance up at Prince Jon and managed a meek false smile.

"I apologize for my Viserys's poor behavior."

Sansa could not find the words to form a response. She bite her lower lip and cast her eyes downward in utter shame. Never in her entire life had Sansa Stark felt so utterly insecure about every little piece of her.

"Will you walk with me?" Jon asked.

"If it pleases you, my prince," Sansa responded.

They strolled in silence for what felt like an eternity. Sansa wanted nothing more than to disappear. Within minutes, she was sure she had the tile floor pattern etched in her mind forever.

"My father has declared a tourney in honor of our betrothal," Jon finally spoke. "I would like you to accompany me."

"Of course, my prince," Sansa stuttered.

Jon laughed a little at her formalities. "Please Lady Sansa, you may call me Jon."

A smile quirked up on her lips. The tension seemed to lift from her shoulders. "Yes, Jon. I would love to accompany you."

…

Sansa was still a bit apprehensive when Jon escorted her to the tourney. Jon was quiet as he always one, and Sansa was unsure if she should try to make conversation. Daenerys and Arya were but a few paces ahead of them with Viserys trailing slightly behind them like a unwanted fifth wheel upon a carriage.

"I'm certain that Ser Jaime Lannister shall win tonight!" Daenerys chimed.

"He doesn't stand a chance against the Hound!" Viserys retorted, his bitter tone dripping. "If only the Mountain still lived! Jaime's defeat would be certain tonight!"

"How dare you wish Gregor Clegane among the living!" Daenerys spat. "He raped and murdered our dear brother's first wife and murdered her children!"

Sansa pitied the poor woman that would eventually marry Viserys Targaryen. Sansa no longer took his insults to heart, and understood why his sister wanted nothing to do with him. In her entire seventeen years of existance, Sansa had never met someone so foul.

When they reached the tournament, the King and Queen were already sloshed from one to many glasses of wine. Daenerys rushed to her eldest brother, and the King embraced her tightly.

"Dany, my dear sister," he exclaimed. "You look lovely as always."

"Please brother, tell me Ser Jaime has yet to be defeated," Daenerys pleaded.

Rhaeger ruffled Daenerys's hair affectionately. "Worry not, Dany. Ser Jaime remains in the tourney."

Daenerys's grin widened as she snatched Arya's arm. "Come Arya! We shall sit in the front!"

A smile emerged on Sansa's face as she watched the girls bolt to the front of the stands. A few days prior, Arya had met the idea of visiting King's Landing with much resistance. Now, she seemed to be fitting in better than anyone. It would be sweet to have her sister stay with her, and Sansa hoped that Ayra might reconsidering returning to Winterfell with father.

Jon approached his mother and father with Sansa, and Sansa felt that familiar tingling nervousness run through her. Queen Lyanna had to be the envy of every woman in the Seven Kingdom. Even at her age, her beauty was unmatchable in her lavish blue gown and a crown of blue winter roses upon atop of her curled black mane of hair.

"You both look lovely," Lyanna said with a beaming smile.

"Thank you, your grace," Sansa replied.

Jon and Sansa sat before the Queen. Viserys had attempted to sit next to them, but Jon shot him a frigid cold stare. Viserys scoffed at him, and decided to sit on the other side of Daenerys.

"Find your own seat!" Sansa heard Ayra shout.

"I am a Prince!" Viserys shouted. "I will sit where I please!"

Arya scoffed at him and gave him a side eyed glare. Before, Sansa would be embarrassed by Arya's dismissal of Viserys, but she simply laughed with Jon.

"No one but my father has ever be bold enough to dismiss Prince Viserys publicly," Jon commented. "Your sister is a character."

Sansa heard the Queen giggle from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, and if she hadn't known better, Sansa would have mistaken the Queen for a whimsical fourteen year old girl. She watched as Jon lowered his head with embarrassment as his mother leaned on his father's shoulder. They shared sweet nothings to one another, and Sansa watched as Jon cringed.

"They do this every single tourney," Jon whispered. "It's so embarrassing."

Sansa's mother and father weren't so openly affectionate with one another, but Sansa could imagine she'd die of embarrassment if her mother and father displayed such affection for the public to see. She placed her hand on Jon's shoulder in some attempt to comfort him. She gave him an encouraging smile, and she prayed to the gods once more that the night would turn out well.

…

The tourney was better than Sansa could have imagined it to be. She took a personal liking to the gorgeous Ser Loras Tyrell, and she silently hoped for his victory. She let out a small cheer each time Ser Loras knocked his opponent from his seat. Finally, after several battles, it came down to Ser Jaime and Ser Loras. Sansa couldn't have thought of a better match up.

Sansa watched in awe as Jaime thrust Loras Tyrell from his seat. His brother, Tyrion bounced with joy at his brother's victory. Several young girls cheered as Ser Jaime rode along side the stands, hoping to for Jaime to select them. Jaime stopped before Princess Daenerys Targaryen just as Sansa had expected. He held a blue rose to her, and declared her the fairest maiden in Westeros. Daenerys thanked Jaime as she took the rose.

Viserys crossed his arms angrily, and Sansa was sure that he would turn green with envy. "He was merely flattering our family, Dany! I wouldn't read too much into it."

Sansa had known that the Targaryen's often married their siblings, and it wouldn't surprise her if Viserys wished to continue that practice. The thought of marrying one of her brother's was unsettling to her, and she couldn't help but cringe in disgust at Viserys's behavior.

"If Ser Jaime Lannister is sworn to the King's Guard, won't he live a life of celibacy?" Sansa asked.

"I'm certain that Ser Jaime has already betrayed his vows for the Princess," Jon commented.

Sansa watched as Daenerys clutched her blue rose tightly in her hands. She smiled brightly as she spoke with Arya. Sansa could see by the way she held the rose so closely and by the light in her eyes that Jon was telling nothing but the truth.

"My most sincere congratulations go to our victor Ser Jaime Lannister," the King announced. "You fought valiantly for the late King Aerys, and forsook your own father in the process. Not a soul here tonight deserves victory more than you."

The crowd roared like thunder as Jaime took a small bow, and Sansa swore she caught him tossing a small wink to Princess Daenerys. Arya elbowed Daenerys playfully, and the two whispered to each other with bright smiles upon their lips. The two reminded Sansa of Jeyne Poole back home, and she felt a small pang in her heart. If only Jeyne could be here with her now...

"I have another announcement to make," the crowd grew quiet at the King's voice. "The gods were kind enough to spare the life of my youngest son. Tonight, I am to announce that Crown Prince Jon will be betrothed to Lady Sansa Stark."

Sansa felt her head rush as all eyes fell on her with a loud cheer. Her heart hammered against her chest and she lowered her gaze to her feet as she cracked a shy smile. Squires will write about this day, she thought to herself. Sweet old women like Old Nan will tell stories of Jon and I.

Once the excitement had died down, Jon had asked to escort Sansa back to the Red Keep. Sansa's was practically exhausted, and her head felt light from too much drink. She couldn't remember a night she had so much wine. Despite her exhaustion, her smile was stuck upon her lips. She couldn't remember a day that had been quite as lovely as this one.

"I think that my sister might stay," Sansa spoke, mostly to make simple conversation.

"She seems to have taken a liking to Daenerys," Jon said.

"I'm very happy for her," Sansa said.

Jon stopped and turned to Sansa. He turned to face her, and when he looked into her eyes, Sansa swore he stole her breath from her.

"Tonight was nice," Jon said.

"Yes, it was very nice," Sansa agreed.

A small rush of wind passed, and Sansa felt a nervous chill run through her. Jon leaned forward and placed a brief chaste kiss upon her lips. In that moment, warmth spread through her. As Jon pulled away from her, Sansa was certain she would faint.

Sansa was grateful when Jon offered her his arm. She wasn't sure if she could steady herself after his kiss. She was grateful to the the Queen. She was grateful to the King. She was grateful to everything that made this moment possible.

If Robert Baratheon had won, Sansa thought on that for a moment. Tonight would have never occurred, and Sansa imagined her life would never had been this sweet.