A/N: Hello again, thank you all for the support and encouraging words -its really helped me get this chapter up so soon after the previous one. I find it really strange that I have only had 2 chapters out for this story and I already have more than half the followers I have for my other 34-chaptered story...I don't get it. This chapter was surprisingly SO easy to write. I was dreading approaching it cause now I feel like people have higher expectations but I was literally just on break at uni and basically did it all in one go.

Dread Knight N7: Jon is TECHNICALLY not part of the Watch anymore but it's not something he's really willing to take into review or think about for the moment (you're really great at catching on!). And the reason I mentioned Olly was because usually I only tend to stick to the books exclusively but I figured that most of the people reading this have only watched the show and I really wanted to include Olly for recognition -also I wanted to kind of emphasise Jon's feeling of vengeance and no remorse by coldly executing a kid -messed up, I know. But yeah in general my fanfics are in line with the book.

Guest: Hmmm...do you want him to go after the Boltons? That's an entirely different matter altogether. Jon has to be at the Wall for now to maintain control of it but let's just say changes will be made and the Boltons are not completely off the table. I'm glad you like it and I hope you enjoy!

I didn't want to keep it too long so this chapter you'll see Sam's return to the Wall and Jon meeting Talla for the first time -filler chapters are such a bitch to write. Thank you so much for the support and i'm happy to answer any questions you have!

Samwell

It had been to Samwell -by far, the most exhausting 18 days of his life. There was no denying that the physical aspect of the journey had taken a great toll on him -as well as the lack of any sleep whatsoever. But Samwell found that it was all a simple kind of suffering that he had gotten used to in comparison to Talla's incessant questions. I'll never get used to those.

During their first official day's ride Sam had handed her the letter he had received from the Wall and she had read it over and over again trying to extract the truth from ink on a page. He had almost scoffed, and was a little offended that she had assumed she'd be able to determine something he would have missed.

"He's my best friend, Talla" He had said, hoping she would understand that when one receives such grievous news of someone who is not only his best friend but the bravest man he had ever known you may be excused from making any rash decisions. Instead all she had said was,

"I wouldn't know anything about that." She reminded him of Gilly then. And it made him realise that though he was sworn to an unbreakable spoken oath -she was sworn to an unspoken one.

"Why would they kill him?"

"We're not sure they have killed him."

"Then why would they tell you they did?"

"I don't know, Talla"

"Why would someone write you a letter that the Lord Commander of the Wall has been "slain" and have a messenger follow and track you to deliver it with the "utmost urgency" if it wasn't even true?"

She sure had a tendency to think things through. For someone who was running away from Randyll Tarly she sure spoke a great deal like him.

And Sam had met her with silence. Which he continued to do for a good chunk of the journey in which she would point out how irrational his decision was. Coming from the girl who jumped in a carriage to go to the Wall of all places.

When she wasn't being annoyingly logical they spoke of the years that they had been apart. To be more exact, she had asked -and he had informed her. He learned to stop asking after he she had coldly changed the subject to him after he had asked whether she'd even left Horn Hill at all.

So he told her about the Wall, and about Jon and Maester Aemon and Grenn and Pyp and all the things he had done beyond the Wall. And he was surprised to find that she was not as skeptical as he would have thought she'd be.

"You really do believe me don't you?"

"Why? Are you lying?" She teased.

"No, I just thought you'd be less trusting. Especially if someone you hadn't seen in years just told you that White Walkers were real and all."

"Well, I for one know you're a terrible liar. And you're not just anyone." She lay her head on his shoulder, and though they were nearing the Wolfswood then, his heart had warmed a little against the biting cold.

She hadn't change at all but at the same time she had. She was seemingly leagues away from the girl he had known. They had not exactly been the closest of siblings, not like he knew Jon was with his own, but she was the kindest to him. They would play together before their father had a chance to tear Sam away. They had both endured the same scoldings and the same awkward dinners where their plates would not be filled.

"A fat child is the last thing anyone needs." He'd remember his father muttering at dinner. He was the only one allowed to mutter.

Having a first son as meek and un-agile was one thing -but having a daughter who was not comely enough, especially in the Reach, was a different matter altogether. Perhaps Randyll Tarly had planned all along that Sam would be sent away, but there was nothing one could do with a fat daughter but terrorise her into shape -at least not in Randyll Tarly's eyes. No, an undesirable bride would just be a burden to her parents and to her house in the eyes of his father, and he realised that that was probably why Talla had to endure the same upbringing as he had.

They had just passed the New Gift, which Sam could see was now well inhabited and fairly settled, but he did not change course to pass through it. No need to be too hasty. Not with Wildlings at least.

As they rode past the rising smoke, the distant movement and the soundless rumble -all signs of life, he realised how quiet his sister had gotten.

The cold had gotten the better of her. She had been cold since the Riverlands, and once they had gotten to Moat Cailin he had acceded his own fur cloak onto her bony shoulders. But now she sat still with only her shivers as a sign of movement and her nose and cheeks were pink from the harsh wind and Sam found it a little alien that such a comely blush could make her look so lifeless.

Perhaps she's not meant for the quiet, he thought. He let a laugh escape him as he realised that perhaps he was not all that different -and how Jon was the complete opposite.

His smile fell from his face at the mention of Jon and he quickly tried to shake the thought away and with it the possibility that it was all true. He had not wanted to think of it, of any of it, and so Talla's company -however annoying it may have been, was a growing necessity to his state of denial. Or perhaps it was folly in itself, perhaps if he was given the chance to rethink his actions he would have made the call to turn back. But he knew he was no good at making the tough calls, that was Jon's job.

He couldn't imagine him dead, not without all his limbs crumbling underneath him, and so he decided that for the time being -he wasn't. For the time being, Jon was just a portrait in Sam's head. But as he spotted the first signs of Castle Black, he remembered that it was all about to be crushed -regardless of whether he wanted to face it or not.

"Talla?" He asked, half wanting to be distracted and half wanting to make sure she was still alive.

"Hmm?" She answered after she had pulled herself out of her stormy daze. Her voice was still very little and he could barely here it over the blowing wind.

"That's Castle Black over there, can you see it?" He watched as her eyes moved from the East to the North, where they were facing. Her face barely moved, except for her eyebrows of only jumped lazily in recognition. In all truth he would have thought that the sight of Castle Black would have been a little more...overwhelming to her. Not even a gasp, or an excited "oh"?

"You know for someone who's barely left Horn Hill you don't seem all that excited to see the most impressive monument in Westeros." He nudged her with a smile, hoping to coax the same out of her. They had only been riding for a little less than three weeks, but her face devoid of her upturned mouth did not sit well with him. She did not seem like herself without it.

"I'm just cold" He could only sympathise with her. He had had far more body fat on him than she did when he had first arrived at the Wall, and it was still unbearable to sleep at night.

"Well it won't get any warmer when he get there. Do you want to sit in the carriage?"

"No," she replied immediately, whipping her head to him and then turning back in embarrassment, "I want to stay with you." And then she returned her little head to rest perfectly on his shoulders and looped her hand through his. Even without looking he could feel her eyes drooping.

"Look, no matter what happens about Jon when we get there," He tried to fill the silence with his own ramblings, "let's not forget that Castle Black is not a woman's place. It's why I had to get Gilly out of there. You're to be careful at all times and you'll not be walking about by yourself without me or..or someone else I trust with you. Is that understood?" He never imagined he'd be the one giving orders.

"Mhm" was all she replied as she placed another hand over his and curled closer into him, searching for a warmth she didn't have with his fur gone.

Her breath slowed and her grip tightened, and when Sam looked over her again her lips were blue. She was too cold, and she hadn't had enough to eat to warm her.

"Talla" he tried to shake her awake but she did not respond.

He tightened his grip on the reins as he ordered the horses faster, they were only breaths away from Castle Black.

Just hold on till then, he silently prayed.

Jon

"Open the gates!" He heard Pyp yell, and he grew suddenly annoyed that he had given explicit permission not to open the outer gates for anyone. Everything felt more irritating now, and his patience was shorter and shorter with each passing day. He could not explain it, and everyone else was too scared to blame him for it.

Shortly after he had awaken -he was not yet sure what to call it, after the initial shock and ensuing blood bath he had tried to find Melisandre. She was nowhere to be found in the Wall and he had even sent riders out to scour for her -but it was like she had disappeared into thin air. With Stannis's army gone and destroyed there was not another place that Jon could think of to look for her -but he knew he had to find her. He needed to know what she had done to him. He needed to know whether he was still him or something else.

"Pyp!" He yelled from his station, scowling deeply and placing his hand on his hips.

"It's Sam!" He yelled back with his eyes wide and his ears somehow moving, "It's Sam!"

The smile that graced Pyp's face was one he had not seen for weeks, and so was the one on his own. He had never thought he'd see Sam again, at least not for a long while. He's supposed to be at the Citadel, he frantically thought, he's not supposed to be anywhere near here -he's not even supposed to be in Westeros. And yet he apparently was. Another miraculous return at the Wall and all under the same moon. He half expected his uncle Benjen to come strolling in after a mighty long range.

He rushed down the stairs and towards the gate. The screechy defense rolled away and as sure as it was cold; it was Sam.

Where did he get a carriage?

He heard the younger boys cheer for him, but his face was only allowed a moment's joy before it flipped back to desperation, and it was only then that the mass curled into his friend was not just a blanket or some extra weight -it was a person.

"I need help!" He called, and this time Jon's feet did not fail him as he was the first to rush to his side. He reached out to pull back the furs keeping the unidentified person prisoner but before he could he felt Sam's large grip on his arm.

"Jon," he cried, and in that moment Jon forgot that he had ever died and come back. A stray tear stayed captive in Sam's paling eye as he looked upon his friend, hovering over him like a ghost, "You're alright. I knew you'd be alright."

And before he could respond, not knowing if he even could, Sam reached down and clasped his shoulder tightly ;pulling him in for a tight -but thankfully short, embrace. When he pulled away, still not able to speak, he registered the recollection on Sam's face.

"Oh Gods, Talla. I need you to help me get her down." Sam rushed, sniffling slightly in the process -which both Jon and the rest of the men huddled around him chose to ignore, instead choosing to focus their attention back on this "Talla" creature.

Sam carefully peeled back the fur to reveal the person underneath it. Talla, he thought. Her hair was unsuccessfully bound to control due to the wild wind and it randomly fell frenzied around her round face. Her eyes were closed and her lips blue, signs that she was slipping to the cold. A wildling, he thought at first but then realised that there was no way a wildling woman would be a wearing a dress -even one was meager as the one she was wearing. There was an underlying glow to her skin; even when it had become to pale and lifeless, one that Jon recognized signified that there was no way she was Northborn.

"I need to get her warm" Sam muttered nervously, his own teeth chattering loudly. It was then that Jon registered that Sam didn't have his fur on.

As Sam peeled the girl off the rider's seat and into his arms Jon removed his own cloak and placed it around her.

"Pyp!" He called, commanding control with his thunderous voice and within half a second Pyp had appeared -his ears standing to attention.

"Go get Sam a cloak. Grenn, get a fire started in Sam's room and a bucket of water on the boil." He ordered as he was already walking away with Sam.

He lead him swiftly through the training yard with a hand on his shoulder like he had somehow forgotten where everything was, and when Sam almost dropped the girl as they climbed up the stairs he wordlessly grabbed her from him and continued on the rest of the way to Sam's room. Her skin was cold, far cold than he had felt in a long while, but her mouth was moving slightly and he felt the vibration of her soft grumbles against his neck -he would not have been able to hear them otherwise, so that meant that she was still holding on. Her neck fell flailing as he bounced up the steps and rushed to the room and Jon noted the constellation of beauty marks that dotted her small neck. A girl like you doesn't belong at the Wall.

They burst into Sam's room and laid her on his bed, still infested with furs, as Grenn followed behind them swiftly with logs in his hand and Jon heard the heavy pitter patter of Ghost entering and approaching.

Ghost had been careful to not leave Jon's side since the incident. They had locked him up -trapped him, so he couldn't stop harm from coming to his master. They didn't have the courage to kill Ghost, they could not kill the beast when he was not as defenseless as their Lord Commander.

And per his newly reformed attachment Ghost huddled closely to Jon as he simultaneously examined and sniffed at the near lifeless body lying in the low bed before them.

The previously cold room was now warming, slowly but surely, and Jon stepped back slightly to watch as Sam fussed over the girl he had brought, trying to understand who she was and what she meant to Sam. After a few minutes had passed he looked around and found that the group of them were just standing there and observing the whole exchange.

"Everyone out." He ordered, and they all wordlessly obeyed, though this time they did take longer to do so. He caught Grenn's eye watching the figure on the bed as he left and resisted the urge to roll his eyes at him. He knew that look very well -fear of the unknown. This is why women don't belong at the Wall. It seemed that as soon as one woman leaves the Wall another is bound to take her place.

"Sam," He said gently, far more gentle than he had done in a while, "who is she?"

As soon as Sam had undone the woman's hair and settled a blanket over her cold hands he turned to Jon without meeting his eyes,

"It's my sister." If multiple stab wounds could not kill Jon he wondered is this would.

"Your sister? You have a sister?"

Sam looked back and forth between them, and that nervous laugh that was almost signature to him finally made its return. Before he could answer Jon had interrupted him once more,

"Why would you bring her here? Why are you here? Where's Gilly, Sam?" His voice was slowly rising without him realizing it and the blood was rushing to his brain as he came to the understanding that Randyll Tarly's daughter was at the Wall under his watch.

"Look I...I.. I didn't know she was coming I was already a day's ride away from Horn Hill when I found her in the carriage and...and I had to leave Gilly and the baby at Horn Hill with mother and-"

"What are you doing here Sam?" He asked almost pleading. Sam was on his way to a better life, to be a better man and get the knowledge he had always wanted. He was going to be a Maester and return here and help people the way Maester Aemon did. He was supposed to be safe, and away from the Wall -at least for a while, away from the Whites and the betrayal and the cold. Why in all the Seven Hells was he back here?

"I got a letter." He replied, almost like he was forcing the words out as he stared on into the newly pitched fire. "They said...they said you were dead." And his words were so choked back that it made Jon wonder how long he had kept that to himself for.

No longer in need of any more words, Jon understood. He had come back for him, to fight for whatever it was he would have found to be left of him.

"You're not tired of bringing women to the Wall?"

"What happened here, Jon?" It was a strange turning of the tables -Jon was trying to humor his way out of talking and Sam was being serious. He could see how silly he may have looked now.

"Come to the study, let your sister sleep."

"No, I can't leave her like this."

"Alright." He said with a voice that had now returned to fairly normal levels. He pulled up a chair next to the bed and took a seat, to Sam's surprise. But he did not miss the small smile carving its way through Sam's mouth as he took a chair of his own and sat on the other side of the bed facing Jon.

He looked back at the girl, Talla, closely inspected her face. She looked kind, even with her brows held together by an invisible band of perplexity, and with her hair loose it looked as if she was lying in a mud river -he could physically see her thawing out as the soft light of the fire melted through her initial iciness and her features slowly came together.

"She looks a little like you." He said as he finally looked back at Sam, who was now wearing his small smile on his face once more.

"Don't say that while she's awake."

They laughed. And though there was still a hollow in Jon that he did not yet know how to fill, it felt good to laugh.

.

Talla

All she could remember was slowly fading away before she heard men yelling and hands like fire clutching her tightly. She heard two men talking as she lay down, the sudden warmth burning her frosted fingers before she fell back into the dark.

She dreamed of a man in blue with night leaving his lips and pure ice in his eyes. He circled her over and over again, keeping her on edge as she watched and waited for his attack. And then after what felt like centuries he leaped over her like a feral feline and hovered over her as he watched, with ever blue and ever glowing eyes before he opened his mouth and a cave of crystals showed itself to her. She reached up to examine the shards of glowing ice and pricked her finger on their sharpened points and the pain in her fingers traveled through her and jolted her to waken.

She was a in a room now, on a bed, but the unfamiliarity of the room threw her off before she could rejoice at being horizontal again. She climbed her way out of the thick furs piled over her and looked around profusely for any sign of life -there was none. The fire burned intensely from where she was sat and she got out of the bed and settled herself in front of the fireplace to allow her face and fingers to enjoy the warm glow of the flames.

She soon grew bored, and she did not forget that she still didn't know where they were. How could she be sure they had gotten to Castle Black? And where was her brother? Had someone done something to him? Why isn't he here? The warmth suddenly only fueled her ensuing panic and she found her feet -suddenly strong with rest, marching to the door as she grabbed whichever fur her hands had landed on.

The latch on the door was shaky but with a push Talla had managed to burst the door open. She stood in between the stifling warmth of the room and harsh and dry cold of the outside. She wasn't sure what she was looking at, but it was quite close to whatever she had imagined the Wall to be.

She heard noise, men's laughter and out of tune singing, come from underneath her and she held the railing tightly as she looked down to find a group of drunken men in black rumbling the night away -she also did not miss the lone man standing to the side of them pissing on the snow. But even as she looked through all of their faces while they were still oblivious to her existence it was clear that Sam was not with them. She looked to her side as she heard a soft movement and her eyes blurred with shock as an unidentified sound left her mouth at the sight.

It was a wolf. A huge white wolf staring right at her with his eyes a deep red. She stood completely still -unable to move as the wolf approached her slowly and sniffed at her dress. And then strangely, as if it could sense Talla's fear, it rubbed its head onto her knee and thigh as he sat by her side. She had to grab the railings next to her just to hold still and she feared her lower lip would be bloody after all the pressure her teeth had been applying to it. She could feel the stares from beneath her but no one said anything, it was silent except for the quiet panting of the wolf and the controlled breaths of panic coming from Talla.

The wolf pushed closer to her and she squealed once more at the contact before it lifted its head up to look at her once more and open its mouth. Though Talla could see all of its sharp and usually frightening teeth she couldn't help but feel that it looked like a normal dog from this angle. She never got the opportunity to relax, though, because before she could do that another door burst open and she once again tightened her grip on the railing as she anticipated the upcoming exits.

To her relief it was Sam that stepped out of the room to her left and she could finally exhale at the first sign of familiarity. He was closely followed by a man with dark hair and dark eyes, his frown seemingly ingrained into his face. The dark haired man placed on hand on his hip, revealing a sword with a white handle on it -Talla could still not make out what its shape was, and he whistled in the direction of the beast currently invading Talla's personal space.

"Ghost, come here" And the wolf immediately left Talla's side to stand next to what was apparently his master.

"Talla what are you doing out here?!" Sam exclaimed at her, not doing a good job at diverting the attentions of the onlookers.

"I...I...You weren't there." A painful look of regret crossed Sam's faice and Talla almost winced at how weak her statement made her sound.

"Let's get you back inside." He stated, and Talla understood that at least for now it was not her place to argue.

They both stepped inside carefully, like they were watching out for something that may have hidden inside, and he placed a cautious hand on her elbow as he led her to the bed. To her surprise the wolf once again sought her out and made its way to her bed side. Her feet stood alert as it sat by them, rubbing its head once again to her. Talla audibly held her breath and looked to Sam desperately, wondering whether she was at all wrong for fearing the beast.

"It's alright, he won't hurt you." Sam smiled reassuringly and she found it in her to exhale.

"What is it?" She asked, the remnants of the cold still shaking through her voice.

"He's a direwolf." She heard a voice say, a voice that was not the same exact voice she had been hearing for the past eighteen days, a voice that was not Sam's.

She looked to the source and found the same dark haired man she had seen behind her brother was standing in the room, she supposed she was far too preoccupied worrying about the direwolf at her feet to notice anyone else slip in.

Sam looked between the two and duly made to introduce them.

"Talla this is Lord Commander Snow, the one I was telling you about." Realisation dawned on her at the mention of the name.

"You're Jon?" She mustered up some excitement and smiled, "Sam's told me so much about you."

He did not smile back.

"Can't say the same" She chose to ignore his sour comment and instead looked back at the mass of white fur placing its paws on her lap and sniffing at her hands.

Hesitantly -and still feeling eyes boring into her, she reached out to touch the creatures and her hands were lost in a pile of white. It licked her hand enthusiastically and rubbed up closer to her and she giggled at the giddiness of such a formidable looking creature.

"Does he have a name?" She fleetingly turned and asked, not knowing who her question was even directed to.

"Ghost." Answered the deadpan Lord Commander.

"How cheerful" she said without looking at him. Instead, she continued, "Sam's very happy you seem to be in good health, aren't you Sam?" It was a question directed at Sam but it felt like she was addressing Ghost.

"He's not a pet" was all he muttered and she whipped her head back wondering how such an affectionate creature could have such a miserable master -which was a shame because he was a fairly handsome man.

Before she knew it her face was red and she felt all the feelings come over her -the fact that she was away from home and that all of this had probably been a terrible idea, the fact that she was intruding and she didn't belong her and she was probably far more trouble than they needed all flooded over her and the only thing she could to was spill her words out in response.

"Someone's not very happy to be alive" She said, trying to keep her voice as even and indifferent as she could.

Jon Snow just blinked slowly at her, and a small victorious smile crept up on him as Talla could see from the side of her vision that Sam was merely standing there with a horrified expression on his face.

"I'll leave Ghost to stand guard by your door. You have a good night, M'Lady. We'll talk more in the morning." And with the whirl of his cloak, as black as his eyes, he was out into the cold once more.

"dang lol talla is kept away from jon most of the time cause they catching up with sam n shit"

The above, ladies and gentlemen, was my initial chapter summary for this. You gotta start somewhere!

Stay tuned for the next chapter where we'll see Talla and Jon's true(ish) colours around each other.