God, get over Sansa not being Queen in the North! Does she even WANT to be queen? In the books, no!
People with Sense:
Actually, in the books, which don't even apply to this show from this point, she doesn't want to be JOFFREY'S queen, and while her main focus is on going home, she shows no resistance to the idea of being a queen. In the show, she rejects the idea of being LITTLEFINGER'S queen (consort), beside the Iron Throne, which is in no sway equivalent to being the Queen (Regnant) of the North,in her own home, not married to a guy she doesn't trust. She rejects LITTLEFINGER, not the Queen in the North title. Furthermore, there's actual basis for Jon's kingship in the books that they didn't set up in the show. So applying that here is kind of pointless?
People with Sense:
Also, excuse me, but... for all this talk of Sansa's supposed lack of desire to be queen (which even the network-run wiki seems to contradict)... What evidence do we have that JON wants to be king... at all? In both the books AND the show we have him insisting that it is Sansa, not him, who is the rightful heir to the North repeatedly, to the point where 1) It takes Sansa by surprise and 2) He looks to her for approval as all the lords are shouting his name. He's expressed desires to get away, protect his home, and have Sansa trust him. He's expressed frustration about how he used to have to sit at the low table, but that was already rectified before he was declared. He credits Sansa with their victory on the ramparts and shows ZERO interest in any sort of title or crown and shows far more interest in establishing SANSA while rejecting grandiose titles up until that last scene where, once again, he looks to Sansa for approval before accepting it. So why exactly are people so convinced that it's the woman whose been obsessed with her home for seasons who doesn't want the throne instead of the guy who literally wanted to GTFO in the first place and keeps insisting she take the Master Bedroom instead? I smell sexist BS.
Every time I’m faced with a decision, I close my eyes and see the same picture. Whenever I consider an action, I ask myself, “Will this action help to make this picture a reality? Pull it out of my mind and into the world?” And I only act if the answer is yes. A picture of me on the Iron Throne and you by my side.
A dog can smell a lie, you know, the Hound had told her once. She could almost hear the rough rasp of his voice.
Look around you, and take a good whiff. They’re all liars here, and every one better than you. She wondered what had become of Sandor Clegane.
“How long have you known?” Jon asked, storming into your room, seemingly forgetting to knock. You turned away from the dresses you were folding to see him fuming a few feet away from you.
“You’re pregnant. How long have you known?” Your heart skipped a beat as you searched Jon’s face for even a slight chance of happiness behind his anger.
“How long?” he interrupted you again before you could ask him how he knew, when you hadn’t known for that long, either.
“A month or so,” you said, dropping your head. Jon let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his curly locks.
“Y/N, you should have told me,” he said, whining almost.
“How did you find out?”
“Sansa,” he said, sitting down at the bench at the edge of your bed. You carefully walked over to him, sitting down next to him.
“How did she know?”
“She said she saw you leaving Maester Luwin’s, and said that you had been acting strange lately.” You sighed, and looked down at your hands.
“That was all you needed to storm in here?” He looked at you with stressed filled eyes before tutting out the slightest laugh.
“No, I spoke to him myself.”
“Hmm, seems like that information should be private,” you said, folding your hands in your lap and focusing on them once more.
“Not from the father.” You blew air out of your nose, and nodded softly. “I am the father, right?” he asked.
“Of course,” you said, touching his arm, giving him a worried look. He smiled at you softly, before looking away from you once more. You both stared at the fireplace on the other side of the room in silence for a minute.
“You should have told me,” he said, breaking the tension before dropping his face into his hands.
“I’m not sorry.”
“Excuse me?” he asked. You stood up and ran your hands through your hair, too.
“I’m not sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t think I would have to.”
“Why?” he asked, standing at your level. You rolled your eyes and put a hand on his chest, pushing him back softly. He was upset, but he was acting like you were one of his siblings he could just push around until he got what he wanted from them. You weren’t Arya, and you weren’t Robb. Jon couldn’t fight with you like he could them.
“I know you’re eager to fight, but please don’t act this way with me.” He sighed and backed up.
“Why did you feel like you didn’t have to tell me?”
“Because you’re leaving. That night was just suppose to be that one, right before you left.”
“It was an amazing night.”
“You’re right, it was. But I wasn’t expecting to get pregnant. When I found out, I wasn’t expecting to tell you either. I know you’ve been planning on joining the Night’s Watch for a long time, and I didn’t want to ruin that.”
“You getting pregnant does not ruin anything,” he said, taking a step closer to you. You scoffed and walked away from him.
“The hell it doesn’t.”
“Y/N,” he said, grabbing you by the arms as he moved towards you. You looked up at him as he rubbed your arms softly, smiling at you. “I don’t pretend to know the challenges you’re facing. But I’m not afraid. Would you relish being a bastard’s wife? Unable to provide for your life?”
“I’d relish being your wife,” you said honestly, looking away from him. He smiled and tilted your head up slightly to kiss your forehead. When he looked at you he saw you were crying a little bit.
“Look at where you are, and where you started. The fact that you are alive is a miracle. I don’t want you to ruin all of that because of me and this child.”
“Jon you deserve to go far away from the pains that this place holds for you, and I don’t want to be the one to keep you from doing that. Our child will understand in time, too, why you had to do it.”
“I can’t ask you to give up your life for me,” you said, shaking your head.
“I wouldn’t be. Let me be a part of this narrative. Let me be a part of my child’s life.”
“If this child shares a fraction of your smile, or a fragment of your heart, that would be enough for me.” Jon shook his head and laughed in frustration. He cupped your cheeks in his face and looked you in the eye, making sure you were unable to look anywhere else.
“Let me inside of your heart, Y/N. Let me show you that I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to leave you and my child alone. I think I deserve a chance to meet my child.”
“You do,” you said, touching his cheek.
“And not just on visits, or when he’s old enough to join the Night’s Watch.” You sighed as he leaned in to kiss your forehead again. “It will be okay. We can do this.”
“You won’t go?” you asked. He shook his head. “You don’t have to stay.”
“My child won’t be a bastard,” he said firmly.
“I don’t want you to give up on your dreams.”
“The Night’s Watch isn’t as much of a dream as it is an escape. You’re the dream,” he said. You sighed and he pulled you in for a kiss on the lips. “Please don’t make me fight for this.”
“I could be enough?” you asked.
“You’re more than enough. You’re everything, Y/N.” You smiled and he kissed your again quickly. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” you said with a laugh. Even though you hadn’t been together for that long, you had always loved Jon, and knew that he was being honest. He leaned in to kiss you again, smiling wider than you had seen him in months.