Sansa and Jorah did not leave the Vale that day or the next day or the next. Jorah continued to slowly convince her to leave but he didn't push too hard. He wanted her to leave willingly, not be kidnapped and dragged away against her will. For well over a fortnight he followed her everywhere. He kept Petyr Baelish from spending time alone with her as well as the few knights of the vale who occasionally took notice of her. He himself spent a great deal of time alone with her and he knew that Littlefinger was growing more and more jealous of him with every day that passed. It was a precarious situation to be in but he had no intention of leaving Sansa. He didn't know her well or think himself in love with her but he did enjoy her company and care for her welfare. Too many people had abandoned her since the time her father died and he would not be the next person to do so.
Then late one night long after he had fallen asleep, Ser Jorah heard a faint knock on his door. He put on his shirt and went to answer it. Sansa was there, her robe and sleeping shift were torn at the shoulder, her eyes red from weeping, and she had a bruise on her cheek.
"What happened?" He asked, concerned. She didn't budge. She seemed numb with shock or fear. He gently took her arm and pulled her into the room, then locked it shut behind her. "Are you alright? What happened?" He asked again.
"Petyr has a key to my room." She finally said. She was facing away from him, arms around her middle, hugging herself.
Jorah felt sick. He had failed to protect her. "Did he force himself on you?"
She nodded, struggling to hold back her tears. "He tried to. I hit him with a flower vase. The vase is broken and he is unconscious in my bed."
Ser Jorah breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. It's no less than he deserves."
"I can not go back to that room tonight…" She said anxiously.
"Will you leave this place with me then?" He asked her yet again. "I don't think he'll kill Harry. He needs the Lord of the Vale alive to maintain his power."
"Maybe… maybe you're right… but I'm afraid to leave… no one knows I'm here and Cersei Lannister still wants me dead… and I don't know how live in the woods or make fires like we will have to do if we leave here...I'd be completely useless out there...I'm afraid to leave…" Sansa said, her voice breaking.
Ser Jorah moved to stand in front of her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You wouldn't be useless. I can help you learn anything you would need to know. And I would keep you safe. I'll bring you to Bear Island. My sister was your father's banner-man and she would be glad to have you as a guest. You would be welcome there."
She looked up at him, tears still in her eyes. Being safe with her father's banner-man in the North sounded almost like a dream come true. "When can we leave?"
"We should leave in the dark. It's too late to go this night. Dawn will be here in a few hours."
"Then tomorrow night?' She suggested.
He nodded. "Tomorrow night."
"I'm still not going back to my room." She said almost stubbornly.
"Take my bed. I'll sleep on the divan."
Wordlessly, she took his offer and climbed into his bed. Jorah was soon fast asleep on the divan. With Ser Jorah between her and the door, and with the warm blankets around her enveloped in his scent, she felt safer than she had in many years.