Anya would have felt guilty had she not felt full of elation at that moment in time. She was laid on her bed, pressed against the wall as Jon Snow rested by her side, his hand entangled with hers whilst his other hand pushed slowly down the locks on top of her head. She had her head resting on his chest and the sheets pulled up to her chin in a feeble attempt to keep her warm. The fire was still roaring in the corner and Castle Black was full of sleeping men.
She had not pushed the topic with Jon further, but she knew that she had to approach it again. She had to make Jon see that she did not wish to go. She feared leaving. She feared what was beyond the Wall. She had only ever known Craster's Keep her entire life. She wanted to persuade Jon that she was strong enough to stand on her own two feet. She knew that she was. But she didn't want that. She wanted to stay with Jon, not just for her safety, but because she wanted him.
She was being foolish, and she knew that. It would be safer to go with Stannis and look after Princess Shireen, but Anya was nothing if not determined. She was determined not to go.
"Don't send me away," Anya pleaded with Jon, closing her eyes as she heard him inhale a sharp breath and she wondered if she was pushing her luck again. Was it too much for her to have a moment of happiness before it was snatched away? "I understand, Jon. I know why you want to send me…but…you need to understand why I don't want to go."
Jon exhaled loudly and looked down to Anya as she remained on his leather clad chest. "I cannot always be here to protect you, Anya."
"There is more than that," Anya assured him. "You…I have spent my entire life at Craster's Keep. I remember spending days wondering what life would be like in the South. I was taught of places there…places where the sun would shine and you could feel its heat…where you could go in the water and not be cold…it sounded perfect…and then you came. You came and I went further south than I had ever been and I wondered what would happen if I kept on going."
Anya went silent for a moment as Jon continued to play with her hair, his lips moving to her knuckles to urge her to keep on talking. She went silent for a few brief moments, her eyes closing as she focused on the feeling of Jon's chest rising and falling underneath her cheek.
"And then I stayed here for a while and…I realised just how scared I was," Anya spoke. "What is beyond this Wall? Is it safe? Would I fare well? All of these questions…and I am scared to know the answer. I…I never thought that I would be alone when I went south."
Jon shook his head. "You won't be alone. Stannis has promised you protection."
"But I will never be an equal to his daughter," Anya whispered. "You have seen the way the Queen looks at me. People see me as nothing but a common wildling."
"Because people do not know you," Jon told her and she moved to rest her chin on his chest so that she could look him in the eye. "If people took time to know you, Anya, then they would know who you are…"
Anya shook her head, closing her eyes. "I am no one," she admitted. "I know that, Jon. The men here look at me like that…everyone does…I have been no one of importance my entire life."
"That is not true," Jon told her harshly, gripping her hand tighter than he had intended to. "Your mother loved you…along with your grandmother…and I…Anya…I care for you more than I had ever thought possible. You are someone of importance to me. You are someone I want to see safe. I do not want to see you hurt."
"Nor do I wish to see you hurt," Anya told him and he gave her a sad smile.
"And I won't be," Jon promised her. "But you know what I am, Anya. I am Lord Commander of the Night's Watch…I took vows…and I have to honour those vows, regardless of how much it hurts me."
"Then come with me," Anya spoke, desperation now filling her voice as she spoke to him. "Do not stay here and do this to yourself. You have just said that this is not what you want. Jon, please, come with me."
"I can't," Jon shook his head with defiance. "I cannot, Anya. You know that deep down. But so long as you stay here you are in trouble. You know that. I know that you do. I want to you to go…find a man…a man who can look after you like you deserve. A man who will cherish you like a husband cherishes his wife."
Anya could feel herself well up with tears as she heard Jon speak. She shook her head back and forth, refusing to believe what she was hearing from him. She moved to rest her face on his chest, burying her reddening cheeks and her wet eyes. Jon closed his own eyes, knowing full well what pain she was going through. He was going through exactly the same emotions as she was. He just held onto her as though she was the most precious thing to him at that moment in time.
"Anya," Jon whispered her name in a soft hush. "You need to see that I am doing this for you…to keep you safe…to make you happy. Staying here will not bring you that. Please, Anya."
It took her a moment to dare to lift her head up, her gaze meeting Jon's once more. Moving a hand to her cheek, he allowed his cold fingers to roam around on her pale skin, pressing the tips of his fingers against her cheekbones. She closed her eyes at the feeling and nodded her head.
"I still want you to come with me," she informed him. "Will anything I say change your mind?"
A sad smile engulfed Jon's lips. There would have been a time when he would have left the Wall. He had been prepared to go when Robb had sent him word of his father's death and impending war. Jon almost wished that he had gone. He could have saved Robb. He could have saved his family, but he had remained at the Wall. He had stayed and he had allowed them to die. It broke his heart every single day he thought about it.
"No," Jon said and she sniffed again, looking away from Jon as he struggled to move to press his lips against hers. He finally succeeded, pressing his lips softly on top of hers, allowing his mouth to engulf her bottom lip as a salty tear fell from her cheek onto his.
His hand continued to roam across her cheek and her hands moved to hold onto his shoulder. Her body was twisted in an awkward position, but none of that mattered when Jon was holding her. All she could think about was how good it felt. She had never allowed herself to be lost in a moment. She had always been prepared for something, but being with Jon allowed her to forget. She wanted that forever, but she knew that she could never have it. That was the part that broke her heart.
"Stannis leaves on the morrow," Jon whispered. "You should pack a trunk and rise early enough to be prepared."
"Will you not stay here for tonight?" Anya worried and Jon chewed the inside of his cheek.
"I can't," Jon told her. "I should wake in my own chamber. I do not wish for rumours to spread."
Anya could feel her throat clench, but she remained strong. She had to keep strong for her own sanity. Nodding, she sat up and Jon sat up with her. He sighed and pushed himself from the bed, doing the best to ignore the aching feeling in his chest as he stood and stretched out his limbs. Anya remained seated on the bed and Jon could see that she was trying not to allow tears to consume her. He simply hated to say that she was doing a terrible job.
Bending down, Jon came to her eye level once more, his forehead pressed against hers as he knelt in between her legs. She kept her eyes firmly shut and Jon pressed his lips against hers, trying to ignore the way her body shook and her eyes remained firmly shut to prolong the tears.
"Stay safe, Anya," Jon demanded from her, knowing that their goodbye had to happen tonight and not in front of the other men of the Watch.
Anya nodded her head quickly, wondering when Jon would go. He said nothing as he kissed her once more and then stood up, his own hand moving down his cheek as he quickly spun on his heel and swept from the room. It was only when the door was closed did Anya allow the noises she had concealed to escape from her throat. A hand to her chest and her waist bent, she felt as though she could empty the contents of her stomach. She had thought that her sobs would die down in the night, but she was wrong. If anything, they just grew louder.
….
"She is a wildling," Selyse Baratheon was annoyed. She was beyond annoyed that her husband had permitted the girl travel on the journey South. They stood on the wooden planks above the courtyard as trunks were loaded onto wagons and supplies verified.
Stannis wrapped his hands around the wooden post in front of him, his cloak flowing slightly in the breeze. Selyse continued to glare at her husband as Stannis watched Craster's daughter help his daughter onto her horse. Shireen was smiling fondly at the wildling as the girl managed a soft and sad smile. She only turned around when a man pressed a hand to her shoulder.
Edd and Grenn had come to see her off and she was grateful that they had spent their free time coming to say farewell.
"She is an illiterate bastard," Selyse hissed and Stannis finally turned to look at his wife, his patience wearing thin as he watched her with narrowed eyes. "You make a mockery of the Baratheon name if you allow her so close to Shireen."
"She is not illiterate," Stannis hissed. "And I doubt she is a true bastard. The girl needs safe passage and Shireen needs company. The girl is lonely and she is my daughter. I shall not see her miserable. She will be miserable enough when we get under way."
Storming away from Selyse, Stannis moved down the staircase, coming across Jon Snow as he stood on the first storey platform by the staircase.
"Lord Commander," Stannis greeted Jon and the bastard gave him a small nod.
"I trust that everything is in order for your journey?" he double checked.
"Aye," Stannis nodded. "And you are certain about the girl? You still wish for her to go?"
Jon could have told Stannis the honest truth. He could have told him what he truly wanted, but he doubted the King would have understood. He looked to Stannis and nodded, allowing him a moment to scrutinise his reaction as he did so.
"She shall be safer with you," Jon spoke. "I only ask for you to…to make sure she stays well."
Stannis nodded. He was no fool. Stannis had never loved a woman. Yes, he tolerated his wife, but he did not love her. He understood what Jon was feeling for he had seen it before. He was no fool, nor was he blind.
"So long as she remains in my company then I shall keep her safe," Stannis said. "You have helped me. I shall help you. A favour for a favour."
Nodding, Jon looked back to Anya as Grenn helped her onto her horse and she smiled down to both of them, whispering something as Edd nodded and Grenn chuckled. Jon wanted to go down there and see what they were whispering about. He wanted to bid her farewell. He needed to hold her one final time.
Clenching his hands around the wooden railing in front of him, Jon watched as Stannis said something to her and she nodded, pulling her hood up on her cloak. Jon felt a lump form in his throat as she covered her face from him and allowed for her horse to begin moving forwards.
"Turn around," Jon whispered, his voice sounding close to breaking as he whispered into the wind. "Anya, turn around."
Almost as though she heard him, Anya moved a hand to hold her hood on top of her head as she turned around, seemingly looking for Jon amongst the crowds. Jon's gaze remained fixed on her as she finally looked to him and her gaze remained there, unable to be torn away. Jon noted her cheeks were a pinch red and her eyes were wide and wet. She gave him no smile, nor did she whisper anything. She was blank. Jon wondered if he should say anything, but nothing fell from his lips. It was too late. She was too far away.
It was only when she turned back around to concentrate did Jon realise he had been holding his breath. He exhaled sharply, hanging his head and allowing his black curls to hang in front of his face. Closing his eyes, he barely heard the footsteps behind him.
"I see your whore has gone, Snow," Thorne's voice whispered. "Who will be here to protect you now?"
Jon glowered, but Thorne simply chuckled and turned to leave, knowing full well that Jon Snow was running out of friends, but his vulnerability was real now. He was a summer boy full of emotion, and that emotion ran high now that his precious wildling had been sent away from him.