Crystallize dew on blades of grass, the sky dawned with the strain of a raising sun trying to break through the thick clouds of a brewing storm, morning awakes but winter is here. Creatures of the north huddle in every nook and cranny seeking comfort in each others warmth. No different from the entangled limbs and protective embrace of two wolves seeking warmth and comfort under their furs.

This morning they are in the Lord's chamber. The night before it was Robb's old room and the night before that her Lady's chamber. The amenity of having a royal wing all to themselves though neither of them enjoyed it; perhaps that is why they wondered seeking each other in the night before nesting in the room they felt most connected to that night. Winterfell was their home but home felt empty, distant and far too quite.

Upon their first night at Winterfell per Sansa's insistence he took up the Lord's chamber. Their father and the Lady mother's room.

"I'm not a Stark."

"You are to me."

This brief memory fluttered through his thoughts only then did he allow himself to believe the Lady mother was not looking upon him disappointingly as he rested. He wasn't sleeping most nights as it was, coming back from the dead can do that to a man, if that was what he was anymore. The dreams were nightmarish at best, the loss of Ygritte, reliving his death, and most recently having the hope of reuniting with his brother Rickon torn maliciously from the bastard Ramsey. The sudden start along with the cold sweats was a nightly ritual often resulting in his early rises and journey out to the court yard to clear his mind. Tonight it appeared it would be no different even in the refuge of Winterfell, his home. He dressed swiftly and entered the hall of the royal wing.

In passing her Lady's chamber an alert Ghost sat, softly whining, his gaze fixed on Sansa's door. Ghost had become Sansa's newest shadow in addition to Lady Brienne. Again if not for Sansa's graceful command the Lady Knight would more then likely be the one sleeping outside her door instead of Ghost. Noticing Jon's presence Ghost accepted the petting of his snout which lead to the top of his head. If worry were written it was clearly inked upon the direwolf's features.

Despite the thickness of the chamber door Jon could clearly here the rustling within, thinking it odd for his sister to still be up he raised his hand to knock when the noise within stopped. Letting his hand drop he waited a breath or two. 'We are safe, we are home.' Jon repeated to himself in an effort to calm his unsettled thoughts. He waited another beat before turning to head out when he heard a soft cry, "No, no please stop." Formality be damned the white wolf entered the chamber on guard, his eyes already adjusted to the night, he quickly sought out Sansa.

The image before him took the very breath from his lungs. There were no others in the room, as he feared, all the same the outer lights revealed her frail figure hugging her knees before her head jerked up, her body tense at his sudden intrusion, the fear ever clear through her exposed tear filled expression. Her features soften with his recognition. He didn't know the details, he didn't know if he ever wanted to know the details, all that was certain is that the woman… 'God's when did she become a woman?' he shook his head to child his thoughts. The woman, the Lady of Winterfell, his sister was being tortured by her own demon much like himself.

He cautioned his steps towards her, "Sansa?" his voice was thick having only now spoken after his own awaking moment. "Sansa, it's me Jon. No one else, just me." As he came closer he noticed her body relax slightly.

"Jon? Jon I'm… I'm sorry did I wake you?"

"No, I heard you in passing. You put me in a panic. Should I get you anything? Would you perfer Lady Brienne?" even though he promised to be the one to protect her, he imagined the demon's she was fighting in her sleep to be the venomous bastard Ramsey and that a male figure wouldn't offer much comfort towards her hatred. Even in death that Bolton bastard still haunted her dreams.

"No, no please don't go," her pleading look caused another rift in his heart.

"Alright Sweetling I'll stay till you fall back asleep," he found his way back to the door, a distraction from the heat that rose to his cheeks. 'Sweetling?' Where did that come from?' Ghost was already laid out to block and guard the way; Jon quietly closed the door. Sansa watched him from her bed. Even in the dim of night she saw the tired in his strong and worried features. She was feeling awful for waking him till she saw him discard his heavy pelt cloak, the one she had made for him, upon one of the sitting chairs. "Where you leaving?" her voiced cracked suddenly. He removed his boots and had begun his descent into the chair when she spoke. "Just to the yard. Sleep is hard to find some nights. So I walk and watch the night," he grinned at this. His watch never really ended he supposed. She nodded her in understanding.

The red wolf laid back upon the pillows pulling the fur up towards her chin. She laid but still felt uneasy when she tried to close her eyes. Memories could be so cruel. They didn't use to be. Being here in Winterfell Sansa felt hopeful that the happy memories of her family and time spent would chase away the darkness that visited nightly. Her breath caught as dark cruel hues watched her, bloodied hands reaching for her, 'you will watch as my soldiers take turns raping your sister, you will watch as my dogs devour your wild little brother, then I will spoon your eyes from their sockets and let my dogs do the rest. Come and see' She sat up once again trying to control the panic that was encircling her heart.

"Jon!? Would you, would you mind laying over here?," she laid her hand to the empty space beside her. Her request was somewhat hesitant and so was his response. "Aye," came the soft reply sensing her unrest. He was dressed for the cold of winter so with torpid movement he discarded his outer jacket, laying it with the pelt. Having caught herself staring as he undressed further Sansa quickly averted her gaze to the furs turning them down for him. She felt almost foolish as a slight red painted her cheeks. Left in his trousers and linen shirt Jon made his way to the other side of the bed and slipped into the warmth.

Both laid there uncertain and quite. It's not like they haven't shared a bed before; granted it had been as children during a storm and with four of their other siblings. Sansa's throat tighten. Father, mother, Robb, Rickon they were gone. Arya and Bran they could still be out there, they could still be alive. She turned to see Jon's resting profile. Jon. He was here.

Jon is Jon. He's my brother. He'll keep me safe. I trust him.

He had promised to keep her safe. Even after mocking him with no one can keep anyone safe, he chased down that bastard Ramsey. Beat him to near death for Rickon for all the unspeakable he did to her yet he stopped for her. He knew, as did she, as they looked at one another, the snow falling around them. She would be the one to take his life. She passed the sentence and being her father's daughter she stood firm as she watch the dogs tear into Ramsey's flesh.

'Jon's here. It's just the two of us now.' Sansa mused still gazing at his shut lids and his dark curls. He had forgiven her childhood stigmatize of him in a instant. Jon who had unknowingly became her strength in the midst of the chaos. He had given her due credit and acknowledged his folly. He had changed so much these past few years. He would keep her safe. This she believed with her whole heart.

She reached for him, "Jon?" He felt her hand snake through the furs, turning his head to look at her, he met her hand with his own lacing their fingers. Silent tears traveled the path across her cheeks and nose, for once the tears weren't shed to sadness or pain. "Thank you," she managed to squeak out. Even though confusion was etched in his brow at her words he shifted towards her, wrapping her in an embrace, her head laid on his chest arm wrapped round his waist. The awkward passed as the two held each other through the night offering a comfort from one another that even they didn't know they could give to the other.