Jon Snow & Sansa Stark - Game of Thrones Fanfiction

Dreams (Canon Divergent)

While awake Sansa would know that this dream was not set in stone. She would know that she was having this dream so she could prevent whatever she was now dreaming about. She would know that this dream was there to give her the chance to craft a better future. For herself. And for those she cared about.

However, Sansa was not awake. She was not aware that she was dreaming. The images were way too vivid, like all her predictive dreams, to feel not real. And so she screamed and screamed, until her throat was hoarse. And she cried and cried, until her cloak was entirely soaked.

"Jon!"

He was surrounded. Surrounded by his own men, but mostly surrounded by Ramsay's men. The panic in his eyes, the panic in his voice, the panic in his breath.

She felt it all.

Ramsay's men were closing in and although Jon's men fought bravely they had nowhere to go. No room to weild their weapons. No route through which they could escape. Those who fell never stood up again. Trampled on. Suffocated. Dead.

She already saw it happening to him too.

His legs wobbled. People brushed his shoulders. Pushed and pulled. He was tired. And even though he was their commander, he was just as trapped as everyone else and just one of them now. They were not going to save him. They couldn't.

Ramsay would win. He would send men to find her, to bring her back to him, into his clutches and this time with no-one to care enough about her to help her escape. He would destroy Winterfell, the place that had once been her childhood home, stone by stone and brick by brick. He would hurt those families who had always been loyal to her father. To Robb. To Jon. Even to her. He would destroy the North. The beautiful North and the homeland she had never loved until she had left, had missed it terribly and had realized that it was the only place that would ever be kind to her.

She stopped breathing when the dream faded and her eyes fluttered open. For a brief moment she didn't know where she was, the sweat and fear still clinging to her, just like the images she would never forget, no matter if they would come true or not.

Then she remembered that she was at Castle Black and that quite soon she and Jon would march on Winterfell, would attempt to take it back.

They had been talking about it all day. They had strategized and planned. They had sent coded letters to as many people as they dared to trust.

Apart from one.

Could she prevent this future? Could she prevent Jon's dead? Could she turn the table and change the game if she would only send the letter Jon didn't want her to send?

She couldn't know for sure until she would write the letter and send it. Until she would go to bed once more. Until another vision of the future would show itself. Or until she would enjoy a dreamless slumber and would wake up fully rested.