- Author's Note - Hey, guys! So, the idea for this story came to me during Season 6, and during my recent re-watch of the first five seasons. I'm also currently reading the first book for the first time. Anyway, please be kind in your reviews, which I very much hope you all send! This is my first attempt at a Game of Thrones story.

The role of Elena Stark is portrayed by actress Nina Dobrev. She's the Cover Image for this story, and there's also links for her, such as her Instagram, in my Profile, so be sure to check them out!

Originally, I was going to call Elena "Lyanna", and have Benjen have named her after his sister Lyanna Stark, but since Elena is also a Stark, so her name would as well have been Lyanna Stark, I thought it might be too confusing. But, if you guys would like her name to be Lyanna, or have any suggestions on a different one, let me know!

This story begins with episode 4x01 of the show. I hope you all enjoy, please review, and, again, please also be kind!

"Open the gate!"

She'd made it. She'd actually made it. She had no idea how. She'd spent a month in the woods, traveling, surviving, vomiting up her own blood. But she'd made it. She was at the Wall. She was safe. She was with her Father, and Ghost, and Jon once more.

Elena Stark, the daughter of Benjen Stark, rode on white horseback through the open gate at Castle Black. Were its occupants not so surprised to see a beautiful young woman at Wall, they probably would've noticed she looked like death.

A small group of the Night's Watch approached her, as she brought her horse to a halt in the courtyard. Among them were Sam, Pyp, Grenn, and Ed, all of whom gazed curiously up at her.

"Can we help you, Milady?" asked Ed, while the gate being closed echoed throughout the area.

"Are you all right?" Sam inquired, moving forward to stand beside his friend, his brow furrowed in concern, as he noticed Elena's condition. She looked completely and utterly exhausted, both physically, as well as mentally, her dress and cloak were torn, and, along with her boots, were coated in dirt, mud, and dried blood. His eyes widened at this sight.

"My Father," Elena said. Her voice was weak, and hoarse, from the soreness of her throat. She looked like she was ready to fall to the ground, especially when she closed her eyes to both fight off a fresh wave of dizziness, as well as attempt to bring some much needed moisture to her mouth, before she tried to speak again. "My Father. . . Please, is he here?"

"Pyp, get Maester Aemon," Sam ordered, stepping closer to the horse, while Pyp did as he said, and held up his arms to the young woman on it. "Here. Let me help you down, My Lady." He noticed, as he stood there, that there was an emblem on the saddle. It was a Wolf. A Direwolf. This was a Stark saddle. A Stark horse. A Stark lady. He knew who she was. Jon had a portrait of her, a small one, but one he'd carried with him this entire time at the Night's Watch. "You're Elena. Jon's Elena. And First Ranger Stark's daughter."

"Yes, I am," she replied, with a soft smile.

Sam turned to Grenn, and nodded his head at the Great Hall, where Jon was currently meeting with the Council on his recent dealings with the Wildlings and the death of Qhorin Halfhand. "Go and fetch Jon. Tell him his cousin's alive. Bring him here." As the man rushed off after Pyp, who was going to the same building of the Castle, Sam turned back to Elena. "We thought you were dead, My Lady. News of the Red Wedding arrived weeks ago." He offered her his arms once more. "Come."

Elena braced herself on the saddle's front, while she swung one leg over the horse's rear end, and began to dismount. Sam's hands found her waist beneath the layers of material, steadying her, until her feet touched the snowy ground. He started to retract his arms, but, as soon as he did, she almost collapsed, so he quickly caught her.

"My Lady," Sam said to her, gazing upon her beautiful dirt caked face in awe and confusion. "My Lady, what happened?"

Before Elena could respond, the doors of the Great Hall swung open with such force, they hit the walls they were secured to, and there stood Jon, with Maestor Aemon, acting Lord Commander Alliser Thorne, Janos Slynt, Pyp, and Grenn.

Their eyes met in that moment, and, for a few seconds, Jon seemed to be stunned into place, but he soon recovered, his gaze never leaving hers, while he turned, bolting down the nearby steps, then rushing across the courtyard toward her.

"Jon," Elena breathed, the sight of him giving her the strength to break away from Sam and his hold, and make her way to him.

"Elena!" he called, a few seconds before he got to her, and she collapsed in his arms that immediately reached out for her, wrapping securely around her delicate frame, holding her surely, and as close as possible, where he gazed into her beautiful face, one side of which he soon cradled with his hand. "My Gods, you're alive. You're here."

"Jon," Elena said once more. The relief she'd felt upon arriving at the Wall moments ago was nothing compared to the relief she felt now, reunited with him, being held in his arms, feeling the warmth and strength of his body, hearing his voice, experiencing his breath against her cheek.

"Hush now," Jon replied, even as he fought back the tears of joy, love, and his own relief that were filling his deep brown eyes. "You're safe now. I've got you." Pressing a kiss into her chocolate hued hair, which was somehow still silky and smelling of winter roses, as she always did, he looked over at the arrival of Maestor Aemon, Pyp at his side, guiding him along. "Maestor, help her, please."

The old man reached out, and touched Elena's nearest arm, while he gazed, as usual, unseeingly upward. "Carry her to your Chambers, Jon Snow. I'll examine her there."

Jon nodded, then gently shifted his grip on Elena, in order to bend down, and slip one arm beneath her knees, while the other gently tightened across her back, before he straightened up, now effortlessly holding her up off of the ground, in his embrace, against his upper body, and strode off with her, Pyp following with Maestor Aemon, while Sam guided Elena's horse away to be taken care of at the Stables.

As he walked with Elena in his arms, Jon could feel Alliser Thorne's gaze on him, seemingly attempting to burn a hateful hole into the boy with merely his eyes.

Once in his room, Jon gently laid Elena, who'd slipped into unconsciousness while he carried her, down onto his bed, and covered her with every blanket of fur he could find, in addition to his own cloak. He then got to his knees on one side of the bed, where he reached beneath the layers, in order to take up her cold slender hand, and cradle it lovingly between both of his warm large ones.

Maestor Aemon took up a position on the other side of the bed, soon sitting down there in the chair Pyp brought him.

"Be a good lad, and bring me my things," the Maestor said to Pyp, who quickly left the room to do so, while he himself reached out to lay a hand over Elena's forehead. "Poor child. To be the sole survivor of such a horrible event, left alone to fight her way here, to us."

"I should've been with her," said Jon, as he gazed into her beautiful face, which was still as she slept. "Ever since we were children together, I've known my place was at her side, as hers was mine, but I'm a Bastard, she's a Stark. I had to make peace with the fact that she'd be married to someone High Born, as she was, one day. I always thought it'd be Robb. And I couldn't bare to see her be another man's, so I left, I joined the Night's Watch."

"Well, you're together now, Jon Snow," replied Maestor Aemon, drawing the young man's gaze over to him. "Perhaps not in the way you wished to be as a boy, but, obviously, the Gods see it fit that the two of you remain at one another's side."

"I can't live without her, Maestor Aemon," Jon unashamedly admitted, before gently shaking his lush curly raven hued head. "I honestly didn't care what punishment Commander Thorne handed down to me today, but I hoped it'd be death, because a part of me has been dead for weeks, since we received news of the Red Wedding, and I believed her to be gone."

"Thankfully, I don't think you'll have to," said Maestor Aemon, as he reached beneath the blankets to grasp Elena's arm. "She's alive. She's weak, but she's alive. And I'm quite confident she'll remain that way, Jon Snow. Have no fear."

A bright smile of relief lit up Jon's handsome face at the old man's words, and he sent him a grateful look, before lifting the hand of Elena's that he was still cradling to his lips, where he pressed a kiss to it, then lowered his head, in order to rest his forehead against the delicate limb, which was slowly, but surely, warming up.

Hours later, when Elena awoke, Jon was still with her, though now seated in a chair at her beside, having fallen asleep there, since night had fallen, and continuing to grasp one of her now warmed slender hands, while a fire roared in the hearthside. The nearly constant icy chill she'd carried with her over the past month, as she battled her way from the Twins to the Wall, was now gone. She was not only warm again, but a bit of her strength had returned, enough so that she no longer feared becoming lightheaded or even losing consciousness every time she moved.

"Jon," Elena said, after turning her dark head against the pillows to look over at him, the sight of him causing a soft smile to light up her beautiful, albiet tired, face, and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze when he didn't stir. "Jon."

He woke up then, his gaze immediately turning toward her, and matching gentle smile illuminated his handsome features, at the sight of her looking over at him.

"Elena," Jon replied, as he moved off of the chair, in order to fall to his knees at her beside, where he shifted her hand into his other, so that he could use the now free limb to touch the top of her dark head on the pillows.

"Is it really you?" asked Elena, wishing she could reach over, and touch his face with her unoccupied hand. "You're not a dream?"

"No, I'm not a dream, Ellie," Jon answered, his soft smile widening, as he lovingly stroked her forehead, before a gentle sigh left him, while his deep brown eyes flashed with sadness. "I've missed you, so much."

"I've missed you too," replied Elena, the same emotion etching itself across her beautiful visage, as she thought of all the time they have been apart, since he left Winterfell for the Wall with her Father.

"I thought I'd lost you, like I've lost my Father, like I've lost Robb," said Jon, before his brow furrowed in confusion and question. "Ellie, how'd you survive? How'd you escape?"

"They knew about me," Elena explained, while her heart felt like it was suddenly clenched in an icy grip, as her mind filled with memories of the night of the Red Wedding, and realization dawned across Jon's handsome face. "They knew about my. . . magic. They knew I could fight them. So they posioned me." Her own rich chocolate hued orbs began to shimmer with tears in the light of the room's fire and lit candles. "I got so weak, so sick, so fast, and all I could do was watch as Robb, his pregnant wife, and my Aunt Catelyn were butchered, along with everybody else, even Grey Wind."

Her tears fell free then, gliding down off of her face sideways, from her position of lying on her back, and Jon gently tightened his hold on her hand.

"It's all right," he said, even though the sight of her in pain, as always, made his very soul ache. "I've got you. You're safe now. You're with me again."

Taking in a deep breath, which was trembling heavily, Elena released it, then went on. "But it wasn't enough to kill me. I was strong enough to get free. Though maybe they let me go. Maybe they expected me to die out there. I don't know. Nonetheless, I got on the first horse I saw, and didn't look back." A soft smile managed to shine through her sadness though, as she squeeze Jon's hand. "I knew there was only one place to go. I knew I had to get back to you."

Jon returned her gentle smile, raising her delicate limb up off of the bed, in order to press a kiss to its knuckles, and she stretched her fingers out to touch his warm cheek, grazing the soft skin with her fingertips, while her thumb rubbed across the roughness of his raven beard.

"Sam said you were asking for Benjen when you arrived," Jon spoke after a moment, continuing when Elena gazed curiously at him, since she didn't know the friend of his he was speaking about. "You met him in the Courtyard. He helped you from your horse."

"Oh," Elena said, before closing her eyes, and gently nodding her dark head. "Yes, I remember." Opening her rich chocolate orbs, she licked her lips. "Everything's blurred for me at one point or another over the last month. There was even a day when I wondered why I wasn't riding toward Winterfell. I must've thought he was here when I came through the gate." She gazed questioningly at Jon. The last letter she'd received from him had told her Benjen had been lost beyond the Wall. "He still hasn't returned?"

"No," Jon replied, hating to have to be the one to tell her these things. "A group of us went out to look for him and the others, but. . . we didn't find anyone."

"Where's Ghost?" asked Elena, her dark brow furrowing once again. The pure white Direwolf with piercing red eyes was like their son together, they and others would often joke.

When the Starks had found the puppies, Elena had chosen the runt of the litter to be hers, and Jon's. He was a Stark to her, and therefor Ghost would be theirs, not just hers. When Jon left for the Wall, Elena had sent Ghost with him, to protect him, since he knew no one, aside from her Father, at the Night's Watch, while she had the rest of their family and friends.

"He's. . . " Jon began, and he cursed himself for not having gone to look for the Wolf he shared with the girl he's loved since they were children growing up together, but he could only go where his Lord Commander sent him, plus he'd spent the last month recovering from the arrows of Ygritte's. When Sam had told him Bran had gone beyond the Wall, he'd wanted to go after his brother as well, but, again, he couldn't. "He went with us, when we went to look for Benjen and the others. But I. . . " He trailed off, lowering his gaze from hers, as he tried to put into words what happened to him after that.

Elena's dark brow furrowed at his actions, and she began to try to sit up, since her first instinct, as was his, was to comfort him, but he gently urged her to stay lying down. "Jon. Jon, what happened?"

"It's all right, Ellie," he said, but seeing him in distress had renewed a bit more of her strength, so she was able to more actively fight him. "Just lie back down."

"No, I will not," came her stubborn response, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight and sound of her familiar nature, so he let her rise the rest of the way into a sitting position on the bed. "What happened? Tell me."

"It's a long story," replied Jon, offering her what he hoped was a reassuring look. "And I promise I'll tell it to you, but later. Right now, you need to focus on getting better. All right?"

Sighing softly in defeat, Elena nodded. "All right. Just please tell me you believe Ghost is okay."

"I believe he's okay," Jon said, gazing firmly into her dark brown eyes with his own, and he truly did. Ghost was as much a part of the two of them, as they were of each other. He would know if something had happened to the Direwolf. And he knew Elena would too, but she was still so weak, something he also knew she hated being. "And I know we'll see him again. I promise."

"Okay," Elena answered. She believed him. It was that simple between them. They always implicitly trust each other's words.

"Now, if you feel up to it," Jon spoke, as he began to rise to his feet, while still maintaining his hold on one of her hands. "I'll have a bath prepared for you. And I'll see if any of the lads' clothing could possibly fit you."

"I think I've dreamed of a bath more than I have of you," Elena said with a smile, and Jon laughed softly at this, before nodding.

"All right," he said. "There's. . . There's a girl here. Her name is Gilly. She's a. . . " His brow furrowed, as he thought about how to word the Wildling girl. "She's a friend of Sam's. If you'd like, I could ask her to help you with your bath."

"So long as you trust her, yes, thank you," replied Elena.

"Good," Jon answered, and he lifted his free hand to lovingly cradle the back of her dark head, before he leaned down, pressing a kiss to its top. "I'll be back then."

Elena watched him stride over toward the door, but she called out to him before he could leave. "Jon!" She continued when he immediately stopped, then looked back over at her. "Promise me we'll never we apart again."

Jon didn't speak, he merely walked across the room once more, after meeting and holding her gaze with his own for a few seconds, his arms lifting when he was within a couple of feet of her, then reaching out, as he arrived at the bedside, to cup either side of her beautiful face, while he swooped down, and captured her lush pink lips with his own in a kiss.

He knew he shouldn't, he knew nothing more could happen between them, lest he break his Vows, though he knew she would be more than worth that, but he also knew he had to. He had to do something more than words to show her everything he was feeling, how grateful and full of joy he was at her being alive, at her being here with him, and, most importantly, how much he loved her, how much he'd always loved her, and how much he would always love her.

She kissed him back, pouring every bit as much emotion into it as he did, despite the fact that it was a relatively chaste single kiss, while her hands lifted to gently grasp his wrists.

After a moment, which seemed both only a few seconds in length and also an eternity, the two parted their mouths from one another, but rested their foreheads against each other's, eyes remaining closed.

"I promise," Jon said, once their matching rich chocolate hued orbs met, and Elena knew he meant it, that he meant everything, right down to his very heart and soul, as did she.

She could only nod, and enjoy the feeling of his large warm hands against the silky skin of her beautiful face for a bit longer, as he did hers overtop his own cradling said visage, before the two reluctantly pulled apart, and he left the room.