Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the characters, locations, or plots from Game of Thrones. They belong to their respective owners without whom this fanfiction would not have been possible. All reviews are welcome.

"Spoken memories of the future Sansa/ any other character in the future timeline"

'Thoughts of the future Sansa/any other character in the future timeline'

"Current timeline speech"

'Current timeline thoughts'

Winterfell, the day the world ended.

Sansa Stark was betrothed to the monster known as Joffrey Baratheon. And he died.

Sansa Stark was wed to Tyrion Lannister. And he died.

Sansa Stark was then wed to the monster known as Ramsey Bolton. And while he died at Sansa's hands as she smiled, the point is that he died. And ever since then, Sansa remained alone. She told herself she would never marry anyone unless she herself wished it.

Then three weeks before the end of days, Sansa watched in silent anger - an anger that was well-disguised by a small smile on her face - as Jon of Houses Targaryen and Stark, the man she thought was her half brother, 'No, cousin. My cousin,' wed the Dragon Queen Daenerys Targaryen in front of the Heart Tree in the Winterfell godswood.

And now, three weeks later, she stared at the three dragons screeching in the sky while they flew towards Winterfell with an army of dead men, women, and children running at inhuman speeds below them. In her room in Winterfell, Sansa stood tall as the lady of the ancient castle with Davos, Arya, Missendei, and Tyrion by her side as the one dragon known as Rhaegal turned away from Winterfell and headed South, 'probably towards the Vale'. To her right was a roaring fire in the hearth, behind her was her bed, and to her left was the empty wheelchair that belonged to her younger brother, Bran. Her dead brother.

Sansa recalled Bran crouched over in his wheelchair with blood dripping from the sides of his mouth; it was one and a half weeks after Jon and the combined army of the living from the North, the Red Priests, the Second Sons, the army from Riverrun, the Vale, and Jamie Lannister all went North to meet the dead head on. Bran had taken control of the dragon Rhaegal since Jon wasn't able to ride the beast, and when Rhaegal was put down by the Night King, Bran died as well since his mind was in the dragons; he was unable to warg out of the dragon's mind since he was in the mind of the beast for too long of a time. Arya was the first to see Bran slump forward, and the young woman grabbed her brother and screamed at him to wake up.

Sansa closed her eyes as tears dripped down her cheeks at Arya's cries. She felt a small hand hold on to her own; looking down as she opened her eyes, she saw Tyrion who looked up at her sadly, 'he knows what this means.' Sansa's bottom lip trembled as she gently pulled her hand from Tyrion's and walked towards her dead baby brother. Reaching the body, she placed a hand on Arya's shoulder and, then with her other hand, leaned down and wrapped it around Bran's shoulders. Sansa hugged the both of them while the others stood in the room as another Stark died. And soon, most possibly, would be the end of their own lives.

It would be an hour later that Bran's body was burnt so as to prevent the Night King from raising his body.

Now all everyone could do was pray to the Old gods and the New that the army of the living would return; at least that most of them would return. But everyone knew the loss of Bran meant that one dragon was lost. Everyone knew that Drogon was the last one alive after Viserion was brought down by the Night King back at the ill-fated journey past the wall to retrieve a wight. Everyone hoped that Dany and Jon would return with at least some of the Army.

That's what they hoped.

But Sansa knew better. While Arya and Lyanna Mormont were discussing the protection of the castle, she felt a pain in her heart an hour after Bran's death. Sansa knew how she initially treated Jon- just as her mother had treated him. So just like her mother, Sansa avoided him as much as possible when they were younger. She acted cold towards him; she called him her half-brother, she just didn't want to think of him as anything more than that.

'Was it ever any surprise that he left for the wall years ago without saying goodbye?' Sansa thought looking out the window in her chambers after Bran's body was burnt one and a half weeks ago. She rubbed her chest lightly hoping to massage away the dull pain… but no matter what she did, it was still there – a pain that throbbed lightly in pace with her heart beat. The pain was how Sansa knew that the very man she ignored, the very man she was meant to go to for safety so many years ago after being spirited away from Kings Landing during Joffrey's murder, and then after leaving the Eyrie; the very same man who took her in after she arrived at Castle Black following her escape from Ramsey. The man who cared for her, the man who fought for her, the man who won back Winterfell for her- the man who was really her cousin. That very man was now dead.

Jon was dead.

Sansa knew but she couldn't tell anyone. Doing so would mean a huge loss of morale. So, she kept it to herself for the next three weeks, even as she watched the dead screaming and hissing out loud running towards the castle. Her hand shivered as she held on to Arya's hand, and the other hand held onto Tyrion. As the remaining two dragons fired streams of fire into the people rushing out to fight the dead, Sansa recalled the revelation from Bran that Jon was really their cousin; the trueborn son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. She remembered the look of shock on everyone's faces and wondered if she looked as stunned as they did. It was Jon who shook his head saying "it wasn't possible" and that "it couldn't be true" and "I…. I…". Sansa listened to Jon stammer as his face twisted in anguish while leaning back against a wall.

"I… I…"

"You're our brother," Arya said running over to him. This time, Sansa didn't see a Faceless Man… she didn't see a deadly assassin… instead, Sansa saw a little girl comforting a boy who learned the greatest secret Westeros would never know. At least not until they fought and won against the Night King. It would be several minutes later that the stunned Jon revealed what had happened on the boat to White Harbour, and how he felt about Dany. Sansa, as well as Arya and Samwell, were stunned at the revelation. She glanced at Bran who continued to stare at Jon with those faraway eyes and wondered if he knew.

'Of course, he knows,' Sansa thought to herself.

"She's my aunt," Jon gasped, bringing Sansa out of her thoughts as he leaned back against the wall behind him while running his hand through his hair, a look of disbelief on his face, "by the gods, I fucked my aunt."

"Well, that is the Targaryen way," Arya chuckled as Jon, suddenly serious, frowned at her.

"Not funny," Jon said shaking his head before looking at Sansa who was staring back at him, and then away towards Arya, "Sansa?"

Sansa sighed before saying, "you know my feelings about her. She's unpredictable, and she's…" Sansa could see that Jon was about to say something, but the redhead lifted her hand and signalled for him to wait, "you told her about the dangers coming this way, and yet she demanded you bend the knee or she would not aid us."

"Which you already did," Arya frowned, "bend the knee, I mean." And Jon sighed.

"In the end, she agreed to aid us after she saw the dead," Jon countered while Bran watched silently, "I did what I had to do. Despite my misgivings, I did what I had to do for the North."

"I told you, Jon," Sansa then sighed, before continuing, "people were lost… people who are now part of the army of the dead. And not only that, she lost a dragon… who knows if the Night King can raise a dragon to fight on his side." Sansa, her hair untied as she sat on a chair next to Bran, then said, "and there is no reason to believe Cersei will send us any aid, even if she made a promise. We have to assume we're on our own."

"We'll have a plan ready in case she does not send any soldiers," Jon said as he walked towards a chair and sat down across from Sansa who leaned forward before reaching for, and then gently holding onto his hands.

"You know my feelings towards her," Sansa said, "do you love her?"

"I don't know," Jon whispered shaking his head.

Sansa bit her lower lip as she imagined her grandfather screaming as he burned in front of the laughing Mad King while her Uncle Brandon struggled to save him; instead strangling himself in the process. Sansa felt anger rise at the thought of that mad man's spawn being in the same castle as the people he wronged, but she knew that Daenerys' army and remaining dragons were important. She knew that support on helping her regain the throne was important for some semblance of peace to return – but there would be a price to pay.

"You will have to marry Daenerys." Sansa did not like it one bit, Jon was still a TSark in her eyes. It took a long time for her to see him as one; and now that she had, she was very reluctant to let him go. And now, with three dragons under the control of a foreign queen - it did not matter that Daenerys was born in Dragonstone, what mattered was that she did not know the country she sought to rule - the daughter of the Mad King could demand anything. And she already demanded that Jon bend the knee despite knowing the danger coming their way. No, Sansa was not happy at all.

Weeks after the wedding of Jon and Daenerys, dead dragons began burning Winterfell while the Wights killed everyone in sight as they swept in through the gates and the walls like a great flood. Sansa looked up as Arya held onto her hand, 'or am I holding on to her?' Sansa thought looking to her sister who was staring out in horror at the destruction around them. Sansa turned to a pale Tyrion, and then a fearful Missendei and Varys, and then back out at the dragon that just flew past firing a stream of blue flame. It was Dany- her clothes stained in blood- riding Drogon; both screeching out loud as the living they flew over burned to ashes.

"Sansa!" Arya turned around as the door behind them fell to the floor before Wights poured it. Sansa saw Arya fight off several of the Wights, following her brother Jon's orders to protect Sansa at all cost. But the redhead saw, helpless, as Arya was ripped apart. She then heard more screams as Missendei and then Tyrion were slain, and then Davos and Varys… all eaten alive. It was then that Sansa heard a screech outside in the hallway.

"Jon!" Sansa yelled out at the bloody man, the former King in the North, the former Lord Commander of the Nights Watch, the former Bastard, and her cousin, 'no… no… my brother.' Tully eyes met glowing blue orbs before the owner of the latter, Jon, howled at Sansa. "I'm sorry," Sansa whispered before she was pulled down to the floor by several other Wights while fighting her instincts to scream, "goodb…" Sansa felt darkness take her as the monsters ripped their teeth into her body and then tore off her flesh.

Winterfell, eight years earlier.

Sansa snapped her eyes open and then sat up from being underwater in her bathtub gasping for air. She brought her hands to her neck as water flowed over the side of the tub at the sudden splashing of the warm water in the tub. She panted while searching for the bite marks and the blood she felt flowing down as the blue-eyed monsters bit into her body. Finding nothing on her hands, Sansa looked at the goosebumps on her arms and then down at her body. She hoped she wouldn't see scars or blemishes, or cuts as she did in the dream. A dream that was so vivid that she felt the rotten teeth of monsters bite into her.

'A dream,' Sansa thought as her heart raced in her chest, 'just a dream. All a dream.' Sansa gulped while her hands gripped the edges of her tub as she sat up, her breasts just above the water line and her hair matted down to her scalp and partially covering her face. She placed herself under water, as she always would, so that the warmth of the water would cover her entire body. But this time it was different.

'I felt as if I slept… as if I woke up from a deep sleep. but I don't remember sleeping, I…' Sansa thought shaking her head, 'I was just under water for.. how long was I underwater… I…' Sansa thought to herself confused before using her hands to sweep back the hair that partially covered her face. She closed her eyes and remembered the monsters that attacked her, that attacked Winterfell. She breathed in deep as she recalled the dragon and then she saw him, 'Jon. Blue eyes, bleeding. What… why would I dream about Jon or…."

"Jon Snow avenged the Red Wedding," Sansa heard a voice as she shook her head, but she couldn't remember the face under the dim lights of what looked like Winterfell's Great Hall. The details of the face were dim in her mind. But the voice was a male, "he is the White Wolf. The King in the North!"

'White Wolf? The King in the North? Jon?' Sansa thought to herself as she stood up in the tub, the water now flowing down along her body, 'he's a bastard, why?' Sansa then shook her head and chuckled, 'then it's definitely just a dream. A bastard becoming King in the North? Yes, it was just a dream,' as she got out of the tub, the water now flowing down onto t he floor as she walked towards the clothe on the bed. Sansa used it to dry her body before walking to the other side of the bed to put on the dress laid out for her earlier by her mother, 'I'll be seeing Prince Joffrey at our midday meal again.' Sansa smiled at the thought of the handsome Prince and how she was to wed him once she flowered, 'I'll someday be Queen, and….'

"You are Alayne, my bastard daughter," Sansa stopped as she heard a voice in her head before a memory, a memory she knew she didn't have, came to the forefront of her mind. She didn't recognize the man, 'who are you?' but she felt her skin crawl at his sight. Sansa then closed her eyes and sat on the side of her bed while shaking her head as more images came forward into her mind, 'it's not possible. I.. I never went to these places. I never saw the Vale, I… I never met Aunt Lysa and...' Sansa then took a deep breath and reminded herself it was all a dream. Then she saw something else in her mind.

"You conspired with Cersei Lannister and Joffrey Baratheon to murder our father Eddard Stark, do you deny it?" Sansa froze at that part what she believed was her dream; a part she couldn't remembered having dreamt in the first place. She froze at the same man as in the Vale staring at her… she froze at the anger and hate in her voice. Sansa froze as she saw the man beg for his life before a young woman slashed his throat. And Sansa froze at the sight of who the woman was, 'Arya?' Sansa stared as Arya, who seemed to be much older, walked calmly to the edge of the table while she sheathed a dagger. Sansa then recalled looking back at the body with unexplainable strong feelings disgust for the man before saying, "burn the body."

"What.. what's happening to me?" Sansa begged as she brought her hands to the sides of her head. S he slipped off the bed and fell n her knees onto the floor as memories, 'I.. I've never….', suddenly more images that should have never existed started to come forth to her mind. She thought to herself, 'father! No! No! Someone stop him… stop! No!' Sansa's eyes widened at Ned Starks' head rolling down the steps at the Sept of Baelor. She watched as Joffrey laughed at her, 'but… I.. I never had these memories and... and no. It's my dream. It's a dream… I remember the last part of the dream because of the horror, but this…' Sansa trembled as she got up to her feet, 'just a dream. A vivid dream, but just a dream. That's all it was. A dream. Prince Joffrey will never be cruel. He… he will never be cruel. He will love me and…"

"I am sorry, my Lady." Sansa, in her mind's eye, saw the Imp- Tyrion Lannister- speaking while looking sadly at her before walking away. Sansa stood up from the floor, her legs trebled as she brought her empty left hand up to her chest. Her palm was empty, but she could feel a scroll in her hand. "No," Sansa said looking back at the dress, "it was a dream. Just a dream. Mother said I'll be betrothed to the Prince. I love him. I love him, and I will make him love me. I will be the Lady he wants me to be. I will be a Queen sitting beside the most handsome king in all of Westeros."

Sansa removed the cloth around her before she began putting on her clothes; a smile on her lips as she thought of Joffrey, 'all a dream. It was all a dream.'

TBC.